CHAPTER XSNATCHED FROM THE SEAIt would be foolish to think that the Radio Boys did not share in the general alarm. They knew that the vessel was badly damaged, and with almost every minute that passed they could detect that it was listing more heavily to port. They could hear the monotonous chug-chugging of the pumps as they worked desperately, and the sound was not reassuring.The darkness added to the sense of imminent danger. By the time the boys reached the deck after leaving the engine room the electric lights were out, and although a few lanterns had been hastily lighted and strung about here and there, their beams were obstructed by the heavy fog and hardly did more than make the darkness visible. The figures that flitted in and out the feeble zone of light seemed like so many phantoms.Then there was the fog, the dank, slimy, dripping fog, that hung around them like a winding sheet and soon had them drenched to the skin, lightly and insufficiently clothed as they were. The situation was one that might have struck with apprehension, not to say terror, the most dauntless heart.But after the boys had had time to get a grip on themselves they braced, and, without minimizing the danger which they knew existed, they kept their thoughts in their own hearts and put on a brave front.“This is an adventure we didn’t look for when we started on this trip,” said Joe, trying to throw a touch of buoyancy into his tone.“That’s the way most of our adventures have come to us,” remarked Jimmy. “Don’t think I’m scared, fellows, because my teeth are chattering. That’s mostly from the chill, though I’m willing to admit I’m scared a bit, too.”“Guess we all are,” said Joe. “But there’s no disgrace in being scared, as long as we fight the scare. What famous general was it, Bob, who admitted his knees always shook when he went into battle? But he went in just the same, and that’s what made him a hero.”“I can hear the radio operator still sending out his signals,” said Herb. “Guess he’s flinging out the old S. O. S. as fast as his fingers can work.”“Let’s go and see if he has any answers yet,” suggested Bob. “We might as well be there as anywhere else.”As they made their way to the signal room again, they heard the creaking of a pulley at the side.“Testing out the pulley to see if the boats can be lowered all right,” observed Bob.“Looks as thought they think the vessel is a goner,” said Jimmy.“Not necessarily,” returned Bob, cheerily. “That’s only a matter of precaution that any good captain would take. It’s his business to get ready for the worst that can possibly happen.”The boys passed along, being careful to avoid interfering with the activities of the crew, until they again reached the door of the wireless room.The operator, with his face pale but his jaw grim and determined, was intent on his work, and the blue flames sputtered as he worked the apparatus that was sending out urgent messages over that dark waste of waters.The boys huddled at one side of the door and listened. All of them were now so expert that the letters of the code were as plain to them as the alphabet.That the situation was about as grave as possible, could have been gathered by the expression of their faces as they interpreted the meaning of the signals.The S.O.S. was frequent and insistent. Latitude and longitude of the vessel were given as nearly as the operator could determine them, and the more extended appeals that followed were of the most urgent character.“Collided with a lumber schooner. Part of bow torn away. Water coming in rapidly. Pumps almost useless. Getting ready to take to the boats. Hurry! Hurry!”Again and again, these and similar appeals were sent out into the night.“Now we know how our people felt when their boat was sinking, that time we were at Ocean Point,” murmured Bob, soberly.“Let’s hope an answer will come to us as it came to them,” observed Joe, in a voice not too much surcharged with hope.“It may come any minute,” replied Bob, encouragingly. “Remember, we’re not out in the middle of the ocean, but in a lane that’s full of ships. Some of them will be sure to answer. Look, he’s getting something now.”The boys watched the operator as he suddenly bent over his instrument intently. And their own faces shared his look of relief when they heard the message.“United States naval vesselMeteor,” it ran. “Coming as fast as we dare to in this fog.”A moment later came a second message from a merchant steamer that had caught the S. O. S. and was steaming to their assistance.“What did I tell you?” cried Bob exultantly.“That’s bully!” exclaimed Jimmy. “I guess we’re not going to kick the bucket yet.”“We’re not born to be drowned, so we must be born to be hanged,” put in Joe, with a return of his old gayety of manner.“Let’s hope that doesn’t follow,” laughed Bob. “But listen, fellows. There’s another message.”Sure enough, it was another call, freighted with cheer and hope and promise of speedy help.“There’s luck in odd numbers!” exclaimed Herb. “That makes three, and from the locations they gave they can’t be far away. One of them must be here soon. Hurrah, fellows! We’ll be laughing over this thing tomorrow.”“They’ll have to hurry though,” said Jimmy. “This boat is going down mighty soon. Her engines must be stopped, for I don’t hear them any longer.”The engines, which had been kept going just enough to make the steering of the vessel easier, had indeed ceased running. The fact was ominous, for it implied that the water had reached the engine room. And, moreover, the vessel had listed so heavily by this time that they had to cling to the nearest stanchion to maintain their footing at all.“How is any vessel going to find us in this fog?” wondered Jimmy, a new cause for anxiety assailing him.“There’s the answer,” replied Bob, as he pointed to the stern, where a great rocket with a rush and a roar sped upward to the sky.Others followed, and, in addition, great flares were set alight in the upper works of the steamer. How far they would penetrate the fog was a problem, but their possibilities were cheering.In addition to the lights, the powerful foghorn of the vessel boomed out at intervals to help guide the rescuers groping about in fog and darkness.And the hearts of the Radio Boys leaped with gladness when in one of those intervals they heard a muffled, answering blast that seemed to be not more than a mile or two away. Shortly afterward a second, and later on a third horn were sounded on the other side of the boat.“They’re coming!” cried Bob, buoyantly.But the water was coming too, faster than the helping boats, and almost as soon as Bob’s voice died away the word was passed along that all were to take to the boats. The captain had waited till he dared wait no longer.Mr. Strong, during all this time, had been keeping in constant touch with the boys, but at the moment the order came had returned to his cabin to get something that he had forgotten.Before he returned the passengers had been herded into groups by the officers according to the capacities of the boats that were awaiting them. That to which the boys had been assigned already had its quota full, and when Mr. Strong came back he was compelled to join another boat’s company, despite his request that his party might be kept together. But there was no argument possible at a moment like that. As the plan was for the boats to keep together until they were picked up, it did not seem, anyway, to be a matter of much importance.One by one, the boats were filled, until all the passengers and crew had been accounted for except the captain and the wireless operator. They stayed on board, keeping the wireless and the foghorn going until the last minute possible. Then, when the convulsive movements of the doomed vessel told them the time had come, they got into the boats, which pulled away to a safe distance, where they lay with just enough movement of the oars to keep their heads to the waves.They had been there for perhaps five minutes when there was a terrific roar as the boilers exploded and the ship went down. Though in no danger of being sucked down in the maelstrom, owing to the distance at which they lay, the boats were tossed up and down like chips for several minutes before the tumult of the waters subsided.To the lot of the Radio Boys had fallen one of the smaller boats, of which they and some members of the crew were the only occupants.By this time, the night was resonant with sound. From three sides came the bellowing of foghorns, as the rescuing vessels felt their way through the fog mist. The sounds could not by any stretch of imagination be called melodious, but to the wave-tossed people in the little boats they were sweeter than any music they had ever heard.“Talk about concert programs!” exclaimed Bob. “That beats them all!”“The Metropolitan Opera Company never had anything on them,” returned Jimmy, grinning.The small boats had been provided with flares before they were launched, and one was kept burning all the time at the bow of each boat. But they were so close to the surface of the water that their illuminating power was feeble and limited to a very narrow zone.“If only this fog would lift!” muttered Herb.“Let’s be thankful the sea doesn’t lift,” said Joe. “What chance would we have if a storm sprang up?”“There goes a rocket!” cried Bob, as a blinding flash of light clove the darkness. “And it came from some ship close at hand. There’s the ship now,” he fairly shouted, as a vague mass loomed up, not a hundred feet away.They all joined in a loud shout that was evidently heard on the vessel, which was just creeping along, and they heard a command given that brought the purring engines to a sudden stop.At the same moment, the glare of a searchlight was turned on the boat, and for a moment it almost blinded them.“Ahoy there in the boat!” came a voice through a trumpet. “We see you. Row up to the stern and we’ll take you on board.”There was no need of urging. The sailors bent to their oars, and, guided by the searchlight which flooded the water ahead of them with its radiance, rapidly reached the stern of the vessel.There was a ladder there, and, aided by willing hands outstretched to them, the Radio Boys and the other occupants of the boat clambered to the deck.An officer, clad in the uniform of a United States naval lieutenant, stood at the head of the ladder, and greeted them heartily as they came on board.
It would be foolish to think that the Radio Boys did not share in the general alarm. They knew that the vessel was badly damaged, and with almost every minute that passed they could detect that it was listing more heavily to port. They could hear the monotonous chug-chugging of the pumps as they worked desperately, and the sound was not reassuring.
The darkness added to the sense of imminent danger. By the time the boys reached the deck after leaving the engine room the electric lights were out, and although a few lanterns had been hastily lighted and strung about here and there, their beams were obstructed by the heavy fog and hardly did more than make the darkness visible. The figures that flitted in and out the feeble zone of light seemed like so many phantoms.
Then there was the fog, the dank, slimy, dripping fog, that hung around them like a winding sheet and soon had them drenched to the skin, lightly and insufficiently clothed as they were. The situation was one that might have struck with apprehension, not to say terror, the most dauntless heart.
But after the boys had had time to get a grip on themselves they braced, and, without minimizing the danger which they knew existed, they kept their thoughts in their own hearts and put on a brave front.
“This is an adventure we didn’t look for when we started on this trip,” said Joe, trying to throw a touch of buoyancy into his tone.
“That’s the way most of our adventures have come to us,” remarked Jimmy. “Don’t think I’m scared, fellows, because my teeth are chattering. That’s mostly from the chill, though I’m willing to admit I’m scared a bit, too.”
“Guess we all are,” said Joe. “But there’s no disgrace in being scared, as long as we fight the scare. What famous general was it, Bob, who admitted his knees always shook when he went into battle? But he went in just the same, and that’s what made him a hero.”
“I can hear the radio operator still sending out his signals,” said Herb. “Guess he’s flinging out the old S. O. S. as fast as his fingers can work.”
“Let’s go and see if he has any answers yet,” suggested Bob. “We might as well be there as anywhere else.”
As they made their way to the signal room again, they heard the creaking of a pulley at the side.
“Testing out the pulley to see if the boats can be lowered all right,” observed Bob.
“Looks as thought they think the vessel is a goner,” said Jimmy.
“Not necessarily,” returned Bob, cheerily. “That’s only a matter of precaution that any good captain would take. It’s his business to get ready for the worst that can possibly happen.”
The boys passed along, being careful to avoid interfering with the activities of the crew, until they again reached the door of the wireless room.
The operator, with his face pale but his jaw grim and determined, was intent on his work, and the blue flames sputtered as he worked the apparatus that was sending out urgent messages over that dark waste of waters.
The boys huddled at one side of the door and listened. All of them were now so expert that the letters of the code were as plain to them as the alphabet.
That the situation was about as grave as possible, could have been gathered by the expression of their faces as they interpreted the meaning of the signals.
The S.O.S. was frequent and insistent. Latitude and longitude of the vessel were given as nearly as the operator could determine them, and the more extended appeals that followed were of the most urgent character.
“Collided with a lumber schooner. Part of bow torn away. Water coming in rapidly. Pumps almost useless. Getting ready to take to the boats. Hurry! Hurry!”
Again and again, these and similar appeals were sent out into the night.
“Now we know how our people felt when their boat was sinking, that time we were at Ocean Point,” murmured Bob, soberly.
“Let’s hope an answer will come to us as it came to them,” observed Joe, in a voice not too much surcharged with hope.
“It may come any minute,” replied Bob, encouragingly. “Remember, we’re not out in the middle of the ocean, but in a lane that’s full of ships. Some of them will be sure to answer. Look, he’s getting something now.”
The boys watched the operator as he suddenly bent over his instrument intently. And their own faces shared his look of relief when they heard the message.
“United States naval vesselMeteor,” it ran. “Coming as fast as we dare to in this fog.”
A moment later came a second message from a merchant steamer that had caught the S. O. S. and was steaming to their assistance.
“What did I tell you?” cried Bob exultantly.
“That’s bully!” exclaimed Jimmy. “I guess we’re not going to kick the bucket yet.”
“We’re not born to be drowned, so we must be born to be hanged,” put in Joe, with a return of his old gayety of manner.
“Let’s hope that doesn’t follow,” laughed Bob. “But listen, fellows. There’s another message.”
Sure enough, it was another call, freighted with cheer and hope and promise of speedy help.
“There’s luck in odd numbers!” exclaimed Herb. “That makes three, and from the locations they gave they can’t be far away. One of them must be here soon. Hurrah, fellows! We’ll be laughing over this thing tomorrow.”
“They’ll have to hurry though,” said Jimmy. “This boat is going down mighty soon. Her engines must be stopped, for I don’t hear them any longer.”
The engines, which had been kept going just enough to make the steering of the vessel easier, had indeed ceased running. The fact was ominous, for it implied that the water had reached the engine room. And, moreover, the vessel had listed so heavily by this time that they had to cling to the nearest stanchion to maintain their footing at all.
“How is any vessel going to find us in this fog?” wondered Jimmy, a new cause for anxiety assailing him.
“There’s the answer,” replied Bob, as he pointed to the stern, where a great rocket with a rush and a roar sped upward to the sky.
Others followed, and, in addition, great flares were set alight in the upper works of the steamer. How far they would penetrate the fog was a problem, but their possibilities were cheering.
In addition to the lights, the powerful foghorn of the vessel boomed out at intervals to help guide the rescuers groping about in fog and darkness.
And the hearts of the Radio Boys leaped with gladness when in one of those intervals they heard a muffled, answering blast that seemed to be not more than a mile or two away. Shortly afterward a second, and later on a third horn were sounded on the other side of the boat.
“They’re coming!” cried Bob, buoyantly.
But the water was coming too, faster than the helping boats, and almost as soon as Bob’s voice died away the word was passed along that all were to take to the boats. The captain had waited till he dared wait no longer.
Mr. Strong, during all this time, had been keeping in constant touch with the boys, but at the moment the order came had returned to his cabin to get something that he had forgotten.
Before he returned the passengers had been herded into groups by the officers according to the capacities of the boats that were awaiting them. That to which the boys had been assigned already had its quota full, and when Mr. Strong came back he was compelled to join another boat’s company, despite his request that his party might be kept together. But there was no argument possible at a moment like that. As the plan was for the boats to keep together until they were picked up, it did not seem, anyway, to be a matter of much importance.
One by one, the boats were filled, until all the passengers and crew had been accounted for except the captain and the wireless operator. They stayed on board, keeping the wireless and the foghorn going until the last minute possible. Then, when the convulsive movements of the doomed vessel told them the time had come, they got into the boats, which pulled away to a safe distance, where they lay with just enough movement of the oars to keep their heads to the waves.
They had been there for perhaps five minutes when there was a terrific roar as the boilers exploded and the ship went down. Though in no danger of being sucked down in the maelstrom, owing to the distance at which they lay, the boats were tossed up and down like chips for several minutes before the tumult of the waters subsided.
To the lot of the Radio Boys had fallen one of the smaller boats, of which they and some members of the crew were the only occupants.
By this time, the night was resonant with sound. From three sides came the bellowing of foghorns, as the rescuing vessels felt their way through the fog mist. The sounds could not by any stretch of imagination be called melodious, but to the wave-tossed people in the little boats they were sweeter than any music they had ever heard.
“Talk about concert programs!” exclaimed Bob. “That beats them all!”
“The Metropolitan Opera Company never had anything on them,” returned Jimmy, grinning.
The small boats had been provided with flares before they were launched, and one was kept burning all the time at the bow of each boat. But they were so close to the surface of the water that their illuminating power was feeble and limited to a very narrow zone.
“If only this fog would lift!” muttered Herb.
“Let’s be thankful the sea doesn’t lift,” said Joe. “What chance would we have if a storm sprang up?”
“There goes a rocket!” cried Bob, as a blinding flash of light clove the darkness. “And it came from some ship close at hand. There’s the ship now,” he fairly shouted, as a vague mass loomed up, not a hundred feet away.
They all joined in a loud shout that was evidently heard on the vessel, which was just creeping along, and they heard a command given that brought the purring engines to a sudden stop.
At the same moment, the glare of a searchlight was turned on the boat, and for a moment it almost blinded them.
“Ahoy there in the boat!” came a voice through a trumpet. “We see you. Row up to the stern and we’ll take you on board.”
There was no need of urging. The sailors bent to their oars, and, guided by the searchlight which flooded the water ahead of them with its radiance, rapidly reached the stern of the vessel.
There was a ladder there, and, aided by willing hands outstretched to them, the Radio Boys and the other occupants of the boat clambered to the deck.
An officer, clad in the uniform of a United States naval lieutenant, stood at the head of the ladder, and greeted them heartily as they came on board.