The water did not run in waves at this point, but swirled and foamed over the rocks beneath in eddying circles which threatened to suck down everything within reach until it was like a seething mass of boiling yeast.
“There’s depth enough to prevent us from coming to harm against the bottom,” Sam saidreassuringly, “and we’ve only to swim a quarter of a mile before gaining a good landing-place, even if Tom Downey don’t send some one to help us. All ready, lad! Keep your wits about you, an’ leave the rest with me.”
Then Sam flung his arm around the boy’s waist, pressing the lad close to him as he leaped.
Down, down, until it seemed to Benny as if they would never reach the bottom, and then came the up-rising, followed by the blessed relief of being able to breathe once more.
It had not been the lad’s purpose to follow Sam Hardy’s instructions to the letter.
He had not intended to allow himself to be dragged through the waves at risk of weighting down his comrade, but proposed to strike out for himself; and the surfman must have feared some such intention, for, fastening his teeth in the sleeve of Benny’s shirt, he held on as a dog might have done.
The boy understood that Hardy could swim more easily if he held himself up by clutching the latter’s shirt collar, and as soon as he did this the surfman released his hold.
So low on the surface of the water were the two, it was impossible to gain any idea of where the life savers or the hulk might be.
They were alone amid those angry, seethingwaters, and it was not reasonable to suppose their comrades could see them.
Had he been dependent upon his own exertions, Benny must speedily have succumbed to the violent buffeting of the waves; but Sam Hardy shielded the lad whenever it was possible, in addition to dragging him past the frowning rocks, and finally, after it seemed to the lad as if half the night had been spent, they had arrived at a cove which offered a comparatively safe landing-place.
“Stand up as soon as your feet touch bottom, and run for dear life,” Hardy said, speaking for the first time since they had flung themselves into the waves, and the words were no more than uttered when Benny was able to obey.
Hand in hand the two fled from the raging waters, only to be overtaken and hurled back at the very moment when it seemed as if a place of safety had been gained, and then came another wearying, disheartening conflict with the waves, during which Benny nearly lost his courage.
Once more it was possible to gain a foothold; once more they raced with death, and this time the venture was successful. The two gained the pebbly shore above the water-line, so sorely beaten and fatigued that speech or movement was impossible until after a rest of several minutes.
Then Sam asked solicitously:
“How are you feelin’, lad?”
“I’m all right,” Benny replied, panting so heavily that it was only with the greatest difficulty he could articulate.
“This ain’t the kind of a night when a fellow can lay along the shore very long without running the risk of freezin’ to death. We’d best be movin’ as soon as you can walk.”
“I’m ready now,” and Benny rose to his feet.
“Throw off that cork-jacket; take hold of my hand, and once we’ve started, keep movin’ as long as it’s possible to breathe. We came out of that smother all right, an’ now are bound to get back to the station in such shape that we’ll be able to do our full share of the work.”
“Will the crew try to do anything more, now that the life-boat is gone?” Benny asked as he followed at a rapid pace by Sam’s side.
“We’re obliged to do all we can to prevent wreck, an’ a dip like this don’t excuse us from a full share of duty when there’s pressin’ need.”
“It would seem different if there was any one aboard the steamer or lighters.”
“We are called on to save property as well as lives, lad, an’ whatever danger we may have been in, or must face later, don’t count.”
There was no question in Benny’s mind but that the three men had been taken safely from the hulk,because Sam Hardy declared they would be, which declaration was the same to him as a fact; therefore he felt no anxiety until they were within fifty yards of where the lighter lay stranded upon the sands.
“The boys are still there,” the surfman said as he halted an instant to peer seaward. “I reckon they’re right comfortable, though, for the surf doesn’t break over them very badly, and it will soon be possible to give them a line.”
“Where is Mr. Downey and the others?” Benny asked, gazing around but without seeing any sign of life upon the shore.
Sam Hardy stopped only sufficiently long to assure himself they were not in the vicinity, and then replied in a tone of conviction:
“Gone back to the station for the beach-wagon.”
“Perhaps they never got ashore,” Benny added in a whisper of awe.
“Don’t get such an idea as that in your head, lad. I’d answer for it every one didn’t go under, an’ the fact that there are none here is proof each man answered to his name.”
“What do you suppose they thought had become of us?”
“We didn’t cut any figger in their thoughts, lad. Most likely Downey knew I jumped aboard the life-boat, an’ after that he counted us out when reckonin’ how many was in need of help. We’llpush on, for it’ll be a hard tug gettin’ that cart over these rocks with only half a crew.”
“Are the other lighters adrift?” Benny asked as he followed his comrade at a smart pace.
“Ay, lad, an’ as near as I can make out, two of them are afoul of the steamer. There’ll be a pretty mess there when the sun rises, an’ we’ll be hauled over the coals for it; but I’ll thank anybody to tell me how we could have done more than we did.”
At that moment Benny gave little heed to the fate of the stranded steamer; if the three men could be safely taken from the lighter he believed there would be cause for rejoicing, even though all hulks alongshore were dashed to pieces.
Before the two had traversed more than a third of the distance from the scene of the disaster to the station they came upon the remnant of the crew dragging the beach-apparatus.
Benny may have thought that the keeper would at least congratulate them upon their escape, but he did nothing of the kind. Danger was too frequent a visitor to cause much comment, save at the very moment of its appearance, and the keeper said quietly, as if they had been engaged in some ordinary duty:
“Got ashore, eh? Where’s the life-boat?”
“The other side of Jefford’s reef. While the wind holds in this quarter there’s no fear she’ll drift far, an’ we can pick her up in the mornin’.”
“Take hold here, and let us finish this job as soon as may be, for I don’t like the idea of leaving the remainder of the coast without a patrol”; and he added after the wagon was in motion once more, with Sam and Benny in the rope harness, “Did the other lighters come in?”
“They’re grindin’ the steamer into toothpicks. Even if we had all hands out there in the big boat, it would be impossible to do anything.”
“I know that,” Downey replied impatiently, “an’ yet it will seem to others as if we might have done more. A pretty story we’ve got to tell about this night’s work! A crew of life savers wrecked in a life-boat! If we’re not the sport of every man in the Service from this out, I’ll eat my hat!”
“And yet there’s no man livin’ who could have foreseen what happened. It was the proper thing to send us on board the lighter, an’ if her gear gave way, we’re not to be blamed for it,” Sam replied earnestly, and Tom Downey remained silent.
When the beach-wagon had been hauled into position, the work of rescuing the life savers from the lighter was trifling, and the three were no more than ashore before Keeper Downey cried sharply:
“Now then, let’s get the apparatus home, and the patrol out as soon as may be. There’s some show of excuse for our not being able to save the property here; but in case a vessel came ashore while we were foolin’ around with a lot of lighters, and life should be lost, we’d find ourselves in a bad pickle.”
The keeper was not the only member of the crew who feared that the night’s misadventure might have some fatal ending. The same thought was in the mind of every man, and it was not necessary to urge them forward.
Benny welcomed the opportunity to restore the circulation of blood to his chilled limbs, and pushed with the utmost of his strength at the tail of the cart by the keeper’s side.
The heavy wagon was dragged over the rocks and through the sand at a rate of speed which, under other circumstances, might have been impossible, and when they had nearly arrived at the station Tom Downey was less apprehensive regarding the possibility of a wreck, for at that moment they were passing over the highest point of the cliffs, from which a good view of the ocean could be had.
Save for a few fleecy clouds, the sky was clear, and the twinkling stars gave out sufficient light to show that not a sail was within their range of vision.
“I reckon we can count the worst of our work as bein’ over for this night; but there won’t be a very pretty picture alongshore to-morrow morning,” the keeper said to Benny, and the latter replied with a tone of thankfulness in his voice:
“Things will look better than you believed at one time, Mr. Downey, for then it seemed as if you’d be called upon to hunt for the bodies of the crew among the wreckage.”
“Right you are, my lad, and it’s little less than a sin to grumble because two or three lighters and a stranded steamer may have been broken up, when the crew came safely through as tough a place as they were ever in. It’s a great pity I allowed you to go with us.”
“But I’ve come out of it without any more harmthan any of the others, sir, and it will help me along in learning to be a surfman.”
“You might have got the lesson in an easier fashion, lad. It’s hard enough for tough men like us to have the clothing frozen to our bodies, but a boy like you can’t well stand such hardships.”
“But I’m all right, sir,” Benny replied, striving in vain to prevent his teeth from chattering with the cold. “Leastways, I will be as soon as we get to the station, and this work with the cart warms a fellow up wonderfully.”
Downey did not reply until after a long pause, and then he said emphatically:
“If pluck is necessary in the making of a good surfman, you should be a rare hand at the business, No. 8, before another year has passed.”
What a welcome it was which Benny received from Fluff when they finally arrived at the station and the beach-wagon had been hauled into the boat-house!
The tiny dog capered, and barked, and yelped until it seemed as if he realized how great had been the danger to which his master was exposed, and so violently loving were his demonstrations that Benny could not make any headway at changing his clothing until after having devoted a certain time to his pet.
Then the dog greeted each of the men in turn,and Joe Cushing said as he took him almost affectionately in his arms:
“You an’ No. 8 make up such a team, small though you are, as I never had the good fortune to see before.”
A pot of steaming coffee was on the stove, and the cook spread on the table such provisions as were most conveniently at hand, in order that those who were forced to go out on the coast again to do patrol duty might refresh themselves without waste of time.
Once the men had put on dry clothing it was as if all previous dangers were forgotten, and SamHardy suggested that they man the surf-boat in order to go in search of the life-boat.
“She’ll pound herself to pieces on the rocks ’twixt now an’ mornin’, whereas by a bit of hard work at this time we may save her, an’ in so doin’ prevent it from bein’ said along the shore that we allowed such a craft to be wrecked.”
Tom Downey hesitated; he questioned whether he was warranted in risking human lives to save what might be replaced by an expenditure of dollars and cents, and perhaps would have turned a deaf ear to Sam’s suggestion, but that every other member of the crew evinced a strong desire to make the attempt.
Their record for saving life and property was exceptionally good at the Department, as every man knew full well, and to get such a black mark as must be set down against them in case the life-boat should be lost, was anything rather than pleasing to contemplate.
“I claim that we are not warranted in taking the chances,” Downey said slowly and thoughtfully; “but if you fellows are so set on it, we’ll make the try.”
As he spoke Benny began to overhaul the spare oil-skins—the suit he wore when they set out before having been thrown off when he with Hardy leaped into the water—, and Downey asked sharply:
“What are you about, lad?”
“There’s another small coat here somewhere,” and Benny hurriedly tossed over the assortment of waterproof garments.
“Well, and what if there is?”
“Didn’t you say we were to go for the life-boat, sir?”
The crew laughed heartily, as if there was something exceedingly ludicrous in this question, and Benny looked around in astonishment.
“Do you count on going with us?” Downey asked, as soon as he could control his mirth sufficiently to speak.
“I thought you would let me, sir, seeing as how I went the first time.”
“Because we were so foolish as to take you then, there is no reason for committing the same fault again. You are to stay here with the cook and Fluff C. Foster. Once in a night is enough for you to risk your life when there’s no especial call for so doing.”
Benny appeared positively pained, and Sam Hardy whispered to him while the others were making their preparations:
“It wouldn’t be right, lad, for us to take you, even though it might be convenient, which it isn’t. We’re goin’ in the surf-boat, and there will be snug stowin’ when the full crew is aboard. If it was a case of fair weather an’ smooth water you’d haveto stay behind, because we couldn’t pack you in; so look cheerful, an’ see to it that we have plenty of hot coffee on our return.”
This explanation comforted the boy greatly, and he at once set about doing what he could to assist in the preparations for departure.
Then, after the boat had been launched and the men pulled off on their perilous work, with Fluff in his arms he stood at the entrance of the boat-house, watching until the tiny craft was swallowed up in the darkness, and when it was no longer possible to distinguish any object upon the heaving waters the lad returned to the mess-room, there to make ready an appetizing meal for his comrades.
The cook had taken advantage of the opportunity to go to bed immediately the crew returned with the beach-wagon, and Benny was in sole command of the kitchen with, as he said, “Fluff acting as mate.”
Not until two hours had elapsed did the life savers return, and then they brought the life-boat with them, none the worse, so Dick Sawyer declared, for the pounding she had received upon the rocks.
Benny met them at the door of the boat-house, and, as might have been expected, was eager to learn whether any serious injury had been wrought.
As soon as the two boats were housed, and before they entered the mess-room, Sam Hardy gave an account of the work by saying:
“We found her just inside the broken water near where you an’ I went overboard. It’s likely she’s been flung against the cliff a good many times; but, so far as we can make out, scratched paint is the only damage done. It wasn’t a wonderfully easy job to get hold of her, but once we were there for that purpose you can make certain, No. 8, that none of us were minded to let any ordinary difficulties put an end to the work. That’s all there is to the story, and it can be seen that you didn’t lose anything, except a disagreeable time, by not going with us.”
While Sam was speaking the remainder of the crew had entered the mess-room, and an exclamation of pleasurable surprise burst from the lips of all as they saw the meal which Benny had made ready.
“I’ve said before, an’ this proves it, that the time ain’t so far off when No. 8 will be able to pass examination as our cook,” Joe Gushing exclaimed, and Tom Downey added gravely:
“I hope we can make something better of the lad than that. There’s too much in Benny for us to tie him down to such work, and, unless I’m greatly mistaken, he is entitled to look many pegs higher than a job as surfman.”
Then the wearied crew sat themselves down for a pleasant half-hour, which would not have been enjoyedhad they been forced to depend wholly upon the man who was paid for preparing their food.
Not until an hour past midnight did Benny go to bed, and next morning he was down-stairs with the earliest riser of the crew.
The wind had not spent its fury. On the contrary, it was blowing a full gale, bringing with it a downpour of sleet and snow which would prevent the wrecking tugs from returning to the scene of the disaster.
As soon as breakfast had been eaten all the men, with the exception of him whose duty it was to remain on watch, set out to ascertain the amount of damage done, and, as a matter of course, Benny accompanied them.
Fluff was given the choice of going with his master or remaining behind in the warm station, and after poking his pink nose out of doors for a single moment, he quickly retreated to the kitchen, giving evidence, as Sam Hardy declared, of “havin’ a deal of sound common-sense.”
The situation of affairs in the immediate vicinity of the steamer was even worse than had been anticipated. All the lighters but one had crashed into the stranded craft, making havoc of the timbers as they forced their heavy bows into the hull, and completely destroying what the waves had previously spared.
Along the shore in every direction were scattered fragments of lighters and steamer, until every cove which made in between the rocks was piled high with these evidences of devastation.
“We shan’t be troubled much longer with wrecking crews,” Joe Cushing said, when they had surveyed the entire shore in the vicinity. “There’s nothin’ to be done to the steamer except freight away such parts of her as are worth the savin’, and as for the lighters, they will do no more service unless it be as kindlin’ wood.”
“And yet all this might, perhaps, have been avoided if the wreckers had done their work properly; but since they didn’t, we shall be asked to explain how it happens we allowed so much property to be destroyed,” Tom Downey said with a sigh, and Sam Hardy added cheerily:
“If all hands tell the truth, I’m not afraid of an investigation concernin’ last night’s work, for the crew never lived that, unaided, could have prevented the heavy craft, fitted with rotten windlasses and apologies for cables, from goin’ adrift while the wind was as strong as when we came out.”
There was nothing the men could do even toward saving the wreckage nearest the shore while the storm continued so violent, and after an hour or more had been spent viewing the scene all hands returned to the station.
It was an idle day, save as concerned the men on watch, and after dinner, when Benny would have pored over the rules regarding drill, Tom Downey suggested that he make himself thoroughly familiar with the official instructions for saving drowning persons, printed for the benefit of the life-saving men.
During two hours or more No. 8 read and re-read the following lines, after which Sam Hardy questioned him on the different points until it was proven to the satisfaction of all that the lad had learned his lesson thoroughly.
Since it is to the advantage of every boy who ventures into the water for pleasure to know exactly what should be done when another is in danger of drowning, Benny’s afternoon lesson is here set down exactly as he studied it:
“1. When you approach a person drowning in the water, assure him, with a loud and firm voice, that he is safe.
“2. Before jumping in to save him, divest yourself as far and as quickly as possible, of all clothes; tear them off if necessary, but if there is not time, loose at all events the foot of your drawers, if they are tied, as, if you do not do so, they fill with water and drag you.
“3. On swimming to a person in the sea, if he be struggling, do not seize him then, but keep off a fewseconds till he gets quiet, for it is sheer madness to take hold of a man when he is struggling in the water, and if you do you run a great risk.
“4. Then get close to him and take fast hold of the hair of his head, turn him as quickly as possible onto his back, give him a sudden pull, and this will cause him to float, then throw yourself on your back also and swim for the shore, both hands having hold of his hair, you on your back and he also on his, and of course his back to your stomach. In this way you will get sooner and safer ashore than by any other means, and you can easily thus swim with two or three persons; the writer has even, as an experiment, done it with four, and gone with them forty or fifty yards in the sea. One great advantage of this method is that it enables you to keep your head up, and also to hold the person’s head up you are trying to save. It is of primary importance that you take fast hold of the hair and throw both the person and yourself on your backs. After many experiments, it is usually found preferable to all other methods. You can in this manner float nearly as long as you please, or until a boat or other help can be obtained.
“5. It is believed there is no such thing as a death grasp; at least it is very unusual to witness it. As soon as a drowning man begins to get feeble and to lose his recollection, he gradually slackenshis hold until he quits it altogether. No apprehension need, therefore, be felt on that head when attempting to rescue a drowning person.
“6. After a person has sunk to the bottom, if the water be smooth, the exact position where the body lies may be known by the air-bubbles, which will occasionally rise to the surface, allowance being of course made for the motion of the water, if in a tide-way or stream, which will have carried the bubbles out of a perpendicular course in rising to the surface. A body may be often regained from the bottom, before too late for recovery, by diving for it in the direction indicated by these bubbles.
“7. On rescuing a person by diving to the bottom, the hair of the head should be seized by one hand only, and the other used in conjunction with the feet, in raising yourself and the drowning person to the surface.
“8. If in the sea, it may sometimes be a great error to try to get to land. If there be a strong ’outsetting’ tide, and you are swimming either by yourself, or have hold of a person who cannot swim, then get on your back and float till help comes. Many a man exhausts himself by stemming the billows for the shore on a back-going tide, and sinks in the effort, when, if he had floated, a boat or other aid might have been obtained.
“9. These instructions apply alike to all circumstances,whether as regards the roughest sea or smooth water.”
When night came it was what sailors call a “dirty” one, and Sam Hardy announced that Benny would not be allowed to go on patrol.
“You know we made the agreement, lad, that you might share my watch with me except when the weather was too bad, and that’s what I allow it to be now. There’s no good reason why a boy of your years an’ size should tramp up an’ down this coast for four hours when nothin’ more is to come of it than the toughenin’ of him. Stay under cover with Fluff, an’ if it be so we’re called on for work, you shall take your proper station as No. 8 of this ’ere crew.”
Benny did his best, and succeeded fairly well, in keeping from his face the disappointment which came over him at thus being, for the first time, deprived of the opportunity to share in his comrade’s tasks.
He went to bed while Sam was yet on patrol, and nothing disturbed his slumbers until next morning when the cook set about preparing breakfast.
The report from those who had been on duty was to the effect that no vessels had been sighted during the night, and that the stranded steamer had been breaking up rapidly during the past twelve hours.
The sky was yet cloudy, but the snow and sleethad ceased to fall, and the wind showed signs of abating.
Before breakfast was ready the wrecking tugs appeared off shore, and two hours later some of their crews visited the station.
Keeper Downey wrote out his report, and when that was done the work of the life savers, so far as the steamer and lighters were concerned, had come to an end, except as it might be possible later to pick up such wreckage as should drift ashore.
Then the crew settled down to the dull routine of pleasant-weather work, occupying the greater portion of the time in drilling and patrolling the coast.
Benny could give a very good synopsis of, and in many cases repeat verbatim, every chapter in theRevised Regulations. Each of the crew in turn had taught Fluff C. Foster a new trick, until his head was so stored with knowledge of this kind that a full hour was required in which to display all his accomplishments, and Joe Cushing had begun to lay his plans for the day when he and No. 8 were to visit the city clad in full uniform.
Then came a letter which disturbed all this serenity, and plunged the inmates of the station into a most painful state of perplexity and apprehension.
An ordinary-looking envelope covered the missive, such an one as might have brought an account of the simplest business transaction, and yet it threatenedto change the whole course of affairs for this particular life-saving crew.
It was addressed simply to the keeper of the station, and bore the post-mark of a town in the interior of New York State.
Tom Downey opened it carelessly, read the lines hurriedly at first, and then more slowly, as if he found it difficult to understand the meaning.
He sat with his gaze fixed upon the page so long that Sam Hardy, who had been questioning Benny regarding the proper method of landing in a small boat through the surf, asked curiously:
“What’s gone wrong? You look as if there was bad news in that letter.”
“And at first glance it strikes me itisbad news,” the keeper replied. “I was tryin’ to make up my mind whether it would be well to let all hands know what may come to us, or if anything would be gained by keepin’ it a secret for a spell.”
“If it’s bad news, the sooner we know it the better, accordin’ to my way of thinkin’,” Joe Cushing said promptly; and this remark decided Tom Downey, for without further hesitation he read the following aloud:
“‘My dear Sir:
“‘I see by the newspapers that the shipAmazoniawas wrecked near your station, and the sole survivor was a boy ten or twelve years of age, who gave his name as Benjamin H. Foster, stating that his father and mother had died in Calcutta.
“‘I have every reason to believe that boy to be my brother’s son, in which case it shall be my duty to care for him.
“‘Will you kindly ask him his father’s name? If it should have been “Stephen G.,” then you may draw on me for sufficient money to pay young Benny’s passage to this place, and for so much additional as he may be indebted to you for board and other necessaries of life.
“‘Very respectfully yours,
“‘Andrew Foster.’”
For fully a moment after Mr. Downey ceased reading no one spoke, and the silence was so profound that Fluff looked anxiously from one to the other as if fearing some disaster had befallen the crew.
Then it was Sam Hardy who spoke, and he found it necessary to clear his throat several times before it was possible to control his voice.
“What was your father’s name, Benny?”
“It was Stephen G., but I don’t believe the man who wrote that letter is my uncle, because if he is, why didn’t I know something about him? Or, when father and mother were so sick, why didn’t he write to them?”
“Of course that’s a question we can’t answer, lad. It may be your folks didn’t send him word, or, perhaps the letters went astray. There are a dozen good reasons which might be found, and it ain’t likely he’d be claimin’ a boy he never saw if there wasn’t any relationship between ’em.”
“I hung ’round Calcutta long enough for him to claim me if he’d wanted to, an’ surely he must have known father was dead, ’cause I’ve heard mother say it was reported among the shippin’ news in all the American papers.”
“You don’t seem to be very much pleased at the idea of havin’ an uncle up in ’York State?” Sam Hardy said, speaking a trifle more cheerfully than before, and Benny cried excitedly:
“Pleased! Of course I ain’t! He can’t be much of an uncle, else he would have helped father an’ mother along when they needed it. He can write a dozen letters before I’ll go anywhere to live off of people that ain’t wantin’ me very bad, else I’d have heard from ’em long ago.”
“This ain’t a matter to be settled off-hand, Benny,” Keeper Downey said gravely. “If the man who wrote this letter is your uncle, and it seems he is, I’m not certain but that he could force you by law to go with him. At all events, it’s his duty to give you some help in the world, and we must look at the matter from all sides before deciding.”
“If you’d rather I wouldn’t stay here, Mr. Downey, Fluff an’ me will go off somewhere else; but we won’t take up with his offer.”
“Now look here, Benny,” and Sam Hardy, reaching over, took the boy by the hand. “There’s no question about our wantin’ you to stay here, for we’ve come to look on you as belongin’ to us, an’ I’ll venture to say I’m speakin’ now what’s in the heart of every man here. We like you because you’re a sensible mate, an industrious lad, an’ one’s who’s doin’ his level best to get into a hard callin’. If we thought only of ourselves that letter would go into the fire before you could say ‘Jack Robinson.’ It’s your future that must be considered.By stayin’ here you’ll never be more ’n a surfman, an’ a lad of your age should aim higher than that, whether he reaches the mark set or not. I ain’t lookin’ down upon the business I’ve followed all my life, an’ I’ll always uphold that it’s an honor to any man to be a member of a life-saving crew; but at the same time I know, an’ you know, that it’s possible for a lad to go a good bit higher. What’s decided on now affects your whole life, an’ settles whether you’re to stay in the life-saving service, or, perhaps, be a shinin’ light in the world. I vote that all hands of us study over this thing till to-morrow after breakfast, and then let each one, includin’ Benny, give the result of his figgerin.’”
“That’s the proper way,” Tom Downey said quickly, catching eagerly at the suggestion. “You’ll remember all Sam Hardy has said, Benny, for it’s true, so far as regards yourself an’ us. We want you with us; but I hope there’s nobody in this crew who would be willing to keep you at the expense of your future. Think it all over calmly and quietly, lad, as Sam proposes, an’ you can count on this crew doin’ their level best for whatever may be to your future good.”
Benny was in a state of mind bordering on despair when the crew postponed any decided action on the letter from this uncle of whom he had never heard before. For the moment it seemed as if almost any decision would have been better than the suspense.
It appeared as if his comrades avoided even so much as looking toward him, and this gave him a sense of loneliness such as had come into his heart when he found himself amid strangers, the only survivor of theAmazonia.
As a matter of fact there was not a member of the crew but that would have enjoyed taking the lad in his arms and declaring that he should never leave the station, no matter how many uncles might send for him; but every man understood the question was too important to be decided hastily, and also that it would be cruel, perhaps, to speak such words as might influence the boy.
Benny waited a moment or more, hoping SamHardy might give him some consolation; but as the surfman remained silent with averted face, the sore-hearted lad, gathering Fluff in his arms, went out upon the wind-swept rocks to struggle as best he might with the great grief which had so suddenly come upon him.
Seating himself within view of the reef upon which theAmazoniahad gone to pieces, and covering Fluff with his coat as best he might, the lad gave himself up to reflection—not as to what was best for him to do regarding the matter of going to his uncle; but concerning the cruel tricks which fortune seemed to be playing him.
“I know neither mother nor Mrs. Clark would want us to go off to that old man who never cared for us a cent’s worth till he saw the news of the shipwreck in the papers, and it’s horrible for him to interfere just when we’d got into such a nice place!”
The dog licked his master’s face, and interpreting this as meaning Fluff fully agreed with him, Benny continued mournfully:
“We won’t go, Fluffy, and that’s all there is to it. If the crew say we can’t stay here because that man claims the right to order us ’round, we’ll run off somewhere by our own two selves, an’ see if it won’t be possible to make another home. But we’ll never find such a pleasant place as this, nomatter how much good luck we have! It seemed as if the men liked us, an’ after there’d been time to grow, we’d come out as regular surfmen.”
The dog whined because he was cold, but Benny fully believed it to be in reply.
“Of course you’re sorry, Fluff! Anybody’d be; an’ whatisto become of us? You’ve got a collar and a medal, and there’s my two suits of clothes; but we’ll need some place to sleep in the very first night of leaving here, and where’ll we find it? The money the passengers gave us is in the bank, and I suppose Andrew Foster will think it belongs to him, so we can’t count on that.”
Fluff twisted and squirmed until he escaped from his master’s arms, for the embrace was much too close to please him, and as he capered and danced, begging to be taken back to the station Benny’s grief increased:
“I know you want to stay here, Fluffy; but how can I fix things? It’s going to be terrible hard on you to go where folks won’t want you in the house ’cause you’re a dog, an’ we can’t be together much of the time. Oh, what shall we do, you poor little man!”
Believing himself hidden from view of the life savers, the lad gave way to the grief in his heart, and, lying face downward upon the rocks, he allowed the tears to flow unchecked.
It was Sam Hardy who, missing Benny from the station, had come out fearing to find him in much such a frame of mind.
During two or three minutes the kindly-hearted surfman stood over him in silence, while Fluff remained near by wagging his tail as if asking what had gone wrong so suddenly, and then, bending over, Sam Hardy lifted the sorrowing boy in his arms.
“Look you, lad, it’s wrong to get all down to the heel in this fashion when a question comes up which is to be settled as nearly for your good as we can figger it out. A life-savin’ station ain’t the kind of a home which is needed by a boy of your age.”
“It’s the only kind I want!” Benny sobbed. “Fluffy an’ I’ll never find another so good!”
“That’s what you believe now, No. 8; but——”
“Why do you call me No. 8? If I’m to be sent away from here it shows I never was one of the crew!”
“But you have been, an’ always will be, Benny, lad. Even if you go away we shall never speak or think of you except as ‘No. 8,’ the gritty little mate who brought something like sunshine into the dull station, and kept the gleam there every minute he stayed with us.”
“Don’t talk like that, Mr. Hardy,pleasedon’ttalk like that! When you say you’re sorry, and yet keep on talking as if it was settled that I’d got to go, it breaks me all up!”
“Poor little chicken, it strikes me you’re badly broken up already!” And Sam stroked the boy’s hair with his huge, rough hand, while Fluff crept under the life saver’s arm as if asking that he be given due share of the caresses. “If we of the crew did only that which pleased us best, you’d never have a show for leavin’; but, as Tom Downey says, we’re bound to think only of what may be for your good, an’ in making up our minds it is with the hope we’ll go right for your sake.”
“That man, Andrew Foster, don’t care about Fluffy an’ me, ’cause he never so much as saw us!”
“That same thought has been in my mind, Benny, lad, an’ Joe Cushing has been makin’ similar talk. If we were certain he’d care for you as we do, the matter would be settled, for it stands to reason you should have a different home than this. But I don’t like the way his letter reads, nor do the rest of the boys; so you see, lad, the question ain’t settled by a long chalk yet.”
“Please try to make the men want to keep me! Please try, Mr. Hardy.”
“Bless your heart, No. 8, there’s no need of my tryin’ to do anything of the kind. The only troubleis we’re so eager for you to stay that we’re afraid of ourselves—afraid we sha’n’t be actin’ square by you. Here’s Tom Downey been sayin’ that he’d be willin’ to give up ten dollars a month out of his pay for so long a time as he is in the service, for the sake of havin’ you ’round, an’ Dick Sawyer is threatenin’ all sorts of terrible things against your uncle because he wrote the letter. We want you, lad, as badly as you want to be with us, an’ that’s what’s makin’ it so hard to settle the matter.”
Benny twined his arms around the surfman’s neck, and the latter, lifting him as tenderly as he would an infant, carried him back to the station, Fluff following close at his heels, barking with delight because they had finally decided to go in out of the cold wind.
Now it was that Benny’s grief became more intense; this time because of the unusual tenderness and attention shown by every member of the crew. Each man appeared as if striving to show the boy some particular attention as proof of the esteem in which he was held, and try as he might, No. 8 could not hold back the tears of mingled pleasure and sorrow.
During the remainder of the day each member of the crew went around softly, hardly speaking above a whisper, as one does when in the presence of some great affliction, and the cook positively forbadeBenny’s going into the kitchen for the purpose of assisting in the work.