The Rover Boys in Southern Waters Part 20

After that an all-around discussion ensued, lasting quarter of an hour. Led by the boys the pa.s.sengers were very outspoken, and as a consequence the next meal was fairly good, although not exactly first-cla.s.s.

"We tuned him up, that's certain," said Sam.

"I am glad you did," said a pa.s.senger sitting opposite. "I was afraid I should be starved to death before we reached land."

"He'll have it in for us," said Fred. "Every time he looks at me he glares like a wild beast."

"We'll keep our eyes open," said d.i.c.k. "But I don't think he'll do anything. He knows we were in the right. I reckon he's more of a talker than anything else," and in this surmise the eldest Rover was correct.

During the afternoon a heavy mist swept over the gulf and the speed of the _Mascotte_ had to be slackened. Two men were placed on watch besides the pilot, but they could see little.

"This is going to delay us still more," said Tom, and he was right.

About six o'clock they came near crashing into another steamboat, and after that the forward movement was almost checked entirely.

All on board felt it would be a night of more or less peril, and consequently the trouble over the meals was forgotten. The captain paced the deck nervously, and the pilot and other watchers strained their eyes to pierce the gloom.

"I must say, I don't feel much like turning in," remarked Sam. "I can't tell why it is, either."

"I feel myself as if something unusual was in the air," answered Tom.

"Boys," said d.i.c.k to his brothers, "if anything should happen, stick together."

"To be sure," came from Sam and Tom.

"But do you think something will really happen?" added the youngest Rover.

"I don't know what to think. I know this steamer is worse than an old tub, and I know that the mist is getting so thick you can cut it with a knife."

"I wish we were on sh.o.r.e again, d.i.c.k."

"So do I."

"Py chiminatics!" came from Hans. "Owit on der deck you can't see your face before your nose alretty!"

"Of course you know what this means, Hans," answered Tom, who was bound to have a little fun in spite of the seriousness of the situation.

"Vot does dot mean?"

"You know they have great earthquakes down here, and great volcanoes."

"Vell, vot of dot?"

"When it gets so misty as this then look out for a fearful earthquake and a great volcanic eruption."

"You ton't tole me!" gasped the German youth. "Say, I ton't vont no earthkvakes, not much I ton't!"

"Maybe it won't do much harm--only sink the ship," put in Sam, taking his cue from Tom.

"Sink der ship? Den ve peen all drowned, ain't it? Say, Sam, how kvick you d.i.n.k dem earthkvakes come, hey?"

"Oh, some time to-night," answered the youngest Rover.

"Mine cracious! Ve peen all killed asleep!" groaned Hans. "Say, I d.i.n.k I ton't go py der ped, not me!" he added, earnestly.

At that moment came a cry from the deck. It was followed by a thump and a crash that threw all of the boys flat on the floor of the cabin of the steamer.

CHAPTER XV

THE CASTAWAYS OF THE GULF

"It vos der earthkvake!" yelled Hans, as he scrambled to his feet.

"Der oceans vos all busted up alretty! Safe me!" And he ran for the cabin doorway.

"We must have struck something in the fog!" cried d.i.c.k, as he, too, arose. "Oh!"

Another crash had come, heavier than the first, and the _Mascotte_ careened far over to port. Then came wild screams from the deck, followed by orders delivered in rapid succession. All in a moment the pa.s.sengers were in a panic, asking what had been struck and if the steamer was going down.

The Rovers and their friends tried to make their way on deck, but another shock threw Fred and Songbird back into the cabin and partly stunned them. Then Harold Bird ran to his stateroom, to get a pocketbook containing his money.

Out on the deck all was misty, the lights gleaming faintly through the darkness. To one side loomed up another steamer, of the "tramp"

variety, heavily laden with a miscellaneous cargo from Central American ports.

"The _Mascotte_ is going down!" was the cry, as the steamer gave a suspicious lurch. Then came another crash, and before he knew it d.i.c.k Rover went spinning over the side, into the dark and misty waters of the gulf!

It was certainly a time of extreme peril, and had not poor d.i.c.k kept his wits about him he must surely have been drowned. Down he went over his head and it was fully quarter of a minute before he came to the surface once more, spluttering and clashing the water from his eyes. He looked around, felt something hard hit him, and then went under once more.

He knew he was near the bottom of some ship and held his breath as long as possible. When he again arose it was to gasp for air. Now he was free of the ship, and the rolling waters of the Gulf of Mexico lay all around him.

His first impulse was to cry out for help, and again and again he raised his voice. But the confusion on board the _Mascotte_ and the other steamer was so great that n.o.body heard him, or, at least, paid any attention.

d.i.c.k strained his eyes and could make out the steamer lights dimly.

He was about to yell again, when something floated near and struck him down once again. But as he came up he caught at the object and held fast to it. It was a large crate, empty, and with considerable difficulty he climbed on top.

"This is better than nothing," he thought. And then, catching his breath, he set up a long and l.u.s.ty cry, in the meantime watching with a sinking heart the lights of both steamers as they faded from view.

A quarter of an hour pa.s.sed--it seemed much longer to poor d.i.c.k,--and the lights disappeared entirely. His heart sank like lead in his bosom.

"They won't come back for me now," he reasoned. "Perhaps the steamboat is sinking and the others have enough to do to think of saving themselves."

The crate d.i.c.k was upon was not extra large, and it merely allowed him to keep his head and shoulders out of water. Fortunately the night was not cold, so he suffered little from his involuntary bath.

But he realized the seriousness of his situation and was correspondingly sober.

"I must be a good way from land," he reasoned. "I'll have my own troubles saving myself, even if the mist clears away."

Another quarter of an hour went by and then d.i.c.k thought he heard voices. He strained his ears.