Another Figure Dived from the Rail.
Bob saw what was going to happen. Theplucky lad held the child off at arm's length, as far away from the oncoming ship as possible, while with the other hand he sought to break the force of the blow.
The side of the ship hit Jarvis a tremendous blow. The lad's arm doubled under him and his head drooped forward on the water.
"He's killed!" cried the watchers.
Splash!
Another figure had dived from the rail. It was Steve. His dive took him right under Bob and his burden. Rush came up the other side and struck out for the couple with long, powerful strokes.
AN EXCITING RESCUE
WITH him Rush had carried a life ring attached to the end of a rope, the other end of the rope having been, with rare presence of mind, made fast to the rail by him before leaping.
He reached his companion just as Bob's head drooped over and he lost consciousness. Still, Jarvis kept his grip on the arm of the child. Rush had to tear the girl's dress in order to wrench Jarvis's grip free of her. In so doing Steve lost the life ring. It was carried away from him in a twinkling. Now he had two persons on his hands with the seas rolling over him almost mountain high, though the ship, being on the windward side, protected them somewhat.
"Haul in and cast the ring!" Steve managed to shout, just before he was jammed choking under a heavy wave.
Rush threw himself on his back with his head toward the ship, one arm under Marie and the other arm supporting Bob, who was making desperate efforts to help himself, though unable to do much in that direction. Then Rush began kicking himself slowly toward the vessel, whichhad been shifted about and was once more drifting down on them.
"Cast your lines before you get close enough to hit us!" Steve cried when he could do so without getting a mouthful of water.
Unfortunately those on deck were not very good shots at this sort of target work and their life rings went far wide of the mark. The ropes on all but one of them slipped through the hands of the casters and dropped into the sea.
"Lubbers!" roared the captain from the pilot-house window.
Steve caught the third ring. Twisting the rope about the body of Marie just under her arms, he tore the ring loose.
"Haul up, quick!" he shouted, swimming along with the child after having thrust the life ring over the head of Bob Jarvis. Steve held to the girl so that she should not be thrown against the ship head first, which would have seriously injured her at least, and perhaps killed her then and there. Possibly the little girl was dead already. Rush did not know, but he thought he had detected life when he first grasped her.
"Hurry, hurry!" he cried.
The girl was hauled free of the water, and, limp and lifeless, she was tenderly lifted over the rail. Captain Simms, after hurling some brief directions at the man at the wheel, dashedfrom the pilot-house, down the steps and along the deck to the stern, where Marie lay on the deck. The father lost no time in getting at work on her.
"Save those boys if it costs the ship to do it!" he roared. "Major, use your wits! Get them out, I tell you. I'll hold you personally responsible for their rescue!"
"Rush is hit!" shouted a voice excitedly.
Looking over they saw Steve striking out blindly to where Bob was floating away helplessly on the sea. It was plain that Rush had been stunned by being thrown against the side of the ship. Still, by sheer pluck, he was keeping himself up and swimming, but with evident effort, toward his companion. Bob was in a helpless condition and every second the life ring was slipping up and threatening to bob out from under his head. Were that to happen there was little chance that he would be saved.
Steve tried to shout to them, but his voice would not come. He swallowed enough water in these attempts to drown the ordinary person. His eyes were so full of water and he was so dazed from the bump he had sustained, that he could not make out where Jarvis was.
"Port! Port!" roared a voice from the deck.
Steve caught the direction and veered a little to port.
"More port. Can you keep it up?"
Rush did not answer, for he was beyond answering. Only his wonderful pluck and endurance were keeping him from throwing up his hands and sinking under the surface.
With a final burst of speed he reached his companion. Steve threw out one hand and fastened on the other Iron Boy. As he did so the ring slipped from Jarvis's head and floated away.
Rush realized at once what had happened, and began upbraiding himself for his carelessness. The knowledge seemed to give him new strength. His body fairly leaped from the water as he took several powerful strokes toward the drowning Bob.
"Wake up!" cried Steve, shaking his companion roughly.
Jarvis mumbled in reply, and tried feebly to help himself, but he was too weak and too full of water to accomplish anything.
Steve, by a great effort, twisted his companion about and began swimming toward the ship with him.
Shouts and suggestions were hurled at him from the ship, but he did not hear them. The Iron Boy was making the fight of his life. At last, after mighty struggles, he managed to get near enough to the "Richmond" to catch aline that was tossed to him. This he quickly made fast about Jarvis's waist and waved a hand to indicate that the men above were to haul away.
Steve lay over on his back on the water with a great sigh of relief as the men began hauling the other boy toward the deck.
"Get a line over there to Rush!" thundered the captain. "Don't you see the boy is drowning?"
But Steve missed every line that was tossed to him. He was making powerful efforts to pull himself together sufficiently to save himself, but he could not do so.
"Take care of the child, Major. Keep pumping the water out of her. She'll be all right in a moment," cried the captain. "Give me a line, quick!"
Before the brave skipper could carry out his purpose of climbing over the rail preparatory to dropping into the lake, another man swiftly leaped to the rail and let himself drop feet first. He carried two lines with him.
"It's Smith, the stoker!" cried a chorus of voices.
It was indeed the stoker, the enemy of the Iron Boys, who had determined to avenge himself on them for the insults he believed they had heaped upon him.
What sudden revulsion of feeling led the stoker to risk his life to save that of Steve Rush none ever knew, nor would he ever afterwards discuss it. Smith was a powerful fellow, a man who feared nothing and besides, he was a strong swimmer.
He pounced upon Rush as if he were about to do him bodily injury. It was the work of but a moment to make fast the line about the boy's body.
"Get him up, and be quick!" yelled the stoker.
A cheer rose from the deck; two men at this time were working over Bob, while the captain, having returned to his daughter, was ministering to her.
Steve was hauled aboard, where he settled down in a heap. The sailors turned him face downward, and then some one happened to think of the stoker. Smith was keeping himself from being jammed against the side of the ship by holding both hands against the side of it and hurling angry imprecations at those on deck who had apparently forgotten his existence.
"Smi—Smith—Get him!" muttered Steve.
"Put a ladder over the side! Lash it to the rail and give the man a line with which to steady himself!" commanded the captain. "Come, come! Have you all lost your senses?"
His orders were carried out with a snap, and a moment later the dripping figure of Smith appeared above the level of the deck.
"You're a fine lot of lubbers," growled the stoker. "You let a man go overboard and then forget he's there. I ought to throw the bunch of you overboard."
"Take those boys to their cabins as soon as you get the water out of them," ordered Captain Simms.
"No, no; I'm all right," protested Steve, pulling himself together and staggering away from the men who were thumping him with their closed fists, hoping in that way to bring him back to himself.
The stoker had betaken himself to the fire room to dry off. His face had once more regained its surly, hang-dog expression, and he made rough answers to the few questions that were put to him by his fellow-workers in the stoke-hole.
At last the workers succeeded in shaking most of the water out of Bob Jarvis. He had swallowed a lot of it and was so weak that he could not stand.
At Steve's suggestion they carried Bob around on the lee side of the after deck-house. The steward came running out with a bottle of brandy, some of which he sought to pour downbetween the boy's blue lips. Jarvis thrust the bottle aside, half angrily.
"None—none of that horrible stuff for me! I—I'd rather be full of Lake Superior water and—andthat'sthe limit——"
Steve stooped over, and placing his hands under the other boy's arms, lifted him to his feet.
"Brace up! You're all right now," encouraged Rush.
"Yes. I'm all right,only——"
The sailors laughed at this; then they shouted, more from relief from the strain under which they had been laboring than because of the humor of Jarvis's reply.
"Want to go in and lie down now?" questioned Steve, barely able to keep his feet.
"No!"
"Then we'll walk and see if we can get our sea legs," proposed Steve, slipping an arm about his companion's waist and starting slowly toward the stern. The boys could hardly keep their feet, they were still so weak. They staggered from one side of the passage to the other, but their iron grit kept them up.
"How is little Marie?" demanded Jarvis, suddenly turning to Rush.
"Come; we will go and see. We were forgetting our duty," muttered Steve, starting for the cabin, where the little girl had been taken.
A NEW HAND AT THE WHEEL
MARIE had entirely recovered consciousness when the lads entered the steward's cabin. But the child's face was chalky white, her lips colorless and her eyes dull.
Captain Simms had sent for his wife, who, ill in her stateroom, had not known of the exciting events that were taking place at the other end of the ship. Mrs. Simms forgot all about her seasickness when summoned and told what had happened.
Marie's eyes lighted up when they rested on the dripping forms of the Iron Boys.
"Hello, kiddie," greeted Jarvis. "How'd you like your swim?"
"Come and kiss me," answered the child simply.
Jarvis blushed, but braced himself. Then, stooping over, he gently kissed the little one on the cheek.
"You, too, Steve," she nodded with compelling eyes.
Then Steve Rush kissed her, patted her cheek and straightened up to meet the arms of the captain's wife.
"You saved her life," she murmured.
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Simms; it's Bob Jarvis whom you should thank. He's the real hero this time. I'm only a sort of assistant hero," said Steve with a laugh.
The captain tried to speak, but something seemed to stick in his throat. He gulped, swallowed, then grasping both boys by the shoulders thrust them from the cabin.
"Get out! Get out you young rascals before I give you a sound thumping!" he exploded, as the Iron Boys, laughing heartily, were ejected to the deck.
"That's a fine way to show a fellow's appreciation," snorted Bob. "Do you know where that kiddie was going when she was swept overboard? I mean, before she was swept over?"
"Coming aft?"
"Yes; she was coming aft. She was coming aft to make a cake for you and me, that's what she was doing. She told me she was going to bake one for us to-day and she had the stuff in her hands that she was going to put into the cake. It's a shame," added Jarvis, his voice pitched a little higher than usual.
"Yes, but not half so bad as if we hadn't saved her, old man. I'm proud of you, Bob Jarvis."
"You needn't be. I was the easiest kind of amark. I would have drowned if it hadn't been for you."
"And both of us would undoubtedly have gone down had it not been for the stoker, Smith. What do you make of that, Bob?"
Jarvis halted reflectively.
"I think," announced the lad wisely, "that he was—was—what do you say a fellow is suffering from when he goes dippy up here?" tapping the top of his head.
"Temporary aberration?"
"That's it. I wish I could think of things ready-made, the way you do. Well, I believe he must have been suffering from that. He'll be wanting to lick us again the minute he sets eyes on us."
"Here he comes now. He's just come up from his watch. Oh, Smith!"
The stoker halted, then started on again. Steve grasped his arm. The fellow shook the lad loose.
"See here, we want to talk to you."
Smith halted reluctantly.
"I want to take back every unpleasant thing I have ever said to you. At the same time I want to apologize for what I have done. I've been in the wrong all the time, I guess. Will you shake hands?"
The stoker hesitated, shifted uneasily, all thetime avoiding looking into the eyes of the Iron Boys. Finally he thrust out a reluctant hand.
Steve grabbed it and Bob caught up the other. The stoker, muttering half sullenly, broke away and ran into the deck-house, leaving the boys standing outside looking at each other.
"Well, that beats anything I ever saw," growled Bob.
"Do you know," said Steve reflectively, "I believe that fellow has been a criminal of some sort. The way his eyes avoid yours, his shifty, hang-dog manner, reminds me of certain other gentlemen whom I have seen. However, after what he has done for us, it is not for you and me to try to get him into any further trouble. He saved our lives and that's all there is about it so far as we are concerned. I don't believe he will try any more tricks on us. He is the man who hit me on deck here the other night. I'm just as sure of it as I am that we are standing here now. Captain Simms gave him an awful walloping. Maybe that's what beat some sense into the fellow's head."
All the rest of the day Marie remained in bed. The captain, who had gone back to the pilot-house after carrying the child to his own quarters, made frequent trips below to see how she was getting on. She was doing so well that she wanted to get up and play.
The rest of the day passed without incident, though the gale, if anything, grew worse. The air was filled with flying spray that reached high up on the masts. The wireless operator picked up messages from other ships that had sought safe harbor on the lee side of the islands along the lake, but thus far there had been no reports of disasters. The captain had warned the operator to be on the sharp lookout for appeals for help. To the satisfaction of all no cries for help came.
The boys went about their duties, Rush taking another trick at the wheel late in the afternoon, leaving it along toward eight bells, midnight. Bob, in this instance, relieved him.
The night was starless and intensely dark and the hurling spray made necessary a sharp lookout ahead. Two men were stationed on the bridge and another in the forepeak to watch for lights, though the captain did not look for many that night. He knew that at least all the timid skippers, had scudded for calm water at the first signs of a big blow. Believing that all was safe he went to bed, and the ship went rolling and plunging, lurching and tumbling on her way, creaking and groaning as though the effort caused her great pain.
Shortly before daylight, Bob fancying that he heard some one entering the pilot-house,glanced at the open door on the lee side. At first he saw nothing. Then all of a sudden a huge, shadowy form seemed to rise from the floor at that point.
Bob gazed in amazement.
"What's that, Mr. Major?" he asked sharply.
"Where?" demanded the mate, leaning out and looking forward.
"There, there, at the door?"
"I don't see anything."
"Neither do I, now, but I did a moment ago. I——"
Bob received a blow from a huge paw that tipped him over sideways, tumbling him over.
"Help!" yelled the boy, bolting for the door.
About this time the first mate, who had run around to the rear of the steering wheel, got a blow on the side of the head that laid him low. He, too, scrambled to his feet and dashed for the door, slamming it shut after him.
"What's the trouble in there?" shouted one of the bridge watch, poking his head in at the window. He had heard some sort of disturbance in the pilot-house, he thought, but the wind being so strong he was unable to decide what the disturbance was about.
There was no answer to his question.
"I say——" he shouted; then something happened to him.
A huge paw was stretched out through the forward pilot-house window. It came down on the head of the watch with a whack, laying him flat on the deck.
The second watch ran to where his companion had fallen.
"Here, here, what's the mat——"
The watch did not finish the sentence. A cuff on the ear, and a mighty cuff at that, sent him clear to the end of the bridge, and had the weather cloths not been in place he would undoubtedly have been knocked through between the rails and into the sea.
Both men set up a wild yell of fear.
"It's some kind of animal!" shouted Bob. "Send for the captain. I'm going back to the wheel."
Summoning all his courage the lad opened the pilot-house door, peering cautiously in.
He got a blow that knocked him over backwards and Bob Jarvis tumbled all the way down the stairs to the main deck.
Captain Simms came rushing out of his cabin in his pajamas.
He had heard the running on the deck above him and surmising that something had gone wrong, rushed out to the deck.
"What's wrong? What's wrong?" he bellowed, casting a quick glance ahead, almost expectingto see another ship bearing down upon them. "I say, what's happened?"
"Help!" howled the distant voice of Bob Jarvis from the lower deck.
"Help, help!" yelled the two men on the bridge watch in chorus.
"Captain!" roared First Mate Major, bounding down the stairs to where the captain was standing.
The skipper grabbed the mate by the arm and shook him violently.
"Here, here! What's wrong? Have all of you lubbers gone mad?"
"It—it's in the pilot-house!" gasped the now thoroughly frightened mate.
"What's in the pilot-house?" demanded Captain Simms angrily.
"Nobody—I mean I don't know. It's a——"
But the skipper waited to hear no more. He rushed up the stairs, two steps at a jump. Reaching the bridge deck he sprang for the door of the pilot-house and jerked it open. As he did so his keen eyes caught sight of a huge, shadowy figure at the wheel. The strange, uncouth shape was twirling the wheel merrily, while the ship was diving this way and that in a most unusual and erratic manner.
The figure at the wheel suddenly bolted forward, making a grab for Captain Simms. Quitea portion of the skipper's pajamas were left in the grip of the strange object, causing the captain to retire hastily, slamming the door as he did so.
"It's the bear! The bear has escaped!" he shouted.
"The bear?" yelled several voices.
"Yes, the bear in that crate in the lazaret. We were taking it down for Mr. Carrhart, to be shipped to a friend of his in Pittsburgh."
"Wow!" cried Jarvis, who had been creeping up the stairs. He turned and bolted down again with all speed.
LEADING A LIVELY CHASE
"THE bear has escaped!" shouted a voice down on the main deck.
"What bear?"
"The one that was in the lazaret."
"Didn't know there was any bear there. You're kidding," answered the doubting sailor.
"Go up and take a peep into the wheel-house, if you don't believe it. You'll get a bang on the side of the head that will make your ears ring eight bells for the rest of the night."
"I—I guess I'll take your word for it." The sailor turned and ran for the deck-house.
Steve Rush, aroused by the shouting, got up and poked his head from the cabin window.
"Hey, what's happening?" he called.
Jarvis was on his way back to tell his chum the news.
"Old Bruin has escaped."
"Who's he?"
"An old party we had cooped in a crate in the lazar——"
"A bear?"
"You bet he's a bear. He waved a paw at me that knocked me clean out of the pilot-house."
"Wait, I'll be out in a minute."
Steve hurried into his clothes, and a few minutes later was out on the rolling deck. He could barely make out the lights of the forward deck-house through the mist of spray that hung over the ship like a cloud.
"Where is he?" cried the Iron Boy.
"Up there in the house."
"But who is steering the ship?"
"I guess the bear is. Nobody else up there except the captain, jumping around the bridge-deck in his pajamas, mad as a hatter."
Steve, deciding that he would like a closer look, hurried to the bridge. There he found Captain Simms in a plight if anything more ludicrous than had been painted by Bob Jarvis. Rush saw that the ship was reeling about like a crazy sailor.
"Do something, somebody!" roared the skipper.
"What would you suggest?" questioned Steve, taking a peep through an open window and narrowly missing getting his eyes scratched out as a hairy paw reached through the window with a downward, raking sweep.
Captain Simms forgot his anger long enough to laugh at the agility with which Rush leaped backward, falling over a steel cleat, coming up grinning but very red of face.
"That's what the beast did to me, only he got too much of my clothes for comfort," remarked the skipper.
It was Steve's turn to laugh, which he did uproariously.
"Maybe you think it's funny, but you wouldn't if you were in my place. The next question is how are we going to get that beast from the iron range out of the pilot-house?"
"I'll tell you," said Bob, who had followed his companion up to the bridge. "We'll coax him out with a chunk of fresh meat."
"Will you hold the meat?" answered the master sharply.
"No, thank you," laughed Jarvis.
"Your idea isn't half bad. I believe I will get a piece of meat and try it," replied Rush reflectively.
"See here, young man. Not quite so fast. What do you propose to do with the beast when you get him out?"
"I—I—hadn't thought of that," stammered Rush.
"I suppose you'd let him dance about the decks and run us all overboard, eh? No, sir. He stays where he is. You keep watch of him while I go down stairs and get some clothing on. This summer costume is a little too airy for this kind of a night."
The two boys watched the pilot-house from a safe distance while the captain went below. Day was beginning to dawn, and by the faint light they could see Mr. Bruin spinning the pilot-wheel this way and that. He seemed as pleased as a child with a new toy. The compass card, with its dim white spot showing the position of the ship, attracted his attention. Brain scratched on the glass over the compass card and getting no satisfaction from so doing, returned to the wheel.
Such steering probably never had been seen on the Great Lakes before. All at once five shrill blasts sounded dead ahead.
"There comes a steamer!" yelled Bob.
"We'll run it down!" shouted Steve. "Hey, Captain!"
The up-coming steamer knew that something was wrong and her deck officer was sounding a danger signal. It looked as if a collision could not be avoided. Steve ran around to the front of the pilot-house, and rang in the signal "full speed astern" on the bridge telegraph. Then the "Richmond" did cut up. Bruin was still steering as fancy dictated, the bow of the ship wobbling this way and that.
A Huge Form Stood at the Wheel.
In the meantime the captain of the other steamer was trying his best to get his craft out of the way of the wobbling "Richmond."
"Sheer off! Sheer off!" bellowed the skipperof the up-boat. "You'll cut us in two."
The boys thought so as well, but there was nothing they could do save wait for results and trust to luck.
Bang!
The nose of the "Richmond" caught the other boat a glancing blow and bounced off. The sides of the two ships bumped together, then the stern of the "Richmond" side-swiped the stranger with a smash that sent everything jingling on the two ships, while the skipper of the up-craft was dancing up and down the deck of his vessel, heaping abuse upon Captain Simms and his "fool crew."
"We must get that beast out, at all costs," raged the master of the "Richmond."
Just then Bruin leaned back from the window and against the whistle lever. Instantly a roar, accompanied by a cloud of steam, burst from the whistle at the after end of the boat. The roaring of the siren did not cease. It kept right up and Mr. Bear glanced about uneasily as if suspecting that the noise was directed against him.
About this time the chief engineer rushed to the deck.
"Stop that blowing. You'll blow all the steam out of the boilers!" he commanded, shouting up to the bridge.
"Suppose you come up and stop it yourself," suggested Jarvis, grinning over the rail.
"We shall have to try that meat plan, I guess, boys," decided the master. "How shall we do it without playing the part of the meat?"
"I have a plan," answered Steve. "Bob, if you will get a piece of meat I will see what I can do in the meantime."
Bob hurried aft for the fresh meat while Steve busied himself by preparing a rope which he placed at the foot of the stairs on the lower deck. By this time, Jarvis had returned with the meat, the captain having watched the arrangement with nods of approval.
"Please have some men stationed under cover of the deck-house below us and have a tarpaulin, one of the canvas hatch covers, handy, will you?" asked Rush.
"Certainly. Jarvis tell the mate to do as Steve suggests. I will open the door of the pilot-house when you are ready."
In the meantime Bruin had left the whistle lever and lumbered to the starboard window where he stood observing the preparations for his capture. His nose was upraised sniffing the air, for he smelled the fresh meat.
"Look out that he doesn't jump out of the window," warned Bob.
"I hardly think he will. It is quite a drop,"answered Rush. "Now, Captain, if you will open the door, I think we are ready," he added, taking the meat from the hands of his companion.
"You don't need me now, do you, Steve?"
"Well not just this minute," laughed Rush.
Bob ran up the rope ladder of the foremast, and from this point of safety he grinned his enjoyment of the scene. Captain Simms threw open the pilot-house door; then he also shinned up the ladder. The bear was ambling toward Steve at a rapid gait. But the Iron Boy did not appear to be at all frightened. He slid down the stairs to the forward deck, waited until the bear was almost upon him, then dropped to the main or lower deck.
Bruin was after him without loss of time. Reaching the lower deck, Steve dropped the fresh meat in the big loop of rope that he had spread out on the deck, and quickly darted behind a hatch.
The bear seized the meat with an ugly growl. Steve gave the rope, one end of which was in his hands, a violent jerk and the next second the bear was floundering about the deck, fighting, pawing and uttering fierce growls, with the noose of Steve's rope drawn down tight over one of the animal's fore-legs.
Steve took a twist around a stanchion.
"The tarpaulin!" he shouted.
Not a man made a move to do the lad's bidding.
"Bob! Come down here. I want you! Quick!"
"I'm coming."
Jarvis was down the ladder in short order.
"What shall we do now?"
"Grab hold of this canvas and help me throw it over the beast."
"But he'll bite," protested Bob.
"He will if we do not get him secured pretty soon. Hurry, there!"
Each taking hold of a corner of the big, heavy canvas the lads approached the big beast with caution.
"Now, he-o!"
They swung the tarpaulin back and forth to give it momentum, Bruin stretching out quick paws in an effort to grab the canvas, at the same time showing his teeth and uttering fierce growls.
"Let go!" shouted Rush.
The canvas fell completely over the beast, the centre of the covering dropping directly on his head. Mr. Bear began to claw and roar, but the more he clawed the more entangled did he become.
The crew uttered a cheer.
"Hurry up, men! Give me a hand or he'll get away from us yet!"
Steve threw himself upon the writhing heap, with Jarvis a close second. But no sooner had the boys landed on the canvas than they were tossed off. Back they sprang, making plucky efforts to twist the canvas into position where the animal could not throw it off.
By this time Captain Simms was down the ladders and stairs, making for the writhing heap on the jump.
"Get in there, you lubbers!" he roared.
The men obeyed his command, though they did so with reluctance.
"Fall on the heap!"
After a lively battle, consuming some twenty minutes, the escaped bear was hopelessly entangled in the tarpaulin, the corners of which were tied securely, thus imprisoning him beyond the possibility of his getting out.
"The next question is, what are we going to do with him, now that we have him?" inquired the captain.
"Is his crate broken so that it cannot be fixed?" asked Rush.
"No; it can be fixed up," interjected the chief engineer.
"Hurry up and attend to it, Macrae."
In a few minutes the crate was ready. Steveengineered the following efforts, as he had those that had gone before. The bear was dragged back to the stern. There the men waited while Steve put another large chunk of meat in the cage.
"All ready, men. Throw him down the stairs. Be sure that you get him down, or he'll be after us and then we shall have our hands full," shouted Steve.
"It strikes me we already have," muttered the captain, gazing admiringly at the efforts of the Iron Boy.
"You ought to join a menagerie," suggested Jarvis.
"All ready now," warned Steve.
"All ready," answered the men.
Steve cast a final look about, taking careful note of the knots which were ready to be unfastened at the word.
"Let go!" he shouted.
With a roar Mr. Bruin went rolling, bumping and scratching down the stairs into the lazaret.
Steve crept down the stairs.
"Everyone stay back," he warned.
None needed the advice. None of the ship's company felt the least inclination to climb into that dark hole where the angry bear was floundering about.
"Throw on a light," called Rush.
A solitary light gleamed in the darkness of the lazaret. About that time the bear smelled the fresh meat in the cage. With a grunt and a growl he went in search of it, nosing here and there. At last he found it.
Steve, crouching on the stairway was watching the beast with keen eyes. The bear entered the cage. With a bound Rush dropped to the floor of the lazaret.
Bang! The door of the cage swung to, the padlock securing it, quickly slipped through the staple and locked.
Mr. Bear was a prisoner.
"There, you may all come down now, children," called the Iron Boy.
"Is he in?" demanded a voice at the head of the stairs.
"He is. Bruin is having the rest of his breakfast now."
"Three cheers for Steve Rush," cried the captain, pulling off his cap.
"Hip-hip-hurrah!" yelled the sailors. "Hip-hip-hurrah! Hip-hip-hurrah! T-i-g-e-r!" added Bob Jarvis.
Steve came up from the lower deck, his face flushed with triumph.
"Well, we got him, didn't we?" he demanded.
"You meanyougot him," answered the captain.
"We all got him."
"It is my opinion," added the skipper, "that you ought to be the captain of this boat. You've got more horse sense than all the rest of us together."
THE WIRELESS MESSAGE
FOR the rest of that day the ship had a measure of quiet, just for a change. The storm kept on with its former severity and there was more or less discomfort. Meals had to be eaten standing up, and life lines had been run along the deck to support the one who ventured along the decks forward or aft. Marie was not allowed to leave her father's cabin again while the storm lasted. Considerable time had been lost, owing to the trouble caused by the bear, so the ship was put to full speed.
Of late the boys had taken the keenest sort of interest in the wireless outfit with which the ship was equipped. They spent much of their leisure time with the wireless operator. Steve had learned part of the Morse alphabet and occasionally he tried to operate the key.
Two days later, as they were sitting in the wireless room, where the operator, with feet on his desk, was telling them a story of a wreck that he had been in on the Atlantic when he was operator on a liner, a flash from the switchboard told them that they had picked up a wireless from another ship or station.
The operator quickly adjusted the receiver over his head, listened a moment then threw his key open. A few quick sentences were crashed forth, the aërials above the deck of the ship snapping out the message in sundry vicious cracklings.
Steve tried to catch the drift of what was being said, but it was too fast for him. He could not hear what the operator was receiving, but after a while the operator picked up his pencil and began writing industriously.
Glancing over the man's shoulder Steve's eyes caught a few words that caused him to lean forward with renewed interest. Then he sat back, possessing himself in patience until the message should have been finished.
"That's strange," said the operator, laying down his head piece.
"What is it?" questioned Bob.
"Nothing much. It is just a message I picked up about some fellow that the police want."
"Well, it isn't I, that's sure," said Jarvis with a confident laugh.
"It is—but here, read it for yourself."
Steve read the message out loud.
"'Wanted: One, Gus Collins, for complicity in a post-office robbery at Elgin on the night of June third. Collins has been a sailor and is said to be on one of the ships on the lakes. Aboutfive feet ten in height, gray eyes, blonde hair. Has a peculiar stoop to his shoulders, and a habit of peering up suspiciously, but not meeting the eyes of the person he is talking to. Five hundred dollars reward offered for his capture by the post-office department.'"
"I'd like to make that five hundred," laughed Jarvis.
Steve did not reply at once. His face was serious. He was thinking.
"Well, there is one thing certain, Mr. Gus Collins isn't on this ship," announced the operator, hanging up his headstall. "Funny message to send out. Skippers of these boats have something else to do besides hunting down criminals for the post-office department."
Rush nodded thoughtfully.
Somehow, the description of the man seemed to strike a familiar chord in him. He could not help feeling that he had seen some one who in a measure answered that description.
"Ever seen him, Bob?" questioned the lad.
Jarvis shook his head.
"Wouldn't have recognized him if I had seen him. Say!"
"Well?"
"Maybe the bear is Collins in disguise."
There was a laugh at this. Rush read the message over again.
"Shall I take it up to the captain?"
"Yes, if you will."
Steve did so. Captain Simms read the alarm message through twice.
"Pshaw!" he grunted. "Let the government find its own criminals. It doesn't hire me to be a policeman. How's the bear?"
"I haven't heard him complain any since we put him back," answered Steve with a grin. "How did he get out, do you think?"
"The cage tipped over in a roll of the ship. No more wild animal shows on this ship. Are you going to try to earn that five hundred dollars?" demanded the skipper, changing the subject abruptly.
"I had not thought of doing so. You do not think he is on your ship, do you?"
"If he was you'd catch him, even if you had to bait him with raw beef. Say, are you going to stay with me?"
"Why, I am not thinking of leaving, Captain Simms."
"I don't mean now. Of course, you wouldn't leave me in the middle of the season. You're too square for that. I mean at the end of the season?"
"Of course, we shall have to work during the winter. We can't afford to lie around in idleness."
"Yes, of course. But what about next season?"
"That is a long way off," smiled Rush.
"Will you come back with me next year?"
"I could not promise. Frankly, Captain, I wish I might stay with you. I like the life and I should be happy to spend the rest of my days on the water, were it not for one fact."
"What is that?"
"There isn't much of a future to the lake business."
Captain Simms nodded.
"Nothing beyond being a captain. That's the stone wall we butt against sooner or later, if we are lucky enough to get that far. I don't blame you, but I am sorry. I was in hopes you would stay with us another season."
"This season is young yet. Perhaps you may be glad to get rid of me before the end of it," laughed Rush.
"No danger of that. But I am going to make it worth your while to stay, you see if I don't. Tell the operator to send back word, to the man that sent out this message, that we haven't got any safe crackers on board the 'Richmond.'"
"Very well, sir."
Steve picked up the message and left the cabin. He walked thoughtfully aft to his own state room, where he found Jarvis getting readyto go on duty. Rush sat down to study the description of the much-wanted criminal.
"I can't get it out of my mind that I know that man." he muttered. "I know I have seen him somewhere. But where? Pshaw! Why should I trouble myself about the matter? I'm no policeman, and I don't want to earn any money at the price of another man's liberty."
"What's the matter—gone crazy?" demanded Jarvis, eyeing his companion suspiciously. "They say it's a sure sign, when a fellow gets the habit of talking to himself."
Rush laughed heartily.
"Then both of us must be in the same boat, for I heard you mumbling to yourself this very day."
"When?"
"At the time the bear was chasing you."
"Huh!"
"Bob, listen."
Steve read out the message, slowly, giving emphasis to that part describing the man wanted by the government.
"Think hard, now. Isn't there some one whom you have seen that answers that description, the stooping shoulders, the peculiar way of glancing up from under the half-closed eyelids——"
"Nobody but Smith."
"Smith!" Rush gazed at the other boy blankly.
"That's so; he does rather answer the description."
"Of course he isn't the man."
"Perhaps not."
All the rest of the day Steve thought over the contents of that message and the suggestion made by Jarvis. He did not see the stoker, however, until the following morning, just as Steve was coming off duty.
"Morning, Smith," greeted the lad, bending a scrutinizing gaze on the surly fireman.
"Morning," mumbled the other.
"By the way, old chap; were you ever in Elgin?"
Smith gave the lad a quick, sharp look.
"What are you getting at?"
"Do you know a man named Collins—Gus Collins?" persisted the Iron Boy.
"Co—Co—Collins?"
"Yes, a fellow who was interested in cracking a post-office safe out in Elgin——"
"It's a lie!" exploded the stoker, straightening up suddenly, his face flushing and his features working convulsively.
"Ah! Then you do know something about this man, Collins, eh?"
"Ye—no, I don't know anything about him.I've heard of him, that's all. Now you let me alone, or——"
"Smith, you saved my life. I'm not such a cur as to forget that. I think you have something to say to——"
"I ain't got anything to say to you."
"Oh, yes, you have. Come with me to my cabin, where we can talk without interruption. It may be worth your while."
"I won't go!"
Smith raised a hand as if he would strike the boy whose finger-tips were resting on the stoker's shoulder.
"You come with me!" commanded Steve, placing a firmer grip on the shoulder of the stoker. In that way, and without further resistance, Steve led him to his own stateroom.
"Sit down! Now tell me all about it."
The fireman's face was sullen and rebellious.
"There—there ain't nothing to tell," answered the man in a low, half-angry voice.
"You are Gus Collins! I know you, now. I was sure I had seen the man whose description was sent out by the police and the government officials."
The stoker's face went ghastly.
"Yes, I am. Now what are you going to do about it?" he demanded, rising to his full height, standing over Rush in a threatening attitude.
"I am going to talk with you for the present. I think I have a right to do that, and see if there isn't something I can do for you after all you have done for me. Sit down, Gus."
With a bewildered look on his face, the stoker sank into the chair.
"Tell me the whole story, Gus," urged Rush gently. "You need not be afraid of me. I am your friend, no matter what you have done."
For a full five minutes Collins did not speak. It was plain to the keen-eyed boy before him that the man was battling with himself and was trying to decide what his course of action should be.
"Did you have any part in the robbery of that post-office?" urged Steve.
"No!" fairly shouted the stoker.
"Then you have nothing to fear."
"Yes, I have, too. I've got everything to fear. I'm a bad man, and——"
"Perhaps you were, but you have wiped that all out by your heroic act in——"
"Boy, I've served time in Joliet. I'm an ex-convict. I stole something once when I didn't know what I was doing. They put me away for five years for that little job. While I was in prison my temper got the best of me one day, and I hurt a man, and——"
"You don't mean you——"
"No, I didn't kill him, but I was used worse than a little yellow dog after that. What little good there was in me was beaten out of me, and—never let your temper get the best of you, boy. It's an awful thing to have a temper like mine."
Steve nodded.
"Well, I got out. My time was up."
"When was that?"
"This spring. I was dogged from the time I left the prison until one day I managed to give them the slip, and——"
"You mean the police were following you?"
"Yes; spotting me."
"What for?"
"To see that I didn't get into any mischief. The last time they saw me I was in Elgin. I left on the six o'clock train, after throwing the spotters off. That night the post-office there was cracked. I read about it in the papers next day, and I knew they'd put it on me. I got clear of the place as soon as possible, shipped up the lakes from Chicago; then got in with this crowd. Now I'll be sent back to Joliet again."
"Perhaps not; not if you are innocent."
"I am as innocent as you are, Steve Rush. Help me, boy! Help me to get away. They'll nail me this time, sure. They've got the line drawn on me fair and square. They sent out that alarm you've got in your hands there. Helpme to get away in the small boat to-night and I'll make shore and disappear. I'll fool them. I did you a good turn. Do a great one for me, now!"
"Yes, Gus; I will do you a turn, but I won't help you to escape. That would be a foolish thing to do. The police would get you sooner or later, and your flight would be the very worst thing possible for you when they did get you."
"You won't help me?"
"No, not in that way."
"How then?"
"I shall have to think it over, but if you are innocent, have no fears, for you shall be freed of the accusation. I must talk with the captain——"
Collins started to protest.
"No one else on board shall know of it except my friend, Jarvis, and he is true-blue. When we have you freed I will see to it that you get a berth on this or some other boat, for life, if you want it."
Collins shook his head.
"No; they'll fire me when they find out I've done time. Nobody wants an ex-convict. They drive a man to the dogs after once he's fallen——"
"Here's one man who won't drive you, Gus Collins. Here's one man who's going to standright back of you and see that you get fair play. Then you're going to hold your head up and be a man with other men. You leave it all to me, will you? Will you promise to do so?"
Collins eyed the bronzed, manly face before him, for a full moment; then he stretched out an impulsive hand.
"Put it there, little pard! I'll stand up, even if I do time for it, if it'll please you any. You're the pluckiest, the squarest bunch of muscle that I've ever come up with!"
CONCLUSION
STEVE RUSH had told the whole story to Captain Simms, to all of which the captain listened in deep interest.
"Well, what do you propose to do about it?" questioned the skipper, with a quizzical smile.
"If you will give me a leave of absence, I think I should like to go back to Elgin with Collins and help to get him free," announced Steve.
"Don't monkey with fire. A crook's a crook, and——"
"This onewillbe, if he is sent up again. I propose to get him out, even if it takes all the rest of the summer to do it."
"All right. Go ahead, lad, but for goodness' sake wait until we get the bear out of this ship," laughed the captain.
The result was that as soon as the "Richmond" reached its destination on Lake Erie, Steve and the stoker, both dressed in their best, slipped ashore and took a train for Chicago. Early the next forenoon they presented themselves at the police station in the town where the robbery had occurred, Steve acting as spokesman and stating that Collins had heardhe was wanted and had come to give himself up, prepared to prove his innocence.
Of course the stoker was locked up. The man was sullen once more, and when the iron doors clanged behind him he gave up all hope.
"They've got me! I was a fool!" he muttered.
Shortly after that Steve visited him, and when the boy left the man Collins was in a better frame of mind. Rush got to work at once. He must find some one who would remember to have seen Gus leaving town. Suddenly an idea occurred to the boy. He visited the railroad station. From one official to another he traveled, asking questions and getting scant courtesy. Everyone's hand appeared to be against him when the owner learned the object of Rush's mission.
It was not until the next day that he found the man for whom he was looking. That was the conductor of the train on which Collins had taken passage when he left the town the evening of the robbery, and several hours before it occurred. He had obtained from Collins a description of the clothes the latter wore on that night, and where he sat in the train, establishing the fact that the man's soft hat, tipped up behind, was pulled well down over his face, and that he wore a red necktie.
Armed with this description, Steve visited the conductor at the latter's home. At first the conductor did not seem to remember, but when Steve mentioned the felt hat, the red necktie and the stoop of the man's shoulders in connection with the furtive glancing up from beneath the eyelids, the railroad man, slapped his thigh violently.
"Of course I remember him. I'd know him if I saw him. He had a scar on his right cheek——"
"That's the man," cut in Rush triumphantly. "Come over to the station with me and identify him. You will prevent a grave injustice being done if you will assist me in this matter."
The conductor readily picked out Gus Collins as the man whom he had seen on his train proceeding the robbery. A few days later the conductor was summoned before the Grand Jury, at Steve's instigation, where he repeated his story in detail. Steve gave evidence also as to what he knew about the man, repeating the interview he had had with the stoker on board the ship.
The result was that Gus Collins stepped from his cell a free man that evening. He said little, but he seemed unable to keep his eyes from the face of the boy who had saved him from prison. Collins knew that nothing could have saved him had it not been for the Iron Boy, but somehowhe could not find it possible to express his thankfulness.
"We will go back to Duluth," said the lad. "We shall not be able to catch the ship down this way I guess. Anyhow, a few days' layoff will not hurt us in the least."
"What are you going to do with me now?" demanded the fireman, finding his voice at last.
"I shall take good care of you. Forget all that's past. You are a man now, and you are going to be a man henceforth. Quit brooding over your troubles. You haven't any. They were all washed out of you in the lake the day you went in after me. I have something in mind for you that I think will please you."
Reaching Duluth, Steve sought Mr Carrhart at once and to the president the lad told the whole story.
"What do you want, my lad—what do you wish me to do for your friend?" asked the president kindly.
Rush told him in a few words. The result was that Mr. Carrhart gave the boy a letter to the superintendent, telling Steve to return for an interview after he had finished with the Collins' business.
It was a proud and happy Steve who sought out Gus Collins an hour later, at the hotel where the man and the boy were stopping.
"Well, what about it?" demanded the stoker, without the least trace of hopefulness in his tone.
"You are to report for duty on the 'Richmond' as soon as she gets in."
"Oh!" Collins' face brightened.
"Here's your appointment," added Steve, handing over a document with the imprint of the steamship company at its head.
Collins read it through, changed color then stared at Steve.
"Is this some kind of a joke you're playing on me?"
"It is no joke, Gus. You are appointed foreman of the stoke-room of the ore carrier 'Richmond,' and you'll save more coal for the company than any other stoker who ever bossed a fire-room."
Collins sat down heavily. The tears were blinding his eyes. Steve did not try to stop them. He realized that they marked the turning point in what had been a hard life, a life that had bidden fair to be wholly wrecked in the name of justice. But what Steve Rush in his unselfishness did not realize, was that he had saved a human soul.
The interview with Mr. Carrhart took place that afternoon.
"Yes, sir; I think I have a few suggestionsto make," answered Steve in reply to a question from the president. "But first I should like to ask some questions of you."
"Proceed."
Steve asked the average cost of operating the ships of the fleet per month; what the ships earned by carrying coal for other concerns on the return trips, together with a number of other shrewd and pointed questions. All of these Mr. Carrhart answered freely, knowing that the boy's reasons for asking them were in the interest of his investigations.
Rush made some rapid calculations on a pad on the president's desk.
"You have some two hundred ships in the line, I believe, sir?"
"Yes; two hundred and ten."
"Would it be any saving if you could save an hour in the unloading of these ships—two hundred and ten hours, in other words, every time the whole fleet made a trip down the lakes?"
"Well, I should say it would."
"That is easy."
"Explain."
"Simply put on an extra unloader for each dock, so that both may work at the same time."
Mr. Carrhart considered. He, too, made some calculations.
"Yes, that is an excellent suggestion. It willmark a very great saving in the transportation cost. Candidly, the idea never occurred to me. You have earned your salary for one year at least," added the president with an indulgent smile. "I felt sure you would dig up something of value to us, to say nothing of the value the experience would be to you."
"I'm not through yet," laughed the Iron Boy. "I'm going to show you how you can save something like thirty thousand dollars a year more on the carrying proposition."
"Why, Rush, you amaze me. It cannot be possible, after figuring down all transportations the way the experts of this company have done and been doing for years."
"The old saying is to the effect that figures never lie. Perhaps mine do. If so, you will be able to discover the untruth at once."
"May I ask how you propose to work this great saving?" asked the president good-naturedly.
"Send your boats back light."
"Send them back light?"
"Yes, sir; in water ballast."
"But, my boy, don't you understand that it will mean the loss of a lot of money to do that? The ships earn a great many thousands of dollars a year by carrying freight for pay on the return trips."
"Yes, sir; I understand that. Their cargo is mostly coal, is it not?"
"It is."
"For ports all along the Great Lakes?"
"Certainly."
"And through carrying this coal your ships lose from a week to ten days and some times two weeks' on every round trip."
"How do you know this?" interrupted Mr. Carrhart.
"I have asked questions," smiled Steve. "Call it a week's loss of time on each trip. Do you know what that means?"
"I begin to see," answered the president reflectively.
"It means that every time your fleet makes a round trip, carrying coal back with them, the company loses their services to the enormous total of two hundred and ten weeks, more than four years, Mr. Carrhart. If you will glance over these figures of mine you will observe that, by this method, the company is losing about the figure stated by me a few minutes ago, over and above what you get in freights for carrying the coal."
The president made a few brief calculations. He went over his figures and Steve's several times, his forehead corrugated with deep wrinkles as he did so. At last Mr. Carrhartglanced up, gazing steadily at the slightly flushed face of the Iron Boy.
"Rush you are a very remarkable young man," he said. "Of course, I knew that before, but what I did not know was that you had a head for finance, such as you have just demonstrated. This is really a most remarkable showing. I shall bring it before the board at the next meeting. There is no doubt about your suggestions being adopted. I think it will come in the nature of a revelation to the board. My boy, I am proud of you. I can't tell you how proud I am, especially so because I picked you out, feeling from the first that you would prove a winner."
"Thank you, sir."
"And, in this connection, I received a long letter from Captain Simms from Cleveland yesterday. He made certain suggestions regarding yourself and your friend Jarvis, which it gives me great pleasure to act upon. You have been appointed second mate of the steamer 'Richmond'; Jarvis, first wheelman. You will be called upon to pass a government examination for a license, which you will take to-morrow morning. You will have no difficulty about it, if you are as good a navigator as Captain Simms says you are, and I have no doubt you are. If you remain on the lakes we'll be making a captainof you some of these days. However, I have an idea you do not intend to be a sailor."
"No, sir, not permanently."
And so Steve Rush began as a watch officer on the Great Lakes. He proved that the confidence of his superiors was not misplaced, and for the rest of the season he remained on the "Richmond," distinguishing himself in many ways. Gus Collins, with his fresh start in life, had dropped his hang-dog expression. When he talked to a man, now, he looked that man squarely in the eye, and from the moment of his return to the ship he was a daily worshipper at the shrine of Steve Rush.