CHAPTER XII
ON THE MOTOR BOAT AGAIN
“The ship is on fire!”
“I wonder how that happened?”
“I bet that’s the work of Small!” cried Jack.
“More than likely—unless we set fire to something in the galley,” returned Fred.
“Maybe that loose gasoline caught,” said Ralph. “Quite a lot of it spilled out on the oil-room floor in the darkness.”
While the boys gazed at the flames on the Hildegarde they saw Ira Small rush to the stern. The next instant the lanky sailor was sliding down the cable.
“Quick! We ain’t got no time to spare!” gasped Ira Small, as he hauled himself up to the motor boat. “Pull in on the cable and then cut it. But don’t let the stuff on the line git away.”
All of the boys understood what was to be done, and Jack had already obtained a hatchet which was in one of the lockers of the motor boat. While Small, Gif and Spouter hauled in on the cable, Ralph and the others continued to unloosen the tarpaulin. Then the young commander of the Fancy leaped into the cockpit and examined the motor.
“Some water here, but still dry enough to run, I think,” he announced.
“Wait! We don’t want to start up until we’ve cut loose!” cried Fred.
“That’s it, Ralph. If you start up now we might bump into the schooner. She isn’t making much headway,” added Randy.
By this time those at the bow had hauled in five or six yards of the cable. Then the heavy line was held down on the bow and Jack gave it several vigorous blows with the hatchet. The last accomplished its purpose, and the line snapped, the forward end whizzing back to the Hildegarde.
“Now we can take the stuff aboard,” said Gif, and this was quickly accomplished.
Many of the stores were soaked, a fact which did not please any of them. But they were glad that they had the things. Otherwise it would have been folly to attempt to escape in the motor boat. For all they knew, it might take them several days to reach land.
In the meanwhile, the flames on the deck of the Hildegarde had mounted higher and higher, catching on a few of the tarred ratlines of the mainmast.
“Now hurry up an’ git that engine started!” cried Ira Small. “We want to git away while the goin’s good.”
A lantern was lit and in a few minutes Ralph and one or two of the others had the motor in working order. Then the battery was turned on, and in a second more the motor responded and a steady putt-putt greeted the boys’ ears, much to their delight.
“I’ll take the wheel!” cried Jack. “You see that the motor does its duty, Ralph.”
“All right. I think we’ll need some of that gasoline we brought along before a great while. You know, I said our supply was running low when we were captured.”
The Fancy was headed away from the schooner, and then, as near as he was able, Jack steered for where he supposed the far-distant coast might be located. In the meanwhile, the other lads and Ira Small rested.
“Gee, but that was some get-away!” panted Andy.
“I’ll tell the world!” came from Fred. “When I came down the cable I thought I would never reach the motor boat. Some strong pull to the ocean!”
“What can you tell us about that fire, Small?” demanded Gif.
At this question the lanky sailor chuckled hoarsely.
“Scart you, didn’t it? Well, I reckon it’s scarin’ those left aboard the schooner; and that’s jest what I want. They’ll be so int’rested fightin’ that fire, they won’t think nothin’ about chasin’ us.”
“Did you set the fire?” questioned Randy.
“I sure did, lad. But don’t git excited,” went on Ira Small. “It ain’t goin’ to do the old Hildegarde much harm. All I did was to spread some excelsior soaked in gasoline on the deck near one o’ the rails. They kin put the fire out easy enough. But they’ll have to work lively for a few minutes to do it.”
“Are you quite sure it won’t burn the ship so she’ll sink?” questioned Fred, anxiously.
“We wouldn’t want to leave those men to drown,” added Randy.
“No sech luck, lad. You can’t drown a rascal who’s meant to be hung. No, the fire’ll soon be out. You jest watch and see. But meanwhile, we want to git as fur away from the schooner as possible. Now those rascals have got an idee they kin hold you fur a ransom, they won’t let you escape if they kin help it.”
With the motor of the Fancy running fairly well, Gif and Spouter turned their attention to bailing the craft. While this was being done Fred and the twins stowed the food away in the cabin and saw to it that nothing might happen to their precious supply of water. Meanwhile, Ralph opened one of the cans of gasoline and emptied the contents into the supply tank of the motor boat.
“There! That will carry us quite a few miles,” he declared. “Of course, how many will depend on what kind of weather we strike and how the sea is running.”
“I guess we can be thankful it’s so warm,” said Jack, doing his best at the wheel to make the Fancy ride the waves without ducking those aboard. “If it was as cold down here as it is around Cape Cod, I think we’d all catch our death of cold.”
“It’s too bad we’re wet,” said Gif. “But I suppose we’ve got to make the best of that.”
They were soon out of sight of the schooner, save for the flames which showed them a small part of the deck. As Ira Small had said, the fire soon became lower and presently vanished completely.
“I guess it’s out,” said Fred, with a sigh.
“Yes; and I’m glad of it,” returned Randy.
“Gee, I’ll bet they were scared for a few minutes,” came from Andy.
“You can bet they are mighty mad at us,” was Spouter’s comment. “You can be sure they’ll lay the fire at our door. They’ll say we wanted to burn the ship and drown them.”
“I don’t think they’ll ever try and bring any o’ you fellows into court about it,” chuckled Ira Small. “You’ve got too good a case ag’in’ ’em.”
With the extinction of the blaze on the Hildegarde, the only light anywhere around the motor boat vanished and the Rover boys and the others found themselves plowing along slowly and uncertainly over the wide bosom of the Atlantic. Overhead there were drifting clouds, and only a few stars could be seen.
“P’int her a little more to starboard, lad,” advised Ira Small, as he joined Jack at the wheel. “I can’t give you the course direct, but I’ll do my best.”
“I suppose you’ve often steered by the stars,” returned the young major.
“Yes, I did when I was on the old Maria Deggett,” answered the lanky sailor. “I took three trips in that four-master, an’ we sailed pretty nigh to ev’ry spot on the globe. She was a fine ship, an’ Cap’n Deggett he was one fine man!”
“Why didn’t you remain on her?” questioned Ralph.
“She went ashore off the coast of Floridy in a hurricane. She was a total wreck, an’ that nigh broke ol’ Cap’n Deggett’s heart, an’ he never went to sea no more. That was the trip when I heard all about the thirteen rocks an’ the pirates’ hidden gold,” went on Ira Small, impressively.
“Do you really believe in that treasure?” questioned Fred, eagerly.
“Of course I do, lad! It’s there, an’ I know it! All I’ve got to do is to locate them thirteen rocks.”
“I’d like to hear your yarn about it some day—when we’re out of this trouble,” returned Fred.
On leaving the Hildegarde behind, the boys had only one regret, and that was that they had not recovered any of the things stolen from them.
“But never mind,” said Jack, in speaking of this. “If we ever get the chance, we’ll make Captain Gilsen and Ferguson pay up!”
“Yes, and pay dearly!” added Gif. “Every one of those fellows ought to be sent to prison.”
“Well, anyhow, we got our grub for nothing—not to mention the gasoline,” chuckled Andy. “It isn’t much, but it’s something.”
Now that much of the excitement attending the escape from the schooner had come to an end, the boys realized that they were both wet and sleepy. A small oil stove of which the cabin boasted was lit, and here one after another they made themselves as comfortable as possible. There chanced to be just one heavy raincoat aboard the craft, and this was passed out to be used by the one who was on duty at the wheel.
“I’ll take my trick at the wheel for a few hours,” announced Ira Small. “That’ll give you lads a chance to take a nap an’ dry yourselves. The motor boat ain’t a schooner, but I reckon I kin manage it.”
“All right,” answered Ralph, gratefully. “If anything goes wrong with the engine, just call me.”
The boys retired to the cabin and there made themselves as comfortable as the limited quarters permitted. They hung some of their clothing close to the oil stove and then, utterly worn out, sank down to rest wherever a place afforded.
Morning found them still on the bosom of the broad Atlantic with neither a sail nor land in sight. The sun peeped out from behind a thin bank of clouds, and by its rays they set their course due west.
“We’re bound to hit land sooner or later,” remarked Jack. “That is, if the good weather and the gasoline hold out.”
“How many miles can we travel with the gasoline we have on hand?” questioned Fred of Ralph.
“That’s a hard question to answer, Fred. You see, I’ve not been running the Fancy very long, and I don’t know what she can make in this sort of sea. You know it’s one thing to run in smooth water, and quite another in the swells of the ocean. We lose a lot of our headway every time the stern is lifted out of the water.”
“Well, let’s hope, if it doesn’t carry us to land, that it will at least carry us in the path of the ships sailing up and down the coast,” put in Spouter.
“We’ll run straight for the first good-sized steamer we see,” answered Ralph.
“Don’t run into any more rum-runners,” warned Andy, with a sickly grin. “We’ve had enough of that class of rascals.”
With the coming of daylight, the boys and the lanky sailor felt better. A pot of coffee was gotten ready on the oil stove and cups of this beverage passed around with some bread and biscuits served to make them still lighter hearted.
“I suppose we’ve got to be careful how we use up our grub and water,” warned Jack. “There is no telling how long it has got to last us. For all we know, we may be much farther from shore than we imagine.”
Slowly the morning wore away. About eleven o’clock Fred set up a shout.
“What is that smoke just ahead of us?” he queried.
“I don’t know,” answered Spouter. “Looks like some smoke on an island.”
“It’s a steamer!” came from Gif, a minute later. “A steamer! And she’s moving northward.”
“Let’s see if we can’t get close enough to hail her!” cried Jack, eagerly.
Ralph was willing, and soon had the Fancy running at her best rate of speed. Then he took the wheel from Gif, who was steering.
“Maybe I can manage her a little better,” he said. “You know, I’ve had more experience.”
“Go to it, Ralph,” answered Gif, readily. “I never was very much of a sailor.”
Then began a mad race in the direction of the distant steamer. Would they be able to get close enough to signal to those on board?