CHAPTER XIIITHE DERELICTThe inspection of the distant craft by Captain Springer was long and attentive, and the boys watched him breathlessly.“Looks to me as though she were abandoned,” he said, at last, lowering the glasses. “No sign of life about her, and she’s wallowing in the trough of the sea. See what you make of her, Lieutenant.”The first officer subjected the vessel to as keen and long-continued an examination as had his superior.“If there are people on her, they’re either sick or dead,” was his conclusion. “From her build, I should take her to be a British ship. Tramp steamer, like enough, plying between Halifax and one of the British ports. There’s no signal of distress flying. Probably the crew have left her.”The captain and lieutenant consulted for a few minutes, and then some orders were given, and theMeteorchanged her course and made straight toward the vessel.The Radio Boys stayed where they were, their eyes glued on the distant speck that soon revealed itself to their unaided eyes as a steamer, which they judged was about three hundred feet in length. Here, at the very outset of their cruise, was a mystery, and they were eager to be in at its unfolding.As theMeteordrew nearer, the boys’ eyes scanned the vessel from stem to stern, looking for some sign of life.“Doesn’t seem to be a soul on board,” remarked Joe.“I’m not so sure of that,” replied Bob, whose eyes were the keenest of any of the party. “Seems to me I saw a head pop up over the rail toward the stern just now. There it is again. By ginger, it’s a dog!”They followed the direction of his pointing finger, but could see nothing.“Guess you’re dreaming,” said Herb, skeptically.“No, I’m not,” asserted Bob, emphatically. “There! I caught a glimpse of it again. It’s some poor brute that they had no room for in the boats, and so they had to leave him behind.”“Well, we’ll know in a few minutes whether you’re right,” said Joe, “for the boat’s slowing up now and probably they’ll send over a party to find out all about it. Gee, how I wish we could go with them!”Captain Springer happened to be passing just then, and heard the remark.“I guess that can be arranged,” he said. “You boys can pack yourselves in small in the stern of the boat I’m going to send over.”“That will be fine!” Bob answered for them. “Thank you, oh, very much!”TheMeteorslowed up when she was a few hundred feet away from the helpless vessel, keeping up just enough steam to give her steerageway, and a boat, manned by Lieutenant Milton and a crew of six, and into which the Radio Boys also went in accordance with the captain’s permission, was let down into the water.The sailors bent to the oars and the little boat sped swiftly across the dancing waters.As they approached, the conviction grew upon them that the ship had no human occupants. A stillness as of death hung over it. No steam came from the engine pipes, no smoke from the funnels. Some of the rusty plates had parted, and there was a gaping hole near the bow, through which the water rushed when the vessel rolled to that side.“Maybe it’s the Flying Dutchman,” cried Jimmy, with a little catch in his voice and, for the moment, half believing the old legend.“Or a vessel on which they’ve had the plague,” was Herb’s cheerful suggestion.“Not much likelihood of that,” said Joe. “That hole looks as though she’s been in a collision. But we’ll know all about it in a few minutes more.”The sailors rowed toward the stern, looking for a good place to board. They found a ladder near the rail and fastened the boat by a rope to the lower rung.Lieutenant Milton had just set his foot on the ladder to ascend when there came a sharp bark from above, and a black, shaggy head showed itself over the rail.“Didn’t I tell you there was a dog on board?” demanded Bob.“You win,” conceded Joe. “And I’ll bet, from the way he barks, he’s glad to see us.”Two sailors were left in the boat to fend it off from the sides of the vessel, and the rest of the crew followed the lieutenant on deck. The boys were close on their heels.A scene of indescribable confusion met their eyes as they looked around them. The deck was littered with ropes and parts of the smashed upper works of the vessel, due either to storm or collision.The lieutenant, calling on his men to follow him, made a tour of inspection of the vessel, searching the decks, the cabins, and the hold. As they had surmised, there was no man on board. The cabins were strewn with clothing and personal belongings that the owners evidently had had no time to take with them. On the tables in the officers’ dining room and the forecastle were the remnants of a half-eaten meal. In the cook’s galley, pans on the stove still had meat and eggs in them that had been burned to a crisp. Everything pointed to the fact that the vessel had been abandoned in a hurry. Perhaps at that very moment the crew were tossing about in small boats on the ocean wastes.But the attention of the boys was taken up for the moment by a big dog that came bounding up to them with joyful staccato barks of welcome. The poor creature was so glad of human companionship that it seemed as though he would go out of his senses.“Poor brute,” said Bob, as he caressed the shaggy head. “I wish we had something to give him to eat. He must be nearly starved.”“More lonely and terrified than starved, I imagine,” said Joe. “He’s probably been foraging around about among the tables.“I’ve got a little something here,” said Jimmy, a little sheepishly, as he drew a bacon sandwich from his pocket.“Caught with the goods!” exclaimed Joe. “Where did you get this, you human cormorant?”“Brought it from the table this morning,” confessed Jimmy. “You see, I didn’t know just what effect this sea air would have on my appetite, and I thought I’d better be prepared in advance. But I guess the dog needs it more than I do, and he’s welcome to it.”Jimmy tossed the sandwich to the dog, who swallowed it in two gulps and wagged his tail for more.“Got any other concealed about you?” asked Herb.“That’s all,” declared Jimmy, mournfully. “Gee, I wish I could eat as fast as that fellow can. He’s got me beaten to a frazzle.”The dog followed the boys like their shadows, as they moved about the vessel in the wake of the lieutenant and the crew.“Guess he’s adopted us,” said Herb.“Adopted Jimmy, you mean,” corrected Joe. “See how close he keeps to his heels. He thinks Jimmy is the best thing that ever happened.”“And who shall say he’s wrong?” said Jimmy, throwing out his chest. “I’ve often heard that dogs have more sense than human beings. They surely have than some human beings I could mention,” and he looked significantly at his mates.They picked up a life-preserver that had on it the words “Thomas Wilson, St. Johns, Newfoundland.”“That’s the name of the vessel and the port she hails from, I suppose,” said Bob.“She’ll never see that port again, I imagine,” remarked Joe. “I guess she’s ticketed for Davy Jones.”In about an hour, the lieutenant had learned all that was possible about the vessel and prepared to return to theMeteor.“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant,” ventured Jimmy. “How about this dog?”The officer looked at him a little quizzically.“Well, what about him?” he countered.“I—I don’t exactly like the idea of leaving him behind,” said Jimmy, a little confusedly.The lieutenant looked half-amused and half-perplexed.“We haven’t any accommodations for dogs aboard theMeteor,” he said. “Still, I’ll stretch a point and take him over to the vessel and let the captain decide.”The Radio Boys, delighted with that much gained, took advantage of the permission, and together they lugged the dog, which they had agreed to call Hector, down into the stern of the boat, which, propelled by lusty arms, soon reached the side of theMeteorand was lifted on board.Captain Springer was standing at the rail, and to him the lieutenant made his report.“She’s past saving,” he declared. “She lies too low in the water to be towed into port, and she’d go to pieces, anyway, before she got there. It’s only because she has a cargo of lumber that she’s kept afloat as long as she has. As it is, she’s breaking up fast. She’s an old boat and her timbers are rotten, while her engines are a mass of junk. It’s a wonder the old tub has been able to keep afloat until now. When she’ll finally go under though, I can’t say. It may be a day, and it may be a week. Depends a good deal on the weather. But while she’s above the water she’s a menace to shipping. A vessel that plowed into her at night wouldn’t have a Chinaman’s chance.”“Your recommendation, then, from what you’ve seen?” said the captain inquiringly.“Would be to blow her up,” replied the lieutenant, promptly.
The inspection of the distant craft by Captain Springer was long and attentive, and the boys watched him breathlessly.
“Looks to me as though she were abandoned,” he said, at last, lowering the glasses. “No sign of life about her, and she’s wallowing in the trough of the sea. See what you make of her, Lieutenant.”
The first officer subjected the vessel to as keen and long-continued an examination as had his superior.
“If there are people on her, they’re either sick or dead,” was his conclusion. “From her build, I should take her to be a British ship. Tramp steamer, like enough, plying between Halifax and one of the British ports. There’s no signal of distress flying. Probably the crew have left her.”
The captain and lieutenant consulted for a few minutes, and then some orders were given, and theMeteorchanged her course and made straight toward the vessel.
The Radio Boys stayed where they were, their eyes glued on the distant speck that soon revealed itself to their unaided eyes as a steamer, which they judged was about three hundred feet in length. Here, at the very outset of their cruise, was a mystery, and they were eager to be in at its unfolding.
As theMeteordrew nearer, the boys’ eyes scanned the vessel from stem to stern, looking for some sign of life.
“Doesn’t seem to be a soul on board,” remarked Joe.
“I’m not so sure of that,” replied Bob, whose eyes were the keenest of any of the party. “Seems to me I saw a head pop up over the rail toward the stern just now. There it is again. By ginger, it’s a dog!”
They followed the direction of his pointing finger, but could see nothing.
“Guess you’re dreaming,” said Herb, skeptically.
“No, I’m not,” asserted Bob, emphatically. “There! I caught a glimpse of it again. It’s some poor brute that they had no room for in the boats, and so they had to leave him behind.”
“Well, we’ll know in a few minutes whether you’re right,” said Joe, “for the boat’s slowing up now and probably they’ll send over a party to find out all about it. Gee, how I wish we could go with them!”
Captain Springer happened to be passing just then, and heard the remark.
“I guess that can be arranged,” he said. “You boys can pack yourselves in small in the stern of the boat I’m going to send over.”
“That will be fine!” Bob answered for them. “Thank you, oh, very much!”
TheMeteorslowed up when she was a few hundred feet away from the helpless vessel, keeping up just enough steam to give her steerageway, and a boat, manned by Lieutenant Milton and a crew of six, and into which the Radio Boys also went in accordance with the captain’s permission, was let down into the water.
The sailors bent to the oars and the little boat sped swiftly across the dancing waters.
As they approached, the conviction grew upon them that the ship had no human occupants. A stillness as of death hung over it. No steam came from the engine pipes, no smoke from the funnels. Some of the rusty plates had parted, and there was a gaping hole near the bow, through which the water rushed when the vessel rolled to that side.
“Maybe it’s the Flying Dutchman,” cried Jimmy, with a little catch in his voice and, for the moment, half believing the old legend.
“Or a vessel on which they’ve had the plague,” was Herb’s cheerful suggestion.
“Not much likelihood of that,” said Joe. “That hole looks as though she’s been in a collision. But we’ll know all about it in a few minutes more.”
The sailors rowed toward the stern, looking for a good place to board. They found a ladder near the rail and fastened the boat by a rope to the lower rung.
Lieutenant Milton had just set his foot on the ladder to ascend when there came a sharp bark from above, and a black, shaggy head showed itself over the rail.
“Didn’t I tell you there was a dog on board?” demanded Bob.
“You win,” conceded Joe. “And I’ll bet, from the way he barks, he’s glad to see us.”
Two sailors were left in the boat to fend it off from the sides of the vessel, and the rest of the crew followed the lieutenant on deck. The boys were close on their heels.
A scene of indescribable confusion met their eyes as they looked around them. The deck was littered with ropes and parts of the smashed upper works of the vessel, due either to storm or collision.
The lieutenant, calling on his men to follow him, made a tour of inspection of the vessel, searching the decks, the cabins, and the hold. As they had surmised, there was no man on board. The cabins were strewn with clothing and personal belongings that the owners evidently had had no time to take with them. On the tables in the officers’ dining room and the forecastle were the remnants of a half-eaten meal. In the cook’s galley, pans on the stove still had meat and eggs in them that had been burned to a crisp. Everything pointed to the fact that the vessel had been abandoned in a hurry. Perhaps at that very moment the crew were tossing about in small boats on the ocean wastes.
But the attention of the boys was taken up for the moment by a big dog that came bounding up to them with joyful staccato barks of welcome. The poor creature was so glad of human companionship that it seemed as though he would go out of his senses.
“Poor brute,” said Bob, as he caressed the shaggy head. “I wish we had something to give him to eat. He must be nearly starved.”
“More lonely and terrified than starved, I imagine,” said Joe. “He’s probably been foraging around about among the tables.
“I’ve got a little something here,” said Jimmy, a little sheepishly, as he drew a bacon sandwich from his pocket.
“Caught with the goods!” exclaimed Joe. “Where did you get this, you human cormorant?”
“Brought it from the table this morning,” confessed Jimmy. “You see, I didn’t know just what effect this sea air would have on my appetite, and I thought I’d better be prepared in advance. But I guess the dog needs it more than I do, and he’s welcome to it.”
Jimmy tossed the sandwich to the dog, who swallowed it in two gulps and wagged his tail for more.
“Got any other concealed about you?” asked Herb.
“That’s all,” declared Jimmy, mournfully. “Gee, I wish I could eat as fast as that fellow can. He’s got me beaten to a frazzle.”
The dog followed the boys like their shadows, as they moved about the vessel in the wake of the lieutenant and the crew.
“Guess he’s adopted us,” said Herb.
“Adopted Jimmy, you mean,” corrected Joe. “See how close he keeps to his heels. He thinks Jimmy is the best thing that ever happened.”
“And who shall say he’s wrong?” said Jimmy, throwing out his chest. “I’ve often heard that dogs have more sense than human beings. They surely have than some human beings I could mention,” and he looked significantly at his mates.
They picked up a life-preserver that had on it the words “Thomas Wilson, St. Johns, Newfoundland.”
“That’s the name of the vessel and the port she hails from, I suppose,” said Bob.
“She’ll never see that port again, I imagine,” remarked Joe. “I guess she’s ticketed for Davy Jones.”
In about an hour, the lieutenant had learned all that was possible about the vessel and prepared to return to theMeteor.
“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant,” ventured Jimmy. “How about this dog?”
The officer looked at him a little quizzically.
“Well, what about him?” he countered.
“I—I don’t exactly like the idea of leaving him behind,” said Jimmy, a little confusedly.
The lieutenant looked half-amused and half-perplexed.
“We haven’t any accommodations for dogs aboard theMeteor,” he said. “Still, I’ll stretch a point and take him over to the vessel and let the captain decide.”
The Radio Boys, delighted with that much gained, took advantage of the permission, and together they lugged the dog, which they had agreed to call Hector, down into the stern of the boat, which, propelled by lusty arms, soon reached the side of theMeteorand was lifted on board.
Captain Springer was standing at the rail, and to him the lieutenant made his report.
“She’s past saving,” he declared. “She lies too low in the water to be towed into port, and she’d go to pieces, anyway, before she got there. It’s only because she has a cargo of lumber that she’s kept afloat as long as she has. As it is, she’s breaking up fast. She’s an old boat and her timbers are rotten, while her engines are a mass of junk. It’s a wonder the old tub has been able to keep afloat until now. When she’ll finally go under though, I can’t say. It may be a day, and it may be a week. Depends a good deal on the weather. But while she’s above the water she’s a menace to shipping. A vessel that plowed into her at night wouldn’t have a Chinaman’s chance.”
“Your recommendation, then, from what you’ve seen?” said the captain inquiringly.
“Would be to blow her up,” replied the lieutenant, promptly.