The Iron Boys on the Ore Boats Part 27

Well, that's where I live when I'm not steamboating. There she comes."

Through the moonlight Steve saw a woman running down to the edge of the water.

"How are you, John?" called her pleasant voice through a megaphone.

"I'm well; how are the folks?"

"They're all well."

"Any news?"

"Nothing except that Betty has six pretty white chickens and she's terribly cross."

"Put her in the soup," suggested the captain.

Just then a little white-robed figure appeared at an upper window of the captain's home. In her hand the little one also held a megaphone. It was the captain's twelve-year-old daughter, Marie, the apple of his eye.

"H-e-l-l-o P-Pa-pa-a-a," came the greeting in a childish treble.

"h.e.l.lo, Marie!" bellowed Bob Jarvis from the rail aft of the bridge.

"Who are you? I don't know your voice."

"I'm Bob Jarvis, but you don't know me."

"h.e.l.lo, Bob. Yes, I do. My papa wrote to me about you. Where's Steve?"

There was a laugh that rippled from one end of the deck to the other.

"Never mind him; he is steering the ship. When are you coming out with us? Come along and we'll have a lot of fun."

"I don't know. When Papa says I may. When may I come, Papa? And you haven't said a word to me yet. You'll be gone in a minute."

"How could I? You haven't given me a chance to get a word in edgeways.

Port your helm a little," he added, in a lower voice to Rush.

"Port a little," answered Steve.

"When, Papa?"

"Perhaps the next trip. I will send you a letter from down the line.

Jennie, can you go back with us if I stop for you on the up trip?"

"I'll see. If I can do so I'll run up the red flag on the staff. If you see that you may stop. If not, you will know we can't get away that trip. I've got to attend to my early canning, you know."

Captain Simms grumbled something outside the megaphone, that sounded something like, "Shoot the canning!"

"Good-bye," came two voices, sounding faint and far away on the soft night air, one being a woman's voice, the other the thin, childish treble of a little girl.

"Head on that bright light low down there," directed the skipper, with a last lingering look back toward his home. "That's the worst of this business. A fellow gets about a five-minute look at his home and family, once a month or so. I'd rather be sitting on my front porch to-night than steering a ship through this rocky river."

"Is that a light-house that I am steering for?"

"No; that's an inspector's cabin. Starboard some."

"Starboard some," repeated the helmsman.

"All ships have to report as they go by. You will hear him call when we get abreast. Those fellows never seem to sleep."

"It must be a lonely life for a man out there."

"It is, and----"

"Ship ahoy. What ship is that?" bellowed the inspector through his megaphone.

"'Richmond' from Duluth with ore."

"The what?"

"'Richmond'!" roared Bob from the lower deck.

"I don't catch it."

"Six o'clock," howled Jarvis with his hands to his mouth, at which there was a loud laugh from the ship's company.

"Steamer 'Richmond,'" shouted the captain. "Why don't you open your ears? Think we can stand here yelling like wild Indians all night?"

The inspector did not answer. From past experience he realized the futility of an argument with a lake captain.

"This is the most dangerous navigating of any place on the lakes, Rush,"

said the skipper. "The bottom of our ship is only three feet from the bottom of the cut at this minute. Swerving six feet either to the right or left out of our course would put us hard and fast on the rocks. We should block the channel besides running the risk of breaking the ship's back. Steady!"

"Steady, sir."

"Remember, I am talking to the rudder. I keep that rudder in my mind every second of the time. I can see its every movement. I don't know there is such a thing as a steering wheel when I'm navigating like this.

Port a little."

"Port a little, sir."

"Now head for that range light up on the hill there. This cut, known as Rock Cut, was built by the government at great expense. Hold your course as you are until you round the bend in the cut there, then head on a red light that you will see high up on the rocks. Get your funnel back there in range with the white light on the hill you see to the left. You will be exactly in the channel then. Keep in the middle. I have to go to my cabin for a moment. I think I can trust you. Remember, the channel is narrow and you must keep well within it."

"I will, sir."

Steve was left alone in the pilot-house. As he was steering by range guides alone, now, he did not have to watch the compa.s.s. All the windows of the pilot-house had been let down so that he had an un.o.bstructed view all around.

"I'm running the ship," breathed the lad. "I don't know who's taking the biggest chance, myself or the captain."

Though the Iron Boy felt the responsibility of his position, he could not help the little thrill of triumph that ran through him. He was far up in the air with no one save the watch down in the forepeak near him.

The night was bright and glorious, the most peaceful scene he had ever gazed upon. But Rush did not devote much thought to the peacefulness of his surroundings. His mind was too thoroughly centred on his work.