For a moment Tom did not know what to do, or what to think. He was convinced that an attempt had been made to rob him in the darkness of the night, and he wanted to know who was responsible. Yet he did not want to accuse or even think of any one as guilty, unless he had good proof.
“It couldn’t have been Abe or Joe,” he reasoned. “I could have heard them if they had left the shelter after I called out. It must have been Mr. Skeel. And yet——”
He paused, and listened once more to the steady breathing of the man who had once been, and who doubtless still was, his enemy.
“Could it have been he?” thought Tom. “It was certainly some one here in the shelter with me, and there aren’t many to pick from.”
He reflected that it might have been possible for little Jackie, moving in his sleep, to have tossed toward him, and gotten his hand near the money belt. And yet the hand had felt heavier than that of the child.
“Well,” mused Tom, “it won’t do to make a mistake. I’ve got to keep quiet and see what turns up. Only I know one thing—I’m not going to sleep much the rest of the night.”
He paused in the doorway, and was about to turn back to lie down beside Jackie, when Abe, who was talking with Joe near the helm, spied our hero.
“Hello, Tom,” the sailor called in a low voice. “Anything the matter the reason you’re up? Is Jackie sick?”
“No, he’s all right,” replied Tom in a low voice, but loud enough so that Professor Skeel, if he was awake, could hear it; “Jackie is all right. I thought one of you came in the shelter to see me.”
“One of us!” exclaimed Abe.
“Yes,” answered Tom.
“We weren’t there,” went on Abe. “We’ve been standing here for the last half hour, talking about what we might do to-morrow—after we get the boat launched. We weren’t near you.”
“Guess you must have dreamed it, Tom,” suggested Joe.
“Perhaps,” admitted Tom, and yet he knew that it was no dream. “I’ll go back to bed,” he called.
The derelict drifted on, and Tom was not again disturbed that night. Jackie slept well, and sotoo did Professor Skeel—to judge by his snores.
“Well, now for a launching!” exclaimed Joe as the dawning light filtered through the early morning clouds. “We’ll see what luck we have.”
There was not much to do in the way of preparation, for the two sailors had very nearly finished the work on the previous day. The food and water—all that could be spared from the needs of the few remaining meals they expected to take aboard the hulk—had been put into the reconstructed lifeboat. An early and small breakfast was served, and then the work of sliding the craft off the derelict was undertaken.
As the sailor had said, this was not difficult. The deck of the lumber ship, on which the lifeboat rested, had such a slope that all that was necessary to do was to cut loose a retaining rope, and the craft would slide down on improvised rollers that had been made. This could be done when they were all aboard. It was like the launching of a small ship.
“But I think I’ll give her a trial first,” decided Abe, when all was in readiness for the launching. “I don’t want her to turn turtle, or anything like that, when we’re all aboard. Though she can’t sink, with the watertight compartments.”
“What’s your game?” asked Joe.
“Why, I think I’ll take a trip in her myselfjust around the hulk, so to speak, and see how she behaves. She may need trimming, or lightening, or, maybe we haven’t got the sail just right. I’ll make a trial in her.”
The others decided that this might be wise, and accordingly, when Abe had taken his place in the craft, the rope was slacked off, and the lifeboat slid into the sea.
“Hurray!” cried Tom, as the craft took the waves. “She’s a success all right.”
“Not so fast! Hold on a bit!” cried Abe. “She’s leaking like a sieve in one place!”
“Leaking!” cried his shipmate.
“Yes. One place where I must have forgotten to do the calking good enough. Haul me back, and we’ll get her out of water again, and patch her up.”
Under Abe’s directions Tom, Joe and Professor Skeel pulled on the rope that was still fastened to the craft and she was worked back on the deck of the derelict. Then Abe, making a careful examination, began the work of calking up the cracks where the water had poured in.
The work took him longer than he had supposed it would, for he found out that he had to change his ideas when it came to making a reconstructed boat water-tight. He was most of the day at the task, and when he had finished he thought of something else.
“We need oars,” he said. “We can’t always depend on the wind, and if we get becalmed out on the ocean, with no shelter, such as we have here, we’ll be in a bad way if we can’t make some headway. So I will just make a pair of sweeps.”
Which he did out of some of the lighter planks that formed part of the cargo of the derelict. Thole pins were cut out to serve as oarlocks, for there were none on the made-over boat, and thus equipped the lifeboat could be rowed, though not very fast.
“Now I reckon she’s likely to be of more use,” declared Abe, when he had finished his task.
“But it’s too late to start to-day,” declared Joe.
“Yes, we’ll wait until to-morrow,” was the other’s decision. The boat was left in the same position it had been in before, and they settled down to pass another night on the derelict, waiting anxiously for the morning.
It was just getting dusk, and they were thinking of turning in, when Jackie, who had crawled upon the roof of the wooden shelter, called out:
“Oh, Tom! Look! See the smoke! Somebody must be starting a fire to cook supper!”
He pointed almost dead ahead, and, at the sight of a line of smoke on the horizon Joe cried:
“It’s a ship! A steamer! The first onewe’ve seen! Oh, if we could only make her hear or see us!”
It was utterly out of the question to make themselves heard by shouting, but Tom, who was at the helm, swung it around until the derelict was headed as nearly as possible toward the telltale vapor.
“Wave something!” cried Abe. “Get up on the top of the shelter and wave something! They may have a man stationed up in the crow’s-nest on the lookout, and he might see us. Wave something!”
Mr. Skeel caught up a piece of the sailcloth, and, scrambling to the peak of the shelter waved the signal frantically. He kept this up for an hour, in which time the smoke gradually got below the horizon, showing that the steamer was moving away from the shipwrecked ones.
“No use,” said Tom sadly. “We’ve got to depend on ourselves.”
“And maybe it’s better so,” agreed Abe. “That steamer might be going to some place we wouldn’t want to touch at all.”
“Any place would be acceptable,” spoke Mr. Skeel, bitterly. “Oh! when will we be rescued? When will I ever get a good meal again?”
“No telling,” answered Abe grimly. “But if we have luck we ought to fetch some place by to-morrow. That steamer shows that we’re nearthe lines of travel, and we’ll hit on an island soon.”
Disappointed, but not discouraged over their failure to attract attention, the refugees prepared to spend another night aboard the derelict. Little Jackie was quite fussy, calling for his father several times, and it was all Tom could do to pacify him and keep him interested in “make-believe” plays.
Tom was a bit nervous about going to sleep, for he feared another attempt might be made to rob him. He had narrowly watched the two sailors and Mr. Skeel during the day, and he had decided that neither Abe nor Joe was guilty of the attempt to get the money belt.
“It must have been Skeel,” decided Tom, “though what he was going to do with it after he got it is more than I can say. He couldn’t have gone far with it, and I’d have missed it as soon as I awakened.”
He took a position this time so that any one coming toward him in the night would have to step or crawl over Jackie first, and thus, in a measure, the small boy would be an alarm clock.
“But I don’t believe anyone will dare try it again to-night,” mused Tom. He had narrowly watched his companions during the day, and he mentally decided that Mr. Skeel had a guilty air,though, for that matter, he seldom looked Tom, or anyone else squarely in the face.
Again it was near midnight when Tom awakened. And this time it was not because of anyone trying to rob him. He heard some one moving about on deck, and, cautiously peering out of the opening of the shelter, he saw a sight that startled him.
It was just light enough, because of the stars, to make out objects, and Tom beheld the form of Mr. Skeel at the lifeboat.
The former professor was fumbling with the retaining ropes, as if he intended to let the craft slide into the water. But Tom noticed that the man was in such a position that he could leap aboard the lifeboat as it slid away from the derelict.
“He’s trying to escape!” thought Tom. “He’s going to take our boat and leave us behind on the wreck. There’s treachery here! He’s trying to get away while we’re asleep—during his trick at the helm. Well here’s where I spoil his plans!”
Determined to foil the scheme of the unprincipled man, Tom stole softly forward, himself unobserved. He thought over several plans in his mind, and decided that he must catch Mr. Skeel red-handed.
“I’ll wait until he actually begins to move the boat,” murmured our hero, “and then I’ll call a halt. Besides I want to be sure that this is actually his game. If I jump out too soon he may say that he was only tightening the ropes, or that the lifeboat started to slip, and that he stopped it. He’s foxy, and I must be the same.”
So Tom watched, and the more he saw of the former professor’s actions the more he became convinced that treachery was intended.
“He tried to rob me, and get the money in my belt,” thought Tom, “and he was intending to escape then. That’s why he wanted the funds. Now he’s going without them—that is if I let him—which I won’t.”
The man was working swiftly and silently,pausing now and then to look over toward the shelter where he supposed all his companions were asleep. He had deserted the helm to carry out his treacherous design. Not that leaving the rude steering apparatus meant much, for there was very little wind just then, and the derelict was merely drifting.
Tom had crouched down so that he could not be seen, the lifeboat on the sloping deck of the wreck being between him and the professor. The latter was working away at the ropes. One after another he cast off. There was a slight movement to the lifeboat. It seemed about to slip into the sea.
“It’s time to act!” thought Tom.
He straightened up, took a step forward and fairly confronted the man, standing up to face him across the lifeboat.
“That’ll do, Mr. Skeel,” said Tom quietly. “I wouldn’t take that boat if I were you.”
There was a gasp of surprise from the man—the same sort of a gasp as when Tom had shown him his forged note at Elmwood Hall.
“Wha—what’s that?” stammered Mr. Skeel.
“I said, leave the boat alone!” said Tom sharply.
“I—I was just fixing it!” went on the man.
“Yes, fixing it to get away in it,” answered our hero bitterly. “I saw you.”
“It was—was slipping, and I—I——” spoke Mr. Skeel hesitatingly.
“That’s enough!” cried Tom sternly. “I saw you loosen several of the holding ropes. You wouldn’t have done that if you wanted to make the boat more secure. I believe you intended to desert us. And I believe you tried to take my money belt away from me the other night.”
“Don’t you dare say such things to me!” stormed the former Latin instructor, as though Tom were in his classroom. But the flash of the old-time spirit was only momentary.
“I dare say them because they’re true,” said Tom quietly. “Get away from that boat! Don’t you dare touch another rope.”
“Oh, I—I don’t know what I’m doing!” exclaimed the unhappy man. “I—I believe I’m going out of my mind. Don’t—don’t tell on me, Tom.”
“I must,” spoke the lad gently, and with a feeling of pity rather than anger. “Our lives depend on that boat, and if you are not to be trusted Abe and Joe must know it. I shall have to tell them. They can’t depend on you any more, and they must arrange the watch differently.”
“Oh, Tom, don’t tell!” Mr. Skeel was fairly whining now, and his underlying cowardice showed.
“Abe! Joe!” called Tom sharply.
“Aye, aye! What is it?” asked Abe, appearing at the doorway of the shelter.
“Have you sighted land—a sail?” asked Joe.
Then both sailors saw the dangling ropes that held the boat from slipping—they saw Tom standing in a menacing attitude, and Mr. Skeel shrinking away.
“The boat—it’s almost overboard!” cried Joe.
“Did some accident happen, Tom?” asked Abe.
“No—not an accident. I’m sorry to have to say it, but he—this man—was about to cut it loose, and, I think, sail off in it,” replied our hero.
For a moment there was silence, and then Abe exclaimed with a deep breath:
“The scoundrel!”
“By Davy Jones!” cried Joe. “We ought to throw him overboard! Get forward!” he cried, holding back his anger as best he could. “You’ll berth forward after this, and we’ll not trust you any more. Get forward!”
Without a word Mr. Skeel obeyed, and then Joe and Abe, with the help of Tom, made the boat secure again. Little Jackie had not awakened.
“Here’s a piece of sail cloth, it’s more than you deserve,” growled Joe, as he tossed it to Mr. Skeel. “You won’t freeze, and you can sleep on that for the rest of the night. In the morningwe’ll have a talk before we sail in the boat. We’ll decide then what’s best to be done.”
“Oh, don’t leave me behind! Don’t sail without me and leave me on this derelict!” begged Mr. Skeel.
“It would serve you right if we did,” declared Joe.
“And I don’t much fancy voyaging in a small boat with a man like him,” came from Abe.
“But we can hardly leave him behind,” said Tom in a low voice.
“No, I s’pose not,” agreed Abe. “Well, we’ll decide in the morning. Now, Joe, you and I’ll divide the rest of the night into two watches.”
“Let me take my share!” begged Tom. “I’m not a bit sleepy. In fact I don’t believe I can go to sleep again.”
“Well, lie down and rest then,” proposed Joe. “Abe and I will stand watch and watch. It will soon be daylight. Besides, we can’t take any chances with a desperate man like him. We’ve got to be on our guard.”
“That’s what,” assented Abe. “You go lie down, Tom.”
Which our hero did, and, in spite of the tumult of thoughts that crowded in his brain he managed to fall asleep beside Jackie.
The morning broke fair, and with a gentle wind.
“Hurray!” cried Joe, as he stretched himself. “Just the day for a launching. And the breeze is in the right direction too, if I’m any judge. We’ll fetch some island now. I’m sure of it, though why we haven’t done so before is a mystery to me.”
“That’s so—and we haven’t even sighted a ship,” added Abe. “I never heard tell of such a thing—drifting about in this part of the ocean as long as we have, and never a sight of the thousand and one islands that are scattered around here. It’s fair strange. But we’ll soon be all right.”
Mr. Skeel sat dejected and alone, some distance from the others, and they did not speak to him. Their hearts were too bitter against him. The scanty breakfast was served, Jackie alone getting a full ration, though naturally he did not eat much. There was plenty of water, however, but of food they must be sparing, for there was no telling how long their voyage might yet last.
“Well, what’s to be done about him?” asked Abe, when they had collected their scanty belongings in the lifeboat, and were about ready for the launching.
“That’s a problem,” declared Joe.
“We can’t leave him here, that’s certain,” decided Tom. “We have got to take him with us.”
“But he’s got to be told some plain facts,” insisted Abe. “He’s got to be made to understand that another treacherous move and overboard he goes!”
“Well, something like that,” admitted Tom. “But I guess he’s had his lesson.”
“Then you tell him,” suggested Abe. “You made him knuckle under once, and you can do it again.” For Tom had told the story of the revolt he led at Elmwood Hall.
Tom walked forward to where the renegade professor sat by himself.
“Mr. Skeel,” said our hero, “we are going to leave the derelict in a few minutes, and try our luck in the small boat. But——”
“Oh, Tom Fairfield, don’t say that you’re going to leave me here to die!” cried the man. “Don’t say that! I’ll promise anything you like. I’ll row the boat, or do anything, only don’t leave me here alone.”
“We don’t intend to,” spoke Tom. “We’ll take you with us, but only on condition that you try no more treacherous tricks. Will you promise?”
“Yes, yes! Oh, I don’t know what made me do that! I don’t really believe I knew what I was doing. I’ll promise anything you ask. I’ll do anything you say, only take me with you, please!”
He seemed sufficiently sincere, and contrite, and both Abe and Joe agreed that the only thing to do would be to take him with them.
“But we’ll keep an eye on him, just the same,” declared Joe grimly, “and he can’t share in any of the watches.”
Their preparations were all made. Little Jackie was all excitement and childish anticipation over the change to the smaller boat. In fact of late he had even ceased to ask for his father, so interested was he in their strange life on the ocean.
“All aboard!” called Abe, who acted as master of ceremonies. “All aboard, and I’ll cut loose!”
They climbed in, taking the places assigned to them, for there was not much room to move about. The sail was ready to hoist, Joe and Abe having made a seamanlike job of this. The food and water had been stowed away, and the tools they had succeeded in getting from the carpenter’s quarters were put in place. A large tin was provided in case there should be necessity of bailing against leaks.
“All aboard!” called Abe again.
He was the last one in, and arranged to cut a single rope that held the boat fast, thus allowing it to slip into the sea from the sloping deck of the derelict.
There was a moment’s pause. They all took a last look at the wreck which had been their home for so many days.
“Give the word, Joe,” said Abe in a low voice. “Watch the waves, and give the word to cut when the sea’s calm.”
“Aye, aye,” answered his mate quietly.
Fortunately there was not much of a swell on, but certain waves were larger than others, and Joe watched for a favorable one on which to launch the craft.
“Cut loose!” he called suddenly.
With a hatchet Abe severed the line. The lifeboat held for an instant, poised on the sloping deck, and then quickly slid down into the water, taking the sea with a little splash.
“Hurray!” yelled Tom. “Now we’re off!”
“Afloat again, and with something like a proper craft under our feet!” added Joe. “Hoist the sail, Abe, and let’s see how she behaves!”
The sail was run up. It filled with wind and the boat swung around, falling off before a gentle breeze. In a moment they were some distance away from the derelict.
“Good-bye, old hulk!” cried Tom. “You served us a good turn.”
“And I wish we could blow it up, or sink it, so as to take it out of the way of other ships,”spoke Abe, “but we can’t. However, we’ll give information about it.”
On forged the sailboat, putting more and more distance between herself and the wreck.
“And now, once more, I’m off to rescue dad and mother,” murmured Tom. “I wonder if I’ll ever find them?” and a mist of tears came into his eyes.
“Does she leak any?” asked Joe anxiously. He was up forward, attending to the sail, while Abe was at the helm.
“A few drops coming in,” replied the other sailor. “But nothing to speak of. She’ll swell up when she’s been in the water a while, and be as tight as a drum.”
“Good! We’ve got a right proper little boat, I’m thinking.”
“And she sails well, too,” declared Tom, observing the behavior of the craft with a critical glance. “She can go close to the wind, too, I believe.”
“Right you are, matie,” exclaimed Abe. “If we had a compass now we could lay as good a course as any ocean liner.”
But they did not have this aid to navigation, though the two sailors could manage to get along without it. They held a consultation, and decided that to steer in a general southwesterly direction would be the proper course.
“There’s islands there, if they’re anywhere,” declared Abe; “and there ought to be ships we could speak.”
“We ought to be somewhere near the equator, if the heat goes for anything,” declared Tom. In fact in the last few days the sun had become unbearably hot.
“I shouldn’t wonder but what we were, matie,” assented Joe. “We drifted and sailed quite some distance in the derelict, and we were headed for the equator when the poor oldSilver Starwent down to Davy Jones’s locker. So I shouldn’t wonder but what we’d soon cross the line, if we haven’t done so already.”
“It sure is hot enough,” agreed Abe.
It was indeed, and being in the open boat they missed the wooden shelter they had had while on the wreck. Still there was a fine breeze that sent the sailboat along at a good speed, and served to make the atmosphere more endurable.
They had brought along all the sailcloth, and once they were well under way the sailors rigged up a little shelter where Jackie could rest out of the glaring sun. The small chap was delighted with the change to the sailboat, and laughed and chatted as if being shipwrecked was a big joke.
“Though if we get into a blow it won’t be so safe in this craft as on the other,” commented Abe. “Still I think we’re in for a spell of goodweather now, and we’re somewhat out of the region of storms, if I’m any judge.”
Now that they were fairly under way again they made their plans for standing watch. Of course Mr. Skeel was left out of it, save during the day, when he was to take his trick at the helm. He seemed to realize this, and, though he did not say much, he acted differently. He seemed much more humble.
At night Tom was to take the early trick, so as to enable him to remain near Jackie during the later hours. Joe and Abe divided up the rest of the night watch.
“We’ll keep sailing night and day,” Abe said, “for we want to get to land as soon as we can, or speak some vessel, and that may happen after dark as easily as during the day.”
“The sooner the better,” murmured Joe, with a glance at the rapidly dwindling store of provisions.
They took an account of the stock when it came time to serve dinner, and the total quantity of food left was less than they had imagined.
“What’s to be done?” asked Tom gravely.
“Have to go on shorter rations—that’s all,” decided Abe. “That is, us grown folks.”
“Shorter rations!” exclaimed Mr. Skeel. “I don’t see how I can live on any less.”
“It’s a question of living several days, or dyingsooner—that’s what it is,” said Joe, half savagely. “We’ve got to keep alive until we sight land, or until a ship rescues us, and the only way to do it is to eat as little as possible. Just enough to keep from starving.”
“Then we’ll do it,” said Tom simply, and he proceeded to deal out much reduced portions of food. Fortunately there was no need to shorten the water supply yet, though they did take less, for they all knew the horror of thirst.
All that day they sailed before a fair wind, and not a moment but what they looked eagerly for a sight of some sail on the horizon, or the smudge of smoke that would tell of a steamer. But they saw nothing.
They were more anxious than they had been on the derelict, for, though the weather was calm, and seemed likely to remain so, there was no telling when a storm would sweep over the ocean. And a storm in an open boat was a different matter from one on the big, though water-logged, hulk of the lumber vessel.
True, the lifeboat had water-tight compartments, and would not be likely to sink, but seas breaking over her would mean the almost certain destruction of some, if not all, of the little band of shipwrecked ones. So they looked anxiously for a rescue.
Night came—a beautiful night with a calm sea,and a great silver moon riding over head. It seemed an augury of good luck and they all felt their hearts beat a little lighter. Even Professor Skeel looked less gloomy and sour, though he did not mingle nor talk with the others, sitting by himself.
They slept by turns, though not as comfortably as on the derelict. Still they realized that they were making better time, and time was a great object with them now.
Morning came, and found them afloat on a still calm sea, a sea that extended all around them, unbroken by any haze or mist that might mean land, or any speck or cloud that might indicate a sailing or steaming vessel. The sun beat down in a blaze of heat.
It was at noon, when Tom went to serve out the frugal meal, that he made a discovery that alarmed him.
“Look here!” he cried to Abe. “One of the water kegs has sprung a leak, and it’s empty.”
“Empty!” gasped the sailor, making his way to where Tom stood by the water supply.
“Yes, not a drop in it.”
Abe shook the keg. There was no welcome sound of water splashing around inside it. He drew the bung, and a few drops trickled out. Then, tying a length of rope to it, the sailor lowered it overboard.
“What’s that for?” asked Tom.
“I want to see where the leak is,” was the quiet answer. “I don’t see how a sound keg could spring a leak in the night.”
“Then you think——” began Tom.
“I don’t know what I do think—yet,” was the reply. He held the keg aloft, and aside from the water that dripped from the outside none came from it. “There’s no leak there,” half growled Abe. “Some one has emptied that water butt!” He looked to where Mr. Skeel stood at the helm.
“Do you think——” began Tom in a whisper.
“Wait. Don’t say anything yet,” cautioned Abe. “But we’ll keep our eyes open.”
But if Mr. Skeel knew he was suspected he did not show it. He accepted his small share of food and water with the others, and he did not complain, as he usually did.
For three more days they sailed on, each hour adding to their sufferings, for it was very hot. And they scarcely seemed to cool off in the night before it was daylight again.
The water got lower, and to Tom’s horror, one day, as he went to serve out the food, he saw that the supply was much lower than he had thought.
“I’m sure there was more than this,” he said to the sailors when the professor was at the helm.
“There’s something wrong going on here,” decided Joe, “and I’m going to see what it is. There’s got to be a search made.”
One was soon under way, but it revealed nothing. Mr. Skeel had been in the habit of sleeping on a pile of the canvas and this was looked over. The man was evidently aware of the suspicion in which he was held, but he said nothing, and quietly moved away when the sailors looked under his canvas bed.
“Unless some sort of a sea monster boarded us in the night, I don’t see how the food and water could disappear,” said Tom.
“There’s no sea monsters that could do such a thing,” declared Joe, knowing Tom was only joking. “And yet—well, we’ll have to get along with less, that’s all.”
They were down now to almost the limit of human endurance in the allowance of food and water. All but Jackie—he had nearly all he asked for.
Half a week passed. Their sufferings had increased from day to day with the heat of the sun. Their lips and tongues began to swell and get black from lack of sufficient water, and their stomachs gnawed constantly from hunger. They were days of suffering indeed.
Their eyes were strained from looking for a sail, or a sight of land. They were weak andfeverish. By dousing their bodies with sea water some of the pangs of thirst were lessened, but the matter of food could not be remedied.
Tom watched Mr. Skeel narrowly and it seemed that the professor did not suffer as did the others. Yet he did not appear to have any secret store of food or water. Indeed in a small boat it was difficult to imagine where he could hide it. Yet Tom was suspicious.
It was one cloudy night when our hero made his important discovery. It was his trick at the helm, and he had put Jackie to sleep, and moved aft to take the rude steering sweep. Professor Skeel’s position was well forward, in the bow, and the two sailors, worn out by their suffering and hardships, were lying amidships.
Tom began to feel light-headed. He imagined he saw land ahead in the darkness—a ship coming to their rescue—a ship filled with ice water and good things to eat. He imagined he heard his father and mother calling to him.
“Come, this won’t do!” he exclaimed, half aloud. “I must keep a better grip on myself. Maybe we’ll be rescued to-morrow.”
He stretched himself, and tried not to think of cool water and tables piled with food. And yet the more he tried to stop it, the more often did visions of great glass pitchers filled with ice water come before him. That day they had had onlya single tin cup full of water each—one cup full for the whole hot day!
“Oh, for a good, long drink!” whispered Tom.
And then he started. Surely that was the tinkle and drip of water that he heard! Where did it come from?
Cautiously Tom peered about him. He listened as only one can listen who is suffering from thirst, and who hears the welcome sound of water. True, there was still water in the keg, but that belonged to all, and Tom had had his share. Was there more on board?
“It seems to come from up forward,” murmured Tom, “up forward where Mr. Skeel is.” At once his old suspicions came back to him. He peered toward the bow, but the sail was in his way and he could not see well.
“I’m going to take a look,” he decided. There was scarcely any wind then, and the sea was calm. It would do no harm to leave the helm.
Carefully Tom made his way forward, walking softly past the slumbering sailors. And then the sight he saw filled him with rage.
For there, eating and drinking from a private store of food and water he had stolen, and hidden away, was the renegade professor. It wasthe trickle of water, as he poured it out from a can into a cup, that Tom had heard.
Hardly knowing what to do our hero paused. Should he spring on the traitor and take the stolen supply of food and drink away, or call the sailors? Yet it might be advisable to see where Mr. Skeel had hidden his unfairly gotten store. So Tom waited.
It was agony to see the man eating and drinking before his eyes—eating and drinking when Tom himself was parched and half starved. And yet so cunning was the former professor that he did not gorge himself. He was evidently saving some for another time.
At last, as Tom watched, the professor made an end of his midnight meal and began to hide away his supply. And it was in the forward watertight compartment that he placed his store of food and water. It was there, where no one had thought of looking, that he kept them. The compartment was one that could be opened and used as a locker and this use Mr. Skeel had made of it. He had evidently taken the food when no one was observing him, and had emptied one of the water kegs into an unused tin can, and thus supplied himself against the time of need, while the others were on short rations. And yet with all this, he had daily drawn as much as had the others.
“The trickster!” murmured Tom. “I’m going to expose him!”
Our hero stepped forward. As he emerged in front of the sail the professor saw him and started. He tried to hide the fact that he had been eating, but he did not have time to stow away all the food in the compartment.
“I’ll ask you to hand those things over to me,” said Tom coldly.
“What things?”
“The food and water you stole from us.”
“Food and water?”
“Yes! Don’t trifle with me!” and Tom’s voice was menacing. “If I call Abe and Joe it will go hard with you. They won’t stand for anything like this.”
“Oh, don’t tell them! Don’t tell!” begged the man, now a trembling coward. “I—I just couldn’t stand it to be hungry and thirsty.”
“How do you supposewestood it?” asked Tom calmly.
“I—I don’t know. But I—I couldn’t. I had to have more to eat. I have a big appetite.”
“You’ll have to take a reef in it,” went on the lad. “Now hand me over that food and water. We need it—we may need it worse before we’re rescued.”
“And you won’t tell on me.”
“Not this time. But if it occurs again——”
“What’s that? What’s the matter, Tom?” came the voice of the sailor Abe.
The professor started. Through the darkness he looked appealingly at the lad who confronted him.
“Quick!” whispered Tom. “The food and water!”
The professor passed them over.
“What’s up?” asked Joe.
“I’ve just found the missing provisions,” said Tom grimly. “They had gotten into the forward compartment.”
“The forward compartment?” queried Abe.
“Yes—by—er—mistake I fancy,” and Tom spoke dryly.
He took them from the trembling hands of the professor and walked aft with them.
“I think we can all indulge in a little lunch, and a drink,” he went on. “There is enough here for several more days now, and we won’t have to be on quite such short rations.”
“Thank heaven!” murmured Joe. “And yet I can’t see how the things got in the forward compartment.”
“Nor I,” murmured Abe, but though he thought a great deal he said nothing more on the subject.
Tom passed around some food and water, though the professor did not get any. Nor didhe ask for it. Jackie did not awaken, sleeping with the healthy fatigue of childhood.
Then a little wind sprang up, and some one must look to the helm. Tom’s trick was nearly up, and Joe relieved him.
“Tell me, matie, did the professor have the grub?” the sailor whispered hoarsely.
“He did,” answered Tom, “but I think it’s best to say nothing about it. He’s had his lesson.”
“Yes, but he may do it again.”
“We’ll take precautions, now that we know what a traitor he is,” answered the lad.
Morning came—morning with the hot sun beaming down and the oily sea running after the boat containing the shipwrecked ones.
Mr. Skeel seemed to feel his position keenly, though he was such an unprincipled man at heart that it is doubtful if any lesson had a lasting effect on him.
“Well, I don’t see anything of a sail,” remarked Abe gloomily, as his eye roved over the waste of water. “And it’s been many a weary day we’ve looked for one.”
“And the islands,” murmured Joe. “I can’t understand why we haven’t sighted some, unless we are farther north than I had any idea of.”
“Well, we can last it out for another week—with care,” said Tom slowly.
“And we’ll be careful in two ways,” spoke Abe. “We’ll eat and drink as little as we can, and we’ll watch to see that none of our supplies disappear in the night.”
He looked meaningly at Mr. Skeel as he spoke, and the professor turned his head away.
But even the discovery of the hidden food supply could not better their condition for long. The water, warm and brackish as it was, went drop by drop, for it was so hot they had to wet their lips and tongues often. The food, too, while it stopped their hunger, made them the more thirsty. Jackie, too, seemed to develop a fever, and to need more water than usual.
On and on they sailed. They were in the middle of the second week, and saw no hope of rescue. They hoped for rain, that their water supply might be renewed, but the sky was brazen and hot by day and star-studded by night.
“I—I can’t stand it much longer,” murmured Abe, at the close of a hot afternoon. “I—I’ve got to do something. Look at all that water out there,” and he motioned toward the heaving ocean.
“Water! Yes, it’s water fair enough, matie,” spoke Joe soothingly, “but them as drinks it loses their minds. Bear up a little longer, and surely we’ll be picked up, or sight land.”
“I don’t believe so!” exclaimed Abe gloomily.
“Tom, I want my daddy!” whined Jackie. “Why don’t you get him for me?”
“I will—soon,” said Tom brokenly, as he tried to comfort the little chap.
They were down to their last bit of food, and the last keg of water. The latter they had used with the utmost economy, for they knew they could live longer without food than without water. And yet there was scarcely a pint left, and it was hardly fit to drink.
They were all very thin, and the skin on their faces seemed drawn and tight. Their tongues were thick, and dark, so they could hardly speak. Jackie had been better fed, and had had more water than the others, and yet even he was failing.
Abe and Joe, being more hardy, had, perhaps, suffered less, but their privations were telling on them. Mr. Skeel had lost much of his plumpness, and his clothes hung on him like the rags on a scarecrow in a cornfield.
As for Tom, he bore up bravely. Day by day he had tightened his belt that he might “make his hunger smaller,” as the Indians say. He had even given Jackie part of his food and water.
Night came, the long lonesome night, and yet it was welcome, for it took away the blazing sun. What would the morning bring?
They were all partly delirious that night. Tom found himself murmuring in his sleep, and heheard the others doing the same. Abe collapsed at the wheel, and Joe had to do a double trick. He would not let Tom relieve him.
Toward morning the last water was doled out. No one felt like eating.
“I—I guess this is the end,” murmured Joe. “We’ve made a good fight—but—this is—the—end.”
Tom said nothing. He sat in the bow, gloomily looking off across the waste of waters. He thought of many things.
It grew lighter. Another day of heat was coming—a day when there would be no water to relieve them. How many days more?
Higher crept the sun out of the waves. Tom rubbed his smarting eyes. He looked, and then he looked again. Then, scarcely believing what he saw, and fearing that it was but a vision of his disordered brain he shouted, over and over again:
“Sail ho! Sail ho!”
Tom’s cry echoed over the water and startled those aboard the boat into sudden life. Gaspingly Joe and Abe sat up. Mr. Skeel was galvanized into sudden activity, awakening from a troubled dream. Little Jackie jumped up with a start.
“What—what is it, Tom?” cried Joe.
“Have we struck something?” exclaimed Abe.
“It’s a sail—a sail!” fairly shouted our hero. “See that vessel over there! It’s bearing down on us! A big sailing ship!”
The two sailors and the former professor gazed off to where Tom pointed. There was no doubt of it, they were gazing at a full-rigged ship.
“I saw her as soon as I opened my eyes!” Tom explained. “I was dozing, I guess. At first I couldn’t believe it. But it’s a ship all right, isn’t it?”
He was half afraid that the others would sayhe was only dreaming. Anxiously he awaited their verdict.
“It’s a ship all right,” agreed Abe.
“And coming this way,” added Tom.
“No, I’m afraid she’s leaving us,” put in Joe, a moment later.
“Don’t say that!” cried Mr. Skeel. “I—I can’t stand any more!” He was fairly quivering with fear.
“It does look as though she was going away from us,” agreed Abe gloomily. “Still, she may come around on the other tack, and see us.”
“Then we must make signals!” cried Tom. “They’ve got to see us! Yell! Shout! Make ’em hear us!”
“It’d have to be a pretty good voice that could carry that far,” spoke Joe weakly. “Still, she sees us. She’s about three miles off. Wave everything you’ve got!”
At once Tom caught up a piece of canvas. Every one, save Jackie, did the same, and soon there was a wildly-waving mass of rags to be observed on board the lifeboat.
“If she only sees us!” gasped Tom. “If she only does!”
Hope awoke anew, and Tom found himself fired with an ambition to do anything that would put him in a position to rescue his father and mother.
“Is—is she turning? Can she see us?” asked Mr. Skeel anxiously, pausing in his exertions.
“It’s too soon to tell—yet,” answered Joe. “Keep on waving.”
They had almost forgotten the professor’s mean and sneaking ways now, in the excitement over a possible rescue. Anxiously they watched the small speck that meant a vessel. Oh how anxiously! Would some one on board see them? Would she put about?
“Can’t you head for her any more directly?” asked Mr. Skeel after a bit. “It seems to me that you’re not heading any where near her.”
“I’m doing the best I can,” declared Abe, who was at the helm. “I can’t make the wind do what I want it to. It all depends on the other ship.”
They waved by turns, and again peered anxiously at the craft on which so much depended. She seemed to grow in size, at times, and again, to their despairing hearts, she appeared to become smaller, showing that she was leaving them.
But at last Joe sprang to his feet with a shout of joy.
“She sees us! She sees us!” he cried. “Look, they are putting about! They’re going to pick us up! We’re saved! We’re saved!”
“Are you sure?” asked Tom, not wanting to have his hopes raised, only to lose them again.
“Of course! Can’t you see by the way her sails are trimmed?”
“Right you are!” agreed Abe. “She’s going to pick us up. She’s seen us!”
This was more apparent to the eyes of the two sailors than to Tom or Mr. Skeel, but they gladly accepted the news. In a little while it was evident, even to Tom, that the vessel he had sighted so opportunely was indeed growing in size, showing that she was coming nearer.
“Water! Water!” gasped Mr. Skeel sinking down in the bottom of the boat. “I’m going to faint!”
Indeed he did look to be in a bad way, and, though the others wanted and needed the precious fluid almost as much as he did, some was given him. Though, as Abe remarked, the professor had had more than his fair share. Still it was not a time to grumble, and, after Mr. Skeel had been revived, the rest of the water was apportioned out among the others. And they needed it very much, for their tongues were swelled more than ever.
“But we’ll soon have all we want,” declared Joe, with a laugh that sounded queer and cracked, coming from between his swollen lips. “Enough water—all we want!”
“And food, too, food!” added Abe. “I’m as hungry—as hungry——” but a simile failedhim, and he sat down weakly to stare at the approaching vessel.
There was nothing more to do save to wait for the arrival of the ship, which soon was seen to be a large sailing craft. Nearer and nearer she came, with the big sails bulging out with the wind. Those aboard the lifeboat steered as best they could to make the distance between her and the rescuing vessel as short as possible, but their small sail did not catch much of the breeze.
Nearer and nearer came the ship. A crowd of sailors could now be made out on her deck, lining the rail to find out the meaning of the strange sight of a small open boat on the trackless ocean.
“Lifeboat ahoy!” came the hail when the big ship was near enough. “Are you in distress? Do you need help?”
“We sure do!” cried Tom. “We’ve been shipwrecked, and on a derelict. Take us off. We have no food or water.”
“What ship are you from?”
“Silver Starout from San Francisco for Sydney. Wrecked by a derelict about two weeks ago,” answered Tom. “Who are you?”
“TheAlexandria, from Melbourne, bound for Honolulu. We’ll have you on board shortly. Do you want your boat saved?”
Thus answered the first mate of the rescuing vessel. Tom looked at his sailor companions,and they shook their heads. The lifeboat, patched as it was, could be of little real service or value, and to hoist it aboard would delay matters.
“We don’t need it,” sang out Abe. “It was hard enough to rebuild, but it’s served its turn. Take us aboard without it.”
“All right,” came the hail, and a little later Tom and his companions, so strangely wrecked and rescued at sea, were on the big deck of theAlexandria.
She proved to be a large merchant ship, carrying no passengers, and the crew crowded around the refugees to hear their story.
“Water first—water,” pleaded Mr. Skeel, who, now that he was safe, seemed to resume some of his former arrogant airs. “I must have a fresh drink of water.”
“And I guess this little chap needs some as well as you,” spoke the mate, with a shrewd guess as to the true character of the former Latin instructor. “Come below and we’ll look after all of you.”
A little later, water and warm soup having been cautiously administered, Tom was telling the story of the shipwreck.
“Do you think it possible that any of the passengers or crew of theSilver Starwere saved?” he asked.
“Quite possible, though we haven’t heard of it,” answered Captain Buchanan of theAlexandria. “If they got away in a lifeboat it’s very likely that they were picked up. They were in the zone of ship travel, according to what you tell me, but you and the others drifted out of it on the derelict, and you’ve been out of it ever since. It’s lucky you put the small boat into use or you might have been there yet. And now what do you want me to do with you?”
“I’d like to go on to Honolulu,” said Mr. Skeel, as if he was the first one to be considered. “I have business there.”
“I’m going that way, and I’ll stop and put you off,” answered Captain Buchanan dryly. “What of the rest of you?”
“Any place suits me, where we can get a ship,” spoke Abe, and Joe nodded in agreement.
“What about you, Tom Fairfield?”
“Well, I’d like to go to Sydney, if it’s possible. If not, I can go to Honolulu, and take a ship there to continue the search for my father and mother.”
“Your father and mother!” exclaimed the captain. “Are they lost, too?” for our hero had not told of his reasons for being aboard theSilver Star.
“They were wrecked on theKangaroo, or so I believe,” replied Tom, and he showed the newspaperclippings that had been the means of starting him on such a long and adventurous quest.
“TheKangaroo!” exclaimed the mate. “That’s the vessel we heard——”
“Yes, yes!” assented the captain eagerly.
“Oh, have you heard any news of her?” asked Tom eagerly. “Were any of her passengers saved? Tell me!”
“It’s almost providential!” exclaimed Captain Buchanan, “but a few days ago we did speak a vessel that had some news of the missing ship—the one your parents sailed on. It seems that she picked up a boat load of sailors some distance out to sea. They were from theKangaroo. That was some time ago, you understand, for we have been from port some time, held back by contrary winds. But this ship, theBelgradeshe was, had some of the rescued sailors.”
“And—and were they the only ones saved?” asked Tom.
“I can’t be sure of that,” answered the captain, “but from the captain of theBelgradeI learned that another boat load of other survivors of theKangarooset out for some island near Tongatabu, in the Friendly group. They may have reached it. They may be there yet.”
“Were there passengers among them?” asked Tom, his heart beating with a new hope.
“There were, my boy, though I can’t tell youto hope that your parents were there. Still it may be that they were.”
“I’m going to hope!” cried our hero eagerly. “Now how can I get to Sydney, or some Australian port, and set out for that island?”
“I’ll speak the first Australian bound ship we meet,” promised Captain Buchanan, “and put you aboard. Oh, boy, I hope you find your folks!” and he shook Tom’s hand.
Once the excitement over the rescue of himself and his companions was over, Tom settled down to another task. And it was that of looking for a ship bound back to Australia, that he might once more set out in search of his parents.
“And I sure do hope there won’t be any more accidents,” Tom mused. “I’ve had my share of ’em this trip, that’s certain.”
The hardships and the privations suffered while on the derelict and in the open boat soon passed away, and the refugees were made to feel at home on theAlexandria. Little Jackie soon became a general favorite, and Tom made many friends.
As for the two sailors, they were soon at home among the members of the crew, and, as Captain Buchanan was short-handed, he signed them as first class men, so they were well provided for.
Mr. Skeel kept much to himself. He seemed in fear that his conduct aboard the boat and derelict would be told to those on board the rescue ship, but Tom and his friends had no idea ofexposing the scoundrel, as it would have done no good. So Mr. Skeel kept to himself, glad enough to be let alone.
“I suppose there is no telling when you will sight a ship bound in the direction I was to travel in, is there?” asked Tom, a few days after the rescue.
“Hardly,” replied the captain. “I have instructed the lookout to report the first vessel bound for Australia, though, and we may speak one any day. If she cannot take you all the way there she may be able to transfer you to one that will.”
“My!” exclaimed our hero. “I certainly will have my share of travel on the sea! But I sha’n’t mind, if I can only rescue dad and mother.”
“And I certainly wish you all success,” spoke Captain Buchanan. “What are your plans when you do reach Sydney or Melbourne, if I may ask?”
“I’m going to charter a steamer and sail for that island near Tongatabu,” replied Tom.
“Charter a steamer!” exclaimed the captain. “That will be pretty expensive.”
“Well, I have considerable cash with me,” answered our hero, showing the money belt which had successfully resisted the efforts of Mr. Skeel to take away. “And my father’s agent in Sydney will supply me with more, I think.”
“Then you will be well provided for,” commented the commander. “You can do almost anything—up to a certain point—with money, and it’s good you have enough. I can give you a note to a friend of mine in Melbourne who can fit you out with a proper vessel for such need as you have. He is also an experienced navigator, and if you like I’m sure he would sail to this island for you. Of course I can’t just say what one it was, for there are several in the group near the large one of Tongatabu, and you may have to make a search.”
“I’ll do it!” cried Tom, “and I’ll be much obliged to you for that note. I’ll engage your friend if he’ll come.”
Tom and the captain talked for some time longer, and our hero was given many valuable pointers about what to do. So interested did he become, and so occupied was he in looking for a vessel to take him back to Australia that he had no time to worry about his parents. Not that he did not think of them, but his thoughts were hopeful ones.
“I’ll rescue them!” he declared determinedly. “And, oh! if I could only pick up some of those from theSilver Starwho may still be adrift in open boats. And Jackie’s father! If I could only find him!”
But Tom felt that this was too much to hope. Several days passed, and no Australian boundvessel was seen. Tom began to be a bit discouraged, but one morning there was a cry on deck when he was at breakfast. He hurried up to find that the lookout had sighted a large steamer approaching them.
“Oh, if it’s only going to Australia!” cried Tom.
It was, as he learned a little later when the steamer hove to in answer to a signal from theAlexandria. A small boat was sent from the sailing ship to the steamer, and Captain Buchanan requested the courtesy of transferring one of his passengers to theMonarch, which was the name of the steamer spoken.
The word came back that Tom would be accepted.
“Good!” he cried. “I’m sorry to leave you, Captain Buchanan, but I must rescue dad and mother!”
“That’s right. Good luck to you!”
“What about Jackie?” asked Abe, who, with his mate, had come on deck to bid Tom good-by.
“He comes with me, of course,” was our hero’s answer. “I’m going to turn him over to his relatives,” he added. “Mr. Case said he had a sister in Melbourne.”
“I’m going to my daddy!” Jackie proudly informed the friends he was leaving behind on theAlexandria. “Tom is going to take me to my daddy!”
“I only wish I was,” murmured Tom with tears in his eyes.
He and his little charge were soon on the Australian bound vessel, and theMonarchgetting under way again was once more steaming toward the land of the kangaroo and rabbit.
In due time Tom landed at Melbourne, and his first duty was to take little Jackie to his relatives. That they were shocked was to be expected, over the news of the shipwreck, of which they had heard nothing, though they were beginning to be alarmed over the fact that theSilver Starhad not arrived, and had not been spoken.
Their grief and sorrow were concealed from Jackie as well as possible, and he bade Tom a tearful good-by, convinced that our hero was going to bring matters about so that everything would be all right.
Then Tom sought out Captain Mosher, to whom he had a letter of introduction.
“Humph!” exclaimed the seaman, when Tom had made known his mission, and his desire to set out in search of his parents. “It’s a slim chance, boy, and it’s going to cost——”
“Never mind the cost!” cried Tom.
“All right, then. You’re the doctor. If you want me to fit out a small steamer and go to some of the islands around Tongatabu I’m your man. Only—don’t hope too much!”
“I’ve got to hope!” cried poor Tom. “I’m going to hope until the—the last!”
“Well, maybe you’re right after all,” assented Captain Mosher. “Now to business, ways and means, a steamer, a crew, fitting out and then—well, I’ve got to get busy.”
He did, to such good advantage that inside of a week all was in readiness for the start. Tom had communicated with his father’s agent in Sydney, and, as our hero had papers to prove his identity, there was no lack of money from the inheritance Mr. Fairfield had come so far to claim.
A steamer, theSea Queen, was fitted out; a small but competent crew was hired, stores and provisions for a month’s cruise were put aboard, and one sunny day Tom took his place with the captain on the bridge.
“Well, Tom, shall we start?” asked Captain Mosher, a kindly light in his eye, for he had taken a great liking to our hero.
“Start, and go at full speed as long as you can,” came Tom’s order. “I want to get to that island as soon as possible, and find dad and mother.”
The hoarse whistle of theSea Queenwarned other craft that she was about to leave her berth. A little later her funnels belched black smoke, and from her pipe the white steam spurted. She was off for the island.