The Boy Scouts' Mountain Camp Part 7

By this he judged that her navigators meant to head down the Long Island sh.o.r.e toward New York.

The sunrise was red and angry. Hiram, with his knowledge of scout-lore, knew that this presaged bad weather. But the crew of the sloop did not seem to notice it. After a while they began to make preparations to hoist sail, as the breeze was freshening.

"Take those kids below," ordered Stonington Hunt suddenly. Under the escort of Jim Dale, who had relinquished the wheel to Freeman Hunt and Pete b.u.mpus, the lads--Tubby being carried--were presently installed in a small, dark cabin in the stern of the sloop. This done, the companionway door was closed, and they heard a key grate in a lock. They were prisoners, then, at sea, on this mysterious sloop?

"What next?" groaned Hiram to himself, sinking down on a locker.

"Why, I guess the next thing to do is for me to come to life, my valiant downeaster," cried Tubby, springing erect from the corner into which he had been thrown. The apparently badly wounded lad seemed as active and chipper as ever.

CHAPTER VII.

ADRIFT IN THE STORM.

At the same instant the sloop staggered and heeled over, sending Hiram half across the dingy cabin. He caught at a stanchion and saved himself.

Then he turned his amazed gaze afresh on Tubby. The stout youth stood by the companion stairs, regarding him with a grin. Presently he actually began to hum:

"A life on the ocean wave!

A home on the rolling deep!

"Yo ho, my hearties," he added, with a nautical twitch at his breeches, "we're going to have a rough day of it."

As if in answer, the sloop heeled over to another puff. A tin dish, dislodged from the rusty stove, went clattering across the inclined cabin floor. But still Hiram stood gaping vacantly at Tubby.

"Well, what's the matter?" inquired that individual cheerfully, "have you lost that voice of yours?"

"No, b-b-b-but I thought you were badly wounded!" Hiram managed to sputter.

"So I was, but in reverse English only," said Tubby cheerfully; "the bullet just nicked me and knocked the breath out of me for a minute. When I came to, I saw that the best thing I could do was to act like Br'er Rabbit and lay low."

Hiram looked his admiration.

"Wa-al," he drawled, dropping, as he seldom did even in emotional moments, into his New England dialect, "ef you ain't ther beatingist!

"But, say," he added quickly, "what about that red stain on your shirt?

Look, it's all over the front of your uniform."

"Jiggeree, so it is. I guess that fountain pen of mine must have been busted cold by that bullet. I had it filled with red ink, because I'd been helping Rob fill out some reports to mail to Scout headquarters. Ho!

ho!" the fat boy broke into open mirth, "it certainly does look as if some one had tapped my claret. Yo-ho! that was a corker!"

The sloop lurched and dipped deeper than ever. They could see the green water obscure the port hole for an instant.

"That sea's getting up right along," said Tubby presently, as he unbound Hiram's hands. "Say, Hiram," he added anxiously, "you don't get seasick easily, do you?"

"N-n-n-no, that is, I don't think so," sputtered Hiram rather dubiously.

"Well, don't, I beg from my heart! Don't get seasick till we get on land again."

"I'll try not to," said the downeast boy seriously, ignoring the fine "bull" which Tubby's remark contained.

"Reminds me," said Tubby presently, "of what the sea captain said to the nervous lady. She went up to him and told him that her husband was scared of getting seasick. 'My husband's dreadfully liable to seasickness, captain,' she said. 'What must I tell him to do if he feels it coming on?' 'You needn't tell him anything, ma'am,' said the captain; 'no need to tell him what to do--he'll do it.'"

But somehow this bit of humor did not bring even a wan smile to Hiram, willing as he usually was to laugh at Tubby's whimsical jokes. Instead, he turned a pale face on his companion.

"I--I--do feel pretty bad, for a fact!" he moaned.

"Oh, Jiminy Crickets!" wailed Tubby, "he's going to be seasick!"

Hiram, with a ghastly face of a greenish-yellow hue, sank down on one of the lockers, resigning himself to his fate. The sloop began to plunge and tumble along in a more lively fashion than ever. Overhead Tubby could hear the trample of feet, as her crew ran about trying to weather the blow.

Suddenly, above the howling of the wind, Tubby heard a sharp click at the companionway door. The next instant the companionway slide was shoved back and a gust of fresh, salt-laden air blew into the close cabin.

Stonington Hunt's form was on the stairway the next moment, and Tubby, with a quick dive, threw himself on the floor in a corner, carrying out once more his role of the badly wounded scout.

Lying there, and breathing in a quick, distressed way, Tubby, out of the corner of his eye, watched the man as he moved about. Hunt's first idea was evidently to rouse Hiram. Perhaps he needed him to help in navigating the storm-buffeted craft. But he soon gave up the task of instilling the seasick lad with ambition or life. Then came Tubby's turn, but after bending over the fat boy for an instant, Hunt muttered:

"He's no good," and without offering to aid the supposedly injured boy, moved away. He ascended the steps and presently the companion slide banged to, and the padlock clicked once more.

Tubby arose, as soon as he was convinced the coast was clear, and, despairing of arousing Hiram, sat on a locker and began to think hard.

Rather bitterly he went over in his mind the circ.u.mstances leading to their present predicament. In the first place, he could not but own he had had no business to embark on such an enterprise at all without a bigger force. In the second place, if he had lived up to the Scouts'

motto of "Be Prepared," there was a strong possibility that they would not have been so disastrously precipitated through the roof of the lonely hut. However, before long, Tubby's naturally buoyant temperament a.s.serted itself. As became a boy who had won a first-cla.s.s scoutship, he did not waste any further time on vain regrets. Instead of crying over spilled milk, he began to figure on finding a way out of their predicament.

Casting his eyes about the cabin, he suddenly became aware of a small door in the bulkhead at the forward end of it. Curious by nature, Tubby opened it, and peered into a dark, cavernous s.p.a.ce. A strong odor of gasoline saluted his nostrils, and presently--his eyes becoming used to the light--he could make out the occasional glint of metal. In a flash he realized that this was the engine-room of the sloop, and housed her auxiliary motor.

A b.u.t.ton-switch being made out by the boy at this moment, he turned it.

Instantly two incandescent lights shone out, illuminating the place. By their light Tubby made out another door beyond the motor. Determined to investigate the sloop thoroughly--come what might--he thrust it open, and found himself in what seemed to be the hold. But it was too dark to perceive much. Besides, the sloop was pitching and rolling so terribly that the lad had all he could do to hold on.

Returning to the engine-room, he almost stumbled across an electric torch secured to a bracket on the bulkhead. It was evidently used for examining the motor without exposing an open light to the fumes of the gasoline.

Armed with this, Tubby once more investigated the hold. It was a capacious place. Stanchions, like a forest of bare trees, supported the deck above. So far as the boy could make out, the place was empty. Far forward was a ladder leading up to a hatchway. Tubby, following out his naturally inquiring bent of mind, was about to examine this, when his heart gave a great bound and then stood still.

He had not thought to cast a glance behind him in his eagerness to examine the hold.

This had proved to be a fatal bit of oversight on his part, for Stonington Hunt and his son, descending to the cabin for some purpose, had observed his absence. A brief investigation showed them the open door into the engine-room and thence they had glimpsed the flash of Tubby's torch.

The boy turned, warned by some instinct, just as they tiptoed up behind him. Freeman Hunt, with a grin on his face, rushed straight at the Boy Scout. But Tubby was prepared this time, at any rate. He dashed the torch, end down, on the floor of the hold, extinguishing it instantly. At almost the same instant, he rushed straight at the place where he had last seen Freeman Hunt.

To his huge satisfaction, he felt the other go down in a sprawling heap under his onrush. As he fell, Freeman gave a shout of:

"He ain't wounded at all, dad! He was fooling us!"

"Yes, the brat! He was!" shouted Stonington Hunt, blundering about in the black hold and striving to keep his footing on the pitching, heaving floor.

Tubby, guided by instinct, dashed forward toward the spot, as nearly as he could judge its location, where he had noticed the ladder. He found it, and had placed his foot on the bottom rung, when there was a sudden shock.

The motion of the sloop seemed to cease, as if by magic. Tubby felt himself hurled forward into darkness by the shock. His head crashed against something, and a world of brilliant constellations swam in a glittering array before his eyes. Then something in his head seemed to give way with a snap, and young Hopkins knew no more.