Helen in the Editor's Chair Part 29

They tried every ride, the merry-go-round and the ferris wheel, roller skated, went bathing, listened to the band concert, munched hot dogs at irregular intervals and wound up the afternoon almost exhausted and ready to start for home. So were some other hundreds of people and they found it impossible to get a place in one of the speedboats.

The _Queen_ puffed majestically at her pier and Capt. Billy Tucker pulled twice on the whistle cord. Two long, mellow blasts echoed over the lake.

The _Queen_ would leave for Rolfe in five minutes.

"Looks like we'll have to take the _Queen_ if we want to get home in any reasonable time," said Margaret.

Tom looked at the throngs waiting for the boats.

"You're right," he agreed. "We won't be able to get on one of the fast boats for at least two hours and I'm getting hungry. I saw mother putting some pie away in the ice box last night and there'll be plenty of cold milk at home."

"Don't," protested Helen, "I'm so hungry now I'm hollow."

"Then let's take the _Queen_," urged Margaret.

They bought their tickets and hurried onto the main deck of the old lake boat.

"It will be cooler on top," said Helen and they went up the broad stairs to the upper deck. Perched on this deck was the pilot house where Captain Billy ruled.

He saw them and motioned them to join him.

"Have a big celebration?" he asked when they entered the pilot house.

"Finest ever," said Margaret, "but we're ready to call it a day and start home."

"Better set down on those benches," said Captain Billy, motioning toward the leather-cushioned lockers which lined the walls of the pilot house.

The veteran lake skipper leaned out of the pilot house, watching the crowd on the beach. The electric lights flashed on as twilight draped its purple mantle over the lake and the whole scene was subdued. The cries from the bathers were not as sharp, the music from the midway seemed to have lost some of its sharpness and the whole crowd of holiday celebrators relaxed with the coming of night.

Captain Billy glanced at his watch.

"Two minutes," he said, half to himself as he reached for the whistle cord. Again the mellow whistle of the _Queen_ rang out and belated excursionists hastened aboard.

The ticket seller at the pier head sounded his final warning bell, and there was the last minute rush across the stubby gang plank. Captain Billy signalled the engine room, bells rang in the depths of the boat and the easy chouf-chouf of the twin stacks deepened as the engines took up their work and the _Queen_ backed slowly away from the pier.

Two men who had tarried at the midway too long ran down the pier and yelled at Captain Billy. The skipper picked up his megaphone.

"Sorry, too late," he shouted. "We'll be back in two hours."

"Gosh-dinged idiots," he grumbled to himself. "Here I wait as long as I can and then they expect me to put back in sh.o.r.e. Not me, by Joe, when I've got to make connections with one of them excursion trains."

"Have lots of business today?" asked Tom.

"Biggest day in the twenty odd years I've had the _Queen_ on the lake,"

he chuckled. "The old girl is about on her last legs but this season looks like the best of all. If the paved road goes through they'll all come in cars and the railroad and the _Queen_ will be out of luck."

"But you're not objecting to the paved road, are you?" asked Helen.

"Course not," he replied. "It's progress and you can't stop it."

The _Queen_, ablaze with lights, churned steadily up the lake and the electrics along the beach at Sandy Point faded into a string of dots.

Speed boats, showing their red and green riding lights, raced past in smothers of foam but the _Queen_ rocked only slightly as they pa.s.sed and continued steadily on her way.

The band on the after part of the top deck played slower, softer melodies and the whole scene was one of calm and quiet, a fitting end for a great celebration.

Of all the people on the _Queen_, only Captain Billy in the pilot house and the crew in the black depths of the engine room were alive to the dangers of the night. They knew how anything unusual and startling might cause a panic which would capsize the _Queen_ or how careless navigation on the part of Captain Billy might shove the _Queen_ onto one of the jagged ledges of rock which were hazards to navigation in certain parts of the lake. But the _Queen_ pa.s.sed safely through the rock-strewn sections of the lake and Captain Billy relaxed as the lights of Rolfe came into view.

The _Queen_ was less than half a mile from her pier when the unexpected happened. A speed boat, without lights, loomed out of the night.

Screams echoed from the lower deck. Before Captain Billy could twirl his wheel and shift the blunt nose of the _Queen_, the speed boat knifed into the bow of the old steamer.

There was the crash of splintering wood, and m.u.f.fled cries from the men and women in the smaller boat.

Captain Billy knew the danger even before the boats met. The crash of the collision was still in their ears when he called to Tom.

"Take the wheel," he cried, "and keep the _Queen_ headed for the beach.

Don't change the course."

Then he leaned over the speaking tube to the engine room.

"Captain Billy speaking," he shouted. "A speed boat just hit us. Full speed ahead until we ground on the sandy beach."

They could feel the _Queen_ trembling as the crowd on the lower deck rushed forward toward the scene of the accident.

"The fools, the fools," muttered Captain Billy as he ran from the pilot house.

The leader of the band ran forward.

"Get back and play," ordered the captain. "Play anything loud."

A deck hand, racing up from below, met Captain Billy at the head of the stairs.

"They knocked a hole clear through us," he gasped. "We're taking water fast."

"Shut up," snapped the captain. "Stay here and don't let anyone off the upper deck."

The young people in the pilot house saw Captain Billy rush down the stairs and they looked at one another in open amazement.

"He's every inch a skipper," said Tom as he clung to the wheel of the _Queen_.

"I hope he pulls us through," said Margaret, staring at the lights of Rolfe. A minute ago they had seemed so close; now they were so far away, the longest half mile any of them would ever know.

"He'll get us there if it is humanly possible," Helen said hopefully.

The crowd on the upper deck milled excitedly but the deck hand forced them back from the stairway and the steady playing of the band and continued forward movement of the _Queen_ seemed to allay their worst fears.

Sparks rolled from the twin funnels as the engines labored to the utmost but Tom, his hands on the sensitive wheel, knew that the speed was decreasing. The _Queen_ was harder to handle, the bow was settling lower in the water but less than a quarter of a mile remained. He reached up and pulled the whistle cord. Three short, sharp blasts shattered the night. Three more and then three more. It was the signal for help but he wondered how many would be in Rolfe to answer the call.

"How deep is the water from here in?" asked Helen.