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CHAPTER XII
THE STORM

I was greatly alarmed at Captain Hannock's order to Lowell to investigate the cause of the crash in the pantry. If discovered I knew my punishment would be severe. These three men were playing a desperate game, and there was no telling what they would do if cornered.

"Oh, it was only a few dishes in the closet," said Lowell, as he helped himself to more liquor.

"It gave me quite a shock," declared Crocker, and he, too, took another drink.

These remarks relieved me somewhat. Perhaps they would not search the pantry after all. But the next words of the captain caused a chill to run down my back.

"I've lived in this cabin going on sixteen years," he said, "and I never yet knew them dishes to jump themselves down. I'm going to see what it was. If it's a spy I'll string him up, mark my words!"

I was now flat on the pantry floor, and to move would cause quite a noise. What was I to do? It did not become necessary for me to decide the question. The elements did it for me.

For at that moment the schooner gave a fearful lurch, first to the weather side and then over, and an instant later there was a tremendous crash on the deck.

For a moment the three men stood as if paralyzed, then all of them made a bolt for the companionway.

"Something's gone by the board!" I heard the captain exclaim, and then all of them passed out of hearing.

As soon as they were gone I sprang to my feet, and passing out of the pantry, made my way after them to the deck. None of the men saw me, and I lost no time in going forward.

The storm was now upon us, and, as Tony Dibble had reported, it was a heavy one. The sky was one mass of black, angry clouds, and the wind blew a perfect gale.

The schooner pitched and tossed to such a degree that I had great difficulty in reaching the forward deck, where I presently saw my sailor friend hard at work clearing away the remains of the boom of the mainmast, which had swung around and snapped off.

"Hello, there you are," he sang out. "I was afraid you had gone overboard again."

"Not if I can help it," I replied. "That is, unless it becomes necessary."

"The old man's a fool," went on Dibble. "He has no business to sit in the cabin when there's a storm on. We might all go to the bottom."

"Will we weather it, do you think?"

"We can try," replied the old sailor, as cheerfully as he could.

Meanwhile Captain Hannock was shouting at the top of his voice. But the wind was so great that little could be heard, excepting such expressions as would have been better unuttered. He was now thoroughly awake to the danger that threatened us, and did all in his power to make up for the time he had lost.

Guided by the mate, the sailors were already taking in what little sail was still spread. In the wind this was no easy matter, and some of it was torn to shreds.

"This storm will cost the captain a neat penny," said Dibble, after the work was done.

"I don't know if it will or not," I replied. "He doesn't expect to lose anything on this trip."

"How can he help it?"

"He has a way. Maybe I'll tell you when we are alone."

"Thought the old man acted awfully careless," said Dibble, as he went off.

Instead of abating, the storm increased in violence, until I could hardly keep my feet upon the deck. At first I thought of retiring to the forecastle, but concluded that if anything happened I would rather be on deck, and so remained, and held on tightly to the ropes.

Fortunately a few familiar lights from the shore were still to be seen, or otherwise we would have been driven upon the rocks. But the wheelman kept us in deep water, and just enough sail was carried to keep the schooner head up.

The storm kept on nearly the entire night, and no one on board the Spitfire had a moment's sleep. I remained on deck the entire time, and kept close to Dibble and the other sailors.

I noticed that Crocker had little to say, and concluded that he was thinking over the scheme by which he was to make a thousand dollars. I thought it rather strange that Captain Hannock and Lowell had taken such a man into their confidence, but made up my mind that it was necessary in order to do what they desired.

As I stood upon the bow of the vessel a sudden flash of light revealed to me a sight that made my heart give a bound. It was a wreck not a hundred feet ahead of us, and driving onward at a furious rate!

For an instant I was spellbound; then I gave a wild cry that brought all the sailors to my side.

"What is it?" asked Dibble anxiously. "Are you hurt?"

"No, no. Didn't you see the wreck ahead?"

"No."

"Thought I saw something," said one of the others. "But I wasn't sure."

"What kind of a wreck?" asked the mate peering forward.

I pointed in the direction in which it had disappeared.

"A small sailboat of some kind," I returned. "I didn't see – Look! Look there!"

As I spoke there was another flash of light. For an instant all hands beheld a small sloop with a broken mast, kiting before the wind.

"You're right," cried Dibble. "Wonder if there is any one on board?"

"Can't we hail her?" I asked.

"We might try, although the wind is pretty strong."

Both of us cried at the same time, and then the mate joined in.

"Boat ahoy!"

For a moment there was no reply, and we repeated the cry.

And then came the faint answer:

"Help! Where are you? Help!"

It was a man's voice, and by its sound we could tell that he was well-nigh exhausted.

"What can we do for him?" I asked anxiously.

"We'll be on him in a moment," said Dibble. "Let's throw him a rope or two."

In an instant he had a stout rope ready. Seeing what he intended to do I also procured a rope.

During this time the mate went to the man at the wheel, and told him to steer a little to the starboard. This brought the schooner somewhat around, and gave us a chance to take in the man, should he be fortunate enough to grasp one or the other of the ropes.

"I'm afraid we'll lose him in the darkness," said Dibble.

"Let us do all we can," I said, thinking how I would feel if placed in a position similar to that occupied by the man on the wreck.

"Help! Help!" repeated the unfortunate, in lower tones.

"He's almost done for," said the old sailor, with a shake of his head.

"There he is!" I cried, as another flash of light came.

"Sure enough. Stand to catch the rope!"

"Stand to catch the rope!" I repeated.

"I will! Throw it to me!" came back the cry.

In an instant both of us threw our ropes. By an unfortunate twist Dibble's went spinning from his hands, and, before he could catch it, went over the side.

"My rope's gone!" he groaned. "Yours must do the work, boy, or the man will be lost!"

I made no reply. I had felt the rope in my hands growing tighter.

"I have the rope!" came the cry. "Pull in!"

"He's got it!" I repeated. "Help me land him."

Dibble readily complied; and slowly but surely we drew in on the rope.

"Hurry up!" called the man. "I can't hold on much longer!"

"You'll be all right in a minute!" I called back. "Don't let go."

Dibble took hold of the rope with me, and held it up so that the man might have no difficulty in climbing over the rail.

Presently the unfortunate individual came in sight. I could see that he was completely exhausted.

"Give me your hand," I said to him and leaned far over the side to reach it.

With one remaining effort he threw up his arm, at the same time letting the rope slip from his grasp.

I caught his hand and held on to it with all my power. The man's weight was a tremendous strain on my muscles, but fortunately they stood the test, and then I began to drag him over the rail.

It was no easy task. The schooner having lost part of her headway, tossed and pitched dreadfully, and once the water poured over me in a perfect deluge.

But I had made up my mind to save the man, and I did not give up. I braced myself against the rail, and then Dibble gave me his hand; and a moment later the unfortunate was safe upon the deck.

"Thank God, I'm saved!" he murmured, and then he sank back unconscious.

By this time Captain Hannock had come forward to see what had taken place.

"Humph! only another mouth to feed!" he ejaculated. "Who saved him? Did you, Dibble?"

"I tried to, but Foster was the one to do it, brave lad that he is!" replied the old sailor.

"Foster seems to carry himself high!" sneered the captain. "Well, take him to the forecastle, some of you, and let him get over it. We'll carry him to New Bedford, providing he pays for his passage."

I was utterly disgusted with Captain Hannock's brutal words, but came to the conclusion that they were due in great part to the liquor he had drunk. I helped Dibble carry the rescued man to the forecastle, and here the old sailor and myself did all in our power to bring him to his senses.

It was quite a job; but finally it was accomplished, and the man sat up.

"Where am I?" he asked, in a dazed manner.

"Safe on board the Spitfire," I replied.

"And the Dora?"

"The Dora?" asked Dibble.

"Yes; my boat."

"Gone to the bottom of the Sound," said the old sailor. "I saw her founder just as you sprang for the rope."

"You did? Well, let her go. She wasn't worth much. I'm glad I'm safe. Phew! but wasn't it an awful storm?"

"Yes, indeed," said I.

The man wanted to know how we had come to see him, and all particulars, and we told him.

He was a tall and fine-looking gentleman, about forty years of age. He gave his name as Oscar Ranson, and said he was a lawyer in New York.

"I have been spending a few weeks at Port Jefferson on Long Island, and yesterday set out for a two days' cruise up the shore," he explained. "But I've had enough of it," he added with a shudder.

We made Mr. Ranson as comfortable as possible, and, while he was sipping a cup of hot coffee, he asked me about myself, saying that I didn't look much like a sailor.

And then I told him my story. Of course he was surprised.

"I wouldn't have believed it possible!" he exclaimed. "But you have done me a good turn, and now I'll do as much for you."

"Do you know Mr. Ira Mason, a lawyer?" I asked.

"Quite well."

"He is a friend of mine. He has an office in the same building with my uncle."

"Yes? What is your uncle's name?"

"Mr. Felix Stillwell."

At the mention of my uncle's name, Mr. Oscar Ranson jumped to his feet.

CHAPTER XIII
A NEW FRIEND

"Felix Stillwell your uncle!" exclaimed Mr. Oscar Ranson, as he stepped up to me.

I was amazed at his reception of the news.

"Yes, sir," I replied.

"I know him quite well," went on Mr. Ranson slowly.

"You do?"

"Yes; in fact I have had some dealings with him, but – but – "

And here the gentleman hesitated.

"But what, sir?"

"Well, I don't know as I ought to tell," was the reply. "You just saved my life, and I don't want to hurt your feelings."

These words puzzled me not a little, and I said so.

"Well, the fact is, your uncle and I could never agree on some business matters. I did not think his actions were right, and I told him so, and we had quite a quarrel. But of course this has nothing to do with you."

"It will not have," I returned. "My uncle has not treated me fairly, and we parted on bad terms, so I do not care what opinion you have of him."

"Indeed!"

"Yes, sir. I used to live with my uncle."

"Are your parents living?"

"No, sir; they were killed in a railroad accident in England, and my uncle became my guardian."

At this Mr. Ranson was quite interested. He asked me several questions; and I ended up by telling him my whole story, even to the missing money.

"It's too bad!" he exclaimed, when I had finished. "I can well understand how a man of Mr. Stillwell's manner would act under such circumstances. He is a very unreasonable man."

"I suppose I made a mistake in running away," I said.

"It would have been better to have faced the music. But you had no one to advise you, and did not know but that you would be sent to jail without a fair trial, I suppose."

"What would you advise me to do?"

"Go back and stand trial. You have done me a good turn, and I will stand by you."

Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Crocker, who said Captain Hannock wanted to know if the rescued man could come to the cabin. Mr. Ranson rose at once.

"You'll find the captain a very mean man," I whispered, as he prepared to leave. "When we get a chance I wish to tell you something very important about him."

"All right: I'll remember."

Mr. Ranson left the forecastle. For a moment I was alone; then Lowell came in.

"Well, what are you doing now?" he asked savagely.

"Nothing," I replied, as calmly as I could.

"Think you're going to have a picnic of it, I suppose?" he sneered.

"I'll take things as they come," was my quiet reply.

"Well, just get on deck and help clear things up," he said. "The storm is over."

I obeyed his orders. I found the sky was now almost clear of clouds, and the moon was just sinking in the horizon. Dibble and the rest were hard at work mending the broken boom, and I turned in with a will.

It took nearly an hour to repair the damage that had been done through the captain's carelessness. When at last we had finished I followed Dibble below, and we retired.

I did not sleep well during that night on board the Spitfire. The place was strange to me, and, besides, my mind was busy with the many things that had happened to me since I had left my uncle's home.

I could not help but wonder what my uncle had done after I escaped him. Had he put the police upon my track? It was more than likely. He was not the man to let six thousand dollars slip through his hands without making a great effort to get it back.

Then I wondered, too, if my Cousin Gus had really taken the sum. I knew Gus to be a mean fellow but had not dreamed that he would turn thief. Had not the evidence been so strong against him, I would have felt sure an outside party had done the deed.

For the present I felt myself perfectly safe from capture. It was not likely the police had traced me to Brooklyn, and if so, seen me taken on board the Spitfire, which Lowell must have done as slyly as possible.

I did not much like the idea of giving myself up after having once taken the trouble to run away, but finally concluded to be guided by my newly-found friend's advice, satisfied that if he would stand by me I would be safe.

"Wake up there, Foster!"

It was Dibble arousing me. I was not long in obeying his summons. I hopped out of my bunk and rubbed my eyes.

"Time to get on deck, unless you want Lowell after you with the rope's end again."

"I don't think Lowell will trouble me much again," I replied, as I began to dress. "If he does I'll do what I can to defend myself."

"I like your grit. It does my heart good to see a boy stand up to a man like him."

"At the bottom I think he is a coward," I said. "Most all brutes are."

When I came on deck the sun was shining brightly. Captain Hannock was up, and he appeared quite a different man from what he had been the day before. His face was still flushed from the liquor he had taken, but he was sober, and, consequently, much milder in his speech.

"Take him around, Dibble," he said to the old sailor, "and show him the ropes. I guess you've got the making of a good sailor in you if you only set your mind down to learn," he continued to me.

"I'm willing to work, but I expect pay for it," was my reply.

He frowned slightly.

"We'll talk about that another time, when I've seen what you're worth, Foster," he returned, and walked aft.

Dibble took me in hand at once. He was a pleasant man to explain things, and he said I learned rapidly. By noon I knew many of the more important parts of a ship, and how the sails were raised and lowered; and as the weather was fine and we were bowling merrily along, I fancied that a life on the rolling deep wasn't half so bad after all.

As we walked around I cast many a glance about for Mr. Ranson, but could see nothing of him. Finally I asked Phil Jones concerning him, and was told he was not well and was resting in the cabin.

During my conversation with the gentleman I had made up my mind to tell him what I knew of Captain Hannock's plot. I felt sure that he would know exactly what to do. Moreover, being a lawyer, he could perhaps take steps to nip the thing in the bud.

Dinner on board the Spitfire was not an elaborate affair. The variety of food was not extensive, and the cook was not highly experienced in the culinary art. Nevertheless, I was hungry, and did full justice to what was placed before me.

"It's good, hearty stuff," said Dibble, "and that and the sea air will make you strong – not but what you're pretty strong already."

Late in the afternoon Mr. Ranson came on deck. He looked pale, and he had his head bound up in a handkerchief, which, however, he presently took off.

It was some little time before I had a chance to speak to him. But finally he saw me and came forward.

"Why didn't you come and see me?" he asked, after I had asked him how he felt, and was told that he was fast recovering.

"Foremast hands are not allowed in the cabin," I laughed. "We are expected to stay where we belong."

"I found the captain a very disagreeable man last night," he went on. "But this morning he was much pleasanter."

"He is sober now."

"Yes, and that makes a great difference in any one."

"I have something of importance to tell you," I said in a lower tone.

"So you said last night. What is it?"

"It concerns the captain and this vessel. I don't want any one to overhear it," I returned.

"Then let us go still further forward. If any one comes near we can drop the subject and pretend to talk about the ship's course."

I thought this advice good, and we acted on it at once.

CHAPTER XIV
SOME PLAIN FACTS

My story took some time to tell. Once Lowell came near us, but he only heard Mr. Ranson say that the schooner was making first-class headway, and taking no interest in this he walked away.

"You are sure of all this?" asked the lawyer, after I had finished my narrative.

"Yes, sir; every word of it."

"Because it is a serious charge," he continued. "In olden times they would have hung a man for such an offense, and they might do so even now if any lives were lost through the going down of the ship."

"I don't know how he intends to sink the Spitfire. I suppose he can set fire to her or else bore holes in the bottom."

"It is a most atrocious plot. I am glad he intends to do nothing until after he has left the Down East coast. Wherever he makes a landing, at New Bedford or otherwise, I can have him stopped. But the evidence must be strong against him. Otherwise we will get ourselves into great trouble."

This was a new idea. I thought for a moment.

"If you only had some one to testify to your story," went on Mr. Ranson. "Of course I believe you, but we want evidence for the court."

"Wouldn't the evidence of a bogus cargo be enough?" I asked suddenly.

"True, it would. I never thought of that. But are you sure the cargo is bogus?"

"I think it is. One thing I know: it is insured for considerably more than its value."

"What does it consist of?"

"I don't know. I think I could find out from Dibble."

"The sailor who helped to save me?"

"Yes, sir."

"It would be a good plan. But he may suspect you if he is in the plot."

"I am satisfied Dibble has nothing to do with it," was my ready answer. "I was going to tell him what I have told you."

"Oh, well, then it is all right. And I don't know but that it would be better to have help in case Captain Hannock attempts to do anything before we land."

"Just what I thought."

"Where is this Dibble?"

"He has just gone below. I will call him."

"Don't do that; it might excite suspicion. These men are undoubtedly on the watch. Talk to him in the forecastle. I will wait here until you return."

I agreed; and left at once. I found the old sailor sitting on a chest, mending some clothing.

"Say, Dibble, what kind of a cargo have we on board?" I asked.

He looked at me rather curiously.

"What makes you ask that question?"

"Because I wanted to know."

"Well," he replied slowly, "we're supposed to have fine furniture and crockery ware on board; but it's so packed up I didn't see any of it."

"Did you help load?"

"Oh, no; the longshoremen did everything. Kind of queer, too, for Captain Hannock generally gets all the work out of his men that he can."

"Then you didn't see any of the furniture or the crockery?"

"No. But what difference does it make? We sail just as well as if we had lumber or steam engines on board."

"It makes a great difference. Let me tell you something."

And taking a seat close beside him, I whispered the story I had told to Mr. Ranson.

"Phew! Smash the anchor, but that's a great scheme!" he exclaimed. "I've heard of such things being done, but never thought the captain was such a great rascal!"

"We're going to stop the game. Do you know if we could get a look at any part of the cargo?"

Tony Dibble thought for a moment.

"Just the thing!" he cried. "Come with me."

He rose and led the way to the end of the forecastle. Here there was a small door leading to a pantry.

"There is a trap-door in that pantry," explained the old sailor. "The old man doesn't know of it. Some of the boys made it on the last trip, when we were carrying a lot of provisions, and the captain tried to cut down the rations. He saved one way but lost a good deal the other;" and the old sailor laughed at the memory of the affair.

It was an easy matter to raise the trap-door. The distance to the cargo stowed below was but a few feet, and I dropped down.

"Shall I go with you or stand guard?" asked Dibble.

"Better stand guard," I replied. "If any one comes get them out of the forecastle the best way you can. Have you a chisel or something like it?"

"Here is one, and a wooden mallet, too." He brought the articles forward. "Be careful how you make a noise."

"I will," was my reply. "But I haven't any light."

"Here's a bit of candle. Be careful and don't set anything afire."

Dibble handed the candle to me, and then closed the trap.

By the feeble rays of the light I crawled backward for quite a distance. Finally I came to a large packing-case marked:

S. & Co. Crockery. B132. Handle with Care.

The top lid of the case was well nailed on. But after a quarter of an hour's work I succeeded in loosening one half of it, and pulled it off.

There was a quantity of straw next to the lid. I scraped it aside, and then took a look at what was below.

The packing-case was filled with nothing but common stones.

I had expected something of the kind, so I was not greatly astonished when I beheld the bogus crockery that filled the packing-case. I picked up several of the stones to make sure that I was not mistaken, and then restored them to their place, put the straw over the top, and nailed on the cover.

At first I thought to leave the place at once. But so far I had not been disturbed, and so I made up my mind to continue the investigation, since it was once begun.

I took up my candle, and was not long in hunting up another packing-case. This was marked Furniture. I took off some of the boards, and soon brought to light a quantity of pretty fair kindling wood!

As soon as I had made sure of what the packing-case contained, I restored the wood to its original place and then began to nail down the cover, as I had done on the crockery case. I had just driven one of the nails home when a slight noise disturbed me.

Without any hesitation I ceased my labors and blew out the light. I was none too soon, for an instant later I heard Lowell's voice.

"I was almost certain I heard some one down here!" he exclaimed, as he came forward.

"Maybe it was rats," suggested another voice, which it was easy to recognize as belonging to Captain Hannock.

"I don't think so. We have nothing to attract them this trip."

"If I find any of the men down here I'll flog them," was the captain's savage comment; and it was easy to see that he meant what he said.

"It would go rough with us if any of them should discover what we were carrying," went on Lowell. "Paving stones and kindling wood!"

"Hush! Some one might hear you!"

The two men came close to where I was crouching. Indeed Lowell's foot came within a few inches of my arm, and for an instant I did not see how I could avoid being discovered. Then they passed on.

"Must have been mistaken, Lowell," said the captain. "Guess you're getting nervous."

And he gave a low laugh.

"Better be too careful than not careful enough," returned the boatswain, slightly disturbed at the slur. "I don't want to get caught at this job."

"Neither do I."

"They can send us to prison for it."

"So they can – if they catch us. But I don't intend they shall."

The two men carried a lantern, and they swung it over their heads, casting the rays as far as possible about them.

I was in a direct line of light, and for a second the captain caught sight of the top of my head as I moved behind the case.

"Ha! what's that?" he cried. "There's something behind the box!"

"Where?" asked Lowell.

"There," and Captain Hannock pointed in my direction.

I gave myself up for lost, and wondered what I should do when discovered.