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Title: Ready About - or, Sailing the Boat
Author: Optic, Oliver
Language: English
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_The Boat-Builder Series._
I.
ALL ADRIFT;
THE GOLDWING CLUB.
II.
SNUG HARBOR;
THE CHAMPLAIN MECHANICS.
III.
SQUARE AND COMPASSES;
BUILDING THE HOUSE.
IV.
STEM TO STERN;
BUILDING THE BOAT.
V.
ALL TAUT;
RIGGING THE BOAT.
VI.
READY ABOUT;
SAILING THE BOAT.
[Illustration: DORY AND MR. JEPSON WATCH THE BURGLARS LANDING.]
_THE BOAT-BUILDER SERIES_
READY ABOUT
SAILING THE BOAT
BY
OLIVER OPTIC
AUTHOR OF "YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD" "THE GREAT WESTERN SERIES"
"THE ARMY AND NAVY SERIES" "THE WOODVILLE SERIES" "THE
STARRY-FLAG SERIES" "THE BOAT-CLUB STORIES" "THE ONWARD
AND UPWARD SERIES" "THE YACHT-CLUB SERIES" "THE
LAKE-SHORE SERIES" "THE RIVERDALE STORIES"
"ALL ADRIFT" "SNUG HARBOR" "SQUARE AND
COMPASSES" "STEM TO STERN" "ALL
TAUT" ETC. ETC.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS_
BOSTON
LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS
COPYRIGHT 1887
BY WILLIAM T. ADAMS
_All rights reserved_
READY ABOUT
TO
My Young Friend
OTHO WILLIAMS CUSHING
OF FORT TRUMBULL, NEW LONDON, CONN.
_THIS BOOK_
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
PREFACE.
"Ready About" is the sixth and last volume of "THE BOAT-BUILDER SERIES,"
which was begun six years ago. The only new characters presented in this
story are the members of "The Nautifelers Club," who are introduced to
exhibit the contrast between young men of high aims and correct
principles, and those who are inclined to live too fast, and have no
fixed ideas of duty to sustain and advance them in the battle of life.
But, even in this miserable club, there are two classes of members; for
one-half are reckless and worse than indifferent in the matter of right
living, while the other half are led to the very verge of the precipice
of crime by their unfortunate associations. The reform of the latter
interests the principal of the Beech Hill Industrial School, who does
his duty, as always, in the premises, with a very happy result.
More than its predecessors in the series since the first volume, this
book is a story of adventure. In this portion, its tendency is to
inculcate courage without rashness, and to show that a young man of high
principles is not necessarily a coward and a milksop.
As indicated in the sub-title, "Sailing the Boat" is one of the
principal features of the book. This is an art that cannot be mastered
by simply learning the theory. Nothing but abundant practice can make a
competent boatman. Fifty years ago, the writer, however, would have
deemed it very fortunate if he could have obtained from a book, even
such instruction as he has endeavored to impart. He has by no means
exhausted the subject, though whatever more is to be learned will almost
come of itself with experience. The author has learned in fifty years
that there is always something more to learn; and the handling of a
yacht has come to be almost "high art" in the amount of time, study, and
enthusiasm bestowed upon the subject in recent years.
As the writer closes his twelfth series of books for young people, he
cannot help thanking his numerous constituency in all parts of the
country for the abundant and generous favor received from them.
Thirty-three years have elapsed from the date of "The Boat Club," his
first juvenile; and the kindness of his friends has never failed him in
this period of a generation of the human race.
MINNEAPOLIS, MINN., July 15, 1887.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
MR. SPICKLES FROM THE METROPOLIS 13
CHAPTER II.
THE NAUTIFELERS CLUB ON THE LAKE 24
CHAPTER III.
A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION IN THE NIGHT 34
CHAPTER IV.
THE SCENE OF OPERATIONS 45
CHAPTER V.
ON THE TRACK OF THE BURGLARS 55
CHAPTER VI.
A VICTIM OF STRATEGY 66
CHAPTER VII.
THE EFFECTS OF THE EXPLOSION 76
CHAPTER VIII.
SOME DIFFERENCES OF OPINION 87
CHAPTER IX.
UNDER THE LEE OF GARDINER'S ISLAND 97
CHAPTER X.
A BATTLE WITH THE ELEMENTS 108
CHAPTER XI.
THE TURNING OF THE TABLES 118
CHAPTER XII.
DORY DORNWOOD RESORTS TO STRATEGY 129
CHAPTER XIII.
THE ARRIVAL OF MICHAEL ANGELO SPICKLES 139
CHAPTER XIV.
THE RESULT OF DORY'S STRATEGY 150
CHAPTER XV.
UNDER WAY, OR UNDER WEIGH 160
CHAPTER XVI.
ON BOARD OF THE LA MOTTE 171
CHAPTER XVII.
THE STANDING-RIGGING OF A SLOOP 181
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE RUNNING-RIGGING OF A SLOOP 193
CHAPTER XIX.
THE PLAN THAT WAS NOT SUCCESSFUL 204
CHAPTER XX.
MORE MEMBERS OF THE NAUTIFELERS CLUB 215
CHAPTER XXI.
THE GOLDWING ON THE STARBOARD TACK 225
CHAPTER XXII.
SOMETHING ABOUT STEERING A SAIL-BOAT 236
CHAPTER XXIII.
OPERATIONS IN THE HOLD OF THE LA MOTTE 247
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE DEFENDERS OF THE PIRATE-SCHOONER 257
CHAPTER XXV.
A SELFISH VIEW OF AN IMPORTANT QUESTION 267
CHAPTER XXVI.
"SEE, THE CONQUERING HERO COMES!" 278
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE GUESTS OF THE INSTITUTION 287
CHAPTER XXVIII.
STATIONS FOR GETTING UNDER WAY 297
CHAPTER XXIX.
ALL OF DORY'S CLASS BECOME SKIPPERS 308
CHAPTER XXX.
THE GOLDWING'S TRIP TO PLATTSBURG 318
READY ABOUT;
OR,
SAILING THE BOAT.
CHAPTER I.
MR. SPICKLES FROM THE METROPOLIS.
"I can't go on board now, Spickles," said Matt Randolph, in a very
decided tone, and with an expression on his manly face which indicated
that he did not wish to go, even if he could.
"What's the reason you can't?" demanded Spickles, evidently very much
dissatisfied with the decision of the other.
"Because I have something else to do," added Matt. "I have to attend to
my duties as closely here as though I were an officer in the navy, on
sea-duty."
"What's the use of being tied up as though you were a prisoner at Sing
Sing?" asked Spickles, his disgust apparent on his rather brutal face.
"Your father is as rich as mud, and there is no need of your being kept
in a strait-jacket."
"I am not kept in a strait-jacket," protested Matt, very warmly.
"I think you are," returned Spickles, with a curling sneer on his thick
lips. "When I saw you in New York a year ago, you told me what a big
thing Lake Champlain was."
"I still think it is the finest sheet of water in the world, and the
region around it is a perfect paradise."
"Paradise!" exclaimed the visitor from the metropolis. "You said there
was lots of fun to be had here."
"I find plenty of amusement for all the spare hours I have."
"After what you said, I kept thinking of this place; and five of our
fellows have come up here, and chartered a schooner for the summer. She
is anchored out in the river; and now that we are here, you will not
even go on board of her," continued Spickles, becoming more and more
disgusted with the refusal of the captain of the Lily; for such he was,
and his "class in sailing" were about ready to go on board of the
schooner.
"I am the skipper of that schooner you see out in the lake, and I have
to go out in her in a short time," Matt explained.
"Put it off; let the party wait till you come back," insisted the
visitor.
"We don't do things in that way here," added Matt, with a smile.
"Tell them you are sick, and can't go," suggested Spickles.
"But I am not sick."
"You were not always above stretching the truth a little in an
emergency."
"I am now." Matt did not blush in saying it, either.
"We are going to stay on the lake all summer, if we don't get tired of
it," continued Spickles. "I depended upon having you with us, Matt; for
we don't know much about the navigation in these waters, though we have
the government charts."
"I don't see how you could depend upon me, for I told you that I was
under strict discipline in the Beech Hill Industrial School," argued
Matt. "I can't come and go when I will."
"Confound the Beech Hill Industrial School! Run away from it, and join
our party for the summer."
"I certainly shall not run away from it, for I am perfectly contented
and happy here," replied Matt.
"At least you will come on board of the La Motte?"
"What's the La Motte?"
"She's the schooner we chartered for the summer, though she's nothing
but a lumber-vessel fixed up for our use. She sails very well, and is
large enough for a party of ten. We found her at Rouse's Point. Now,
come on board of her. We have just opened a keg of beer in view of your
expected visit," said Spickles, in the most persuasive tones he could
command.
"I don't drink beer," answered the student of the school.
"You don't drink beer!" exclaimed the visitor, stepping back in his
apparent astonishment. "How long has that been?"
"I haven't tasted beer, or any thing of the kind, since I came to this
school, about two years ago," replied the captain of the Lily.
"Then, it was only because you couldn't get any beer."
"Perhaps that is one reason, though I haven't tried to get any. I had it
all about me while I was at home in New York, but I had decided not to
take any under any circumstances."
"Then, it is time for you to begin again. Come along, Matt."
"No beer for me, and I cannot go with you," added Matt resolutely. "I
made up my mind a year ago not to drink any thing that fuddles, and to
keep out of bad company."
"Bad company!" exclaimed Spickles, looking earnestly into the face of
his former associate in the city.
"That is what I said; and I advise you to do the same thing, Spickles.
It is best to keep on the safe side of the evils of this world."
"You are a regular built parson!"
This conversation was continued for some time longer, but the captain of
the Lily remained as firm as the rocks in the quarry above Beechwater.
The visitor was not only disgusted with his want of success in enticing
his former companion to the schooner in the river, but he was offended
at what he considered the stiffness of Matt. When the latter spoke of
keeping out of bad company, he put the coat on, whether he saw that it
fitted him or not.
"You are an out-and-out spooney now, Matt Randolph; and I did not think
that of you," said Spickles, as the crew of the Lily began to gather on
the wharf, where the conversation had taken place.
"Just as you please, Spickles," replied Matt, with a smile; and he
seemed to feel that the interview had come to a desirable point, and
that his former associate would drop him from the roll of his friends.
"But I want to look about this place a little before I leave it
forever," added the visitor. "I suppose I can do so?"
"Certainly, upon application to the principal, Captain Gildrock. He will
show you all over the establishment," replied Matt. "There he comes, and
I will introduce you."
"All right. Chuckworth! Mackwith!" answered Spickles, calling to his two
companions in the boat.
The three young men appeared to be about eighteen or twenty years old.
They were dressed in yachting costume, and a person of experience in the
ways of the world would at once have set them down as fast young men.
They were of the reckless order, swaggering, defiant, boisterous. If a
lady had seen them together, she would have taken the other side of the
street.
Captain Gildrock was coming down the wharf, to look after the
embarkation of the sailing-class. Matt Randolph presented Spickles to
the principal, and left the chief of the party to introduce his
companions.
"You are the boss of this concern, I take it, Captain Gilthead," said
Spickles, suddenly putting on his usual style, and in a sort of
patronizing tone, as if the principal had been a country schoolmaster,
who ought to consider himself honored by being noticed by a young
gentleman from the metropolis.
In fact, Captain Spickles, as his companions on board of the La Motte
called him, was determined to "take him down" a little. The visitor,
after what Matt had said to him about the discipline of the institution,
regarded him with a sort of instinctive hatred. He did not like any one
who disciplined young men. Principals, professors, schoolmasters, were
monsters, ogres, tyrants, whose only mission in the world was to tease,
torture, and torment young fellows like himself.
Captain Gildrock looked at him with a puzzled expression on his
dignified face; though the usual smile when he was in repose, played
about his mouth. He read the young man almost at the first glance; and
if he had considered the popinjay worthy of his steel, he would have
prepared for a skirmish of words with him.
"I said 'Captain Gildrock,'" interposed Matt, with emphasis enough to
clear himself; for he saw that the fellow had purposely miscalled the
name.
"Excuse me, Captain Goldblock."
"Certainly, Mr. Spittle," added the principal blandly.
"Mr. Spickles, if you please," interposed the visitor, who did not at
all relish being paid off in his own coin.
"Precisely so, Mr. Spiddles," laughed the principal; while Matt had to
turn away to hide his choking laugh.
"My name is Spickles, Captain Goldblock."
"Ah, indeed, Mr. Skiggles! Permit me to add that mine is Gildrock."
"Well, Captain Gildrock"--
"Well, Mr. Spickles"--
"I suppose you are the boss of this concern. Will you show it up?"
"I am the principal of this institution."
"Possibly I shall be able to entertain these visitors alone, Randolph,
and you may go on board with your ship's company," said Captain
Gildrock, a little later, while he was waiting for the young gentleman
from New York to study up his next question.
Matt had twelve students to instruct in the art of sailing a boat, and
he directed them to take their places in the two boats that were waiting
for them.
"Well, boss, we are ready to see what you have got to show," said
Spickles.
"Well, my young cub, I don't know that things here will interest you,
but I will show you all you may wish to see," continued the captain, as
he conducted the strangers to the office, under the schoolroom. "We
register all students here when they come. If they have any money, we
keep it for them in that steel safe."
"Is that a steel safe?" asked Mr. Spickles. "Upon my word, I thought it
was a wooden one."
"You thought it was made of the same material as your head; but I assure
you it is not. Nothing so soft would answer the purpose," answered the
principal, who did not always stand on his dignity, though he had plenty
of it.
Messrs. Chuckworth and Mackwith turned away, and indulged in audible
smiles. Associated with Mr. Spickles, they were often the victims of his
peculiar humor, and they were not at all sorry to have him put under the
harrow. They enjoyed the remarks of the principal more than Spickles
did.
"Then, it is really a steel safe; and I suppose you are afraid the
students will steal your money, or you wouldn't have a steel safe,"
continued Mr. Spickles, chuckling as though he thought he had made a
pun.
"Well, no; we hardly expect the students to rob the safe, for they are
taught not to steal; but some of these visitors might have a taste for
that sort of thing. I sometimes have a thousand dollars in that safe,
besides small sums belonging to the students. In fact, I believe I have
two thousand dollars in it at this moment: that is the reason why I
prefer a steel safe to a wooden one."
The principal showed the visitors over the premises, though they took
very little interest in the institution. Spickles indulged in impudent
remarks, which the captain parried in his own way, so that he soon got
tired of making them; for every time he did so, his friends had a chance
to laugh at him, and enjoy the retort.
If Spickles disliked the principal in the first of it, he hated him in
the end. A sharp answer made him mad when they had finished the survey,
and he was so saucy that Captain Gildrock ordered him to leave. He did
not take the hint; and the principal took him by the collar, dragged him
to the wharf, and tumbled him into the boat. The leader of the summer
party vowed vengeance to his companions.
CHAPTER II.
THE NAUTIFELERS CLUB ON THE LAKE.
Captain Gildrock hardly thought of the self-sufficient visitor after he
had seen the boat which contained him pull away from the wharf. He only
wondered how Matt Randolph had ever made the acquaintance of such a
fellow, for he was a gentleman himself.
The Beech Hill Industrial School had nearly completed its third year of
existence; and in the opinion of the principal, and also of a great many
other people, it was a decided success. It had certainly reformed quite
a number of young men who might otherwise have become useless, if not
dangerous, members of the community. It had given useful trades to a
considerable number of young men who would not have taken them up on
their own account.
Its moral influence had been even more marked than its industrial power,
and it had assuredly done something to make manual labor more
respectable than it had been considered to be before. There were already
those who were not only earning a living, but were supporting their
parents, by the aid of the knowledge and skill they had acquired in the
institution; and if it had done nothing more than this, it would have
done a great deal.
Cold critics said it ought to be a success, for the founder of it had a
purse long enough to make any reasonable undertaking a success; but the
idea was not a practical one, because it was not susceptible of
universal application. The State could not afford to support such
schools for all who might be willing to use them. It certainly could not
provide for an expenditure as liberal as that of Captain Gildrock, but
it could do a great deal more than it has yet done in this direction.
After the principal had disposed of his impertinent visitor,--for there
was really only one of this type, as Chuckworth and Mackwith hardly
spoke a word,--he could not help thinking that it was a great pity
Spickles could not be brought under such discipline as that of the Beech
Hill School. He was a young man of decided ability, and all he needed
was a kind of discipline that would give him something to live for. He
needed something to think about and work for.
When Matt Randolph returned from his trip with his class in sailing, he
reported to the principal, who happened to be in the office. He informed
the captain where he had been, and the nature of the operations he had
conducted on board of the Lily. He commended his crew for good
discipline, and close application to their duty. A critic might have
laughed at this last part of the report as entirely superfluous; for, as
a matter of course, any party of human boys would be interested, and do
their whole duty, in sailing a boat.
"By the way, Randolph, is Mr. Spickles a friend of yours?" asked the
principal, after he had listened attentively to the report.
"No, sir!" replied Matt, very decidedly. "I was acquainted with him at
home, and he was on board of the yacht a number of times; but after he
stole a thousand dollars from his father, and ran away, I had nothing
more to do with him."
"Was he as bad as that? He seemed to be more like one of the puppy order
than one of the criminal kind. He was very saucy to me after I had shown
his party over the school; and I had to take him by the collar, and put
him into his boat."
"I am glad you did, sir," added Matt. "I was inclined to lay hands on
him after his impudence at the beginning."
"He came to see you, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir. He is with a party, and there are five of them. They have
chartered a schooner, and intend to spend the summer on the lake.
Spickles invited me on board of the vessel, and insisted that I should
go with him. I refused."
"The less you have to do with such a fellow as that, the better it will
be for you, though it may be all the worse for him," added the
principal.
"Spickles told me they had just tapped a keg of beer."
"Of course! the fellow has made considerable progress in the downward
road."
After supper the students embarked in the barges for a row, and for
practice with the oars. As during the last season, there were three of
these boats, the Gildrock and the Winooski, each of twelve oars, and the
Marian of eight oars. The crews had been re-organized; and the two
larger boats were preparing for a race, each against the other.
Matt Randolph was the coxswain of the Winooski, and Dory Dornwood of the
Gildrock; for the crew of each had selected the most skilful boatman in
the school to get them in condition for this race. For the last year the
students had been on tolerably peaceable terms with the members of the
Chesterfield Collegiate Institute, on the other side of the lake; and it
was possible that a race would be arranged with them for the Fourth of
July.
The two barges were careful to keep away from each other during their
practice. The two coxswains, though on the most friendly terms, never
talked about the coming race. If either had any points, he wanted to
keep them to himself. Each of them had a system of his own in the method
of rowing, and each kept his own counsel.
Matt Randolph, for these reasons, did not immediately follow the
Gildrock when she left the boat-house, but went up to the head of
Beechwater. As soon as the rival craft had passed out of the little
lake, the Winooski followed her. The coxswain saw that the party on
board of the La Motte, which lay just below the entrance of the creek
into the river, hailed the Gildrock when she went by her. But Dory took
no notice of them; and Matt concluded that he had not been addressed in
civil tones, or he would have replied.
"I wonder what that schooner is that lies in the river," said Ash
Burton, who pulled the stroke-oar in the Winooski. "She has been there
all the afternoon, and a boat from her went up into Beechwater a while
ago."
"That is the schooner La Motte; and she has a party of young fellows on
board of her who are going to spend the summer on the lake," replied the
coxswain, loud enough for all in the barge to hear him.
"They are hoisting the mainsail," added the stroke-oarsman. "That looks
as though they were going out of the river."
"If they are going to leave these parts, I am glad of it," said Matt in
a lower tone.
"Why are you glad of it, Matt?" asked Ash curiously.
"They are not the sort of fellows I like to have very near me; for they
are on a lark, and they have plenty of beer on board," replied the
coxswain.
The boat passed out of the creek into the river. The La Motte had set
her mainsail, and was now hoisting the foresail. Matt gave the schooner
as wide a berth as he could, but he could not get more than a hundred
feet from her.
"Is that you, Matt Randolph?" shouted Spickles.
"I believe so," replied the coxswain.
"Come on board, will you, Matt?" continue the captain of the La Motte,
beckoning with his hand.
"You must excuse me, Spickles. I have the charge of this barge, and I
can't leave her," replied Matt, very civilly, but not less decisively.
"I have to attend to my duty."
"But I want to see you about the navigation of this river; for I got
aground coming in, and I don't want to do it again," added the captain
of the La Motte.
The coxswain shifted the helm of the barge; for if there was any thing
to be done that would assist in the departure of the schooner, he was
willing to do it. He ran alongside of the vessel, and held the boat at a
distance of about ten feet from her.
"What is the trouble about the navigation, Spickles?" asked Matt, coming
to business at once.
"Off that point below, I found that the water was not more than two feet
deep," said the captain.
"And it is marked one foot on the chart; and you told me you were
supplied with charts."
"I am; but the river is not laid down on the chart."
"You have a south-west wind; and all you have to do is to keep near the
middle of the stream, and you will go out all right. Is that all?"
"No, that is not all," replied Spickles, who seemed to be dissatisfied
at the distance his former friend kept between them, and with his
apparent desire to get off again. "The water is not more than two or
three feet deep anywhere out beyond that point."
"To the southward of the point, the water is shoal; but it is deep
enough north of it to float an ocean-steamer anywhere. As soon as you
get to that bend in the river, and open up the point, run for it.
Then--have you a compass on board?"
"Of course I have a compass: I brought a good one with me from New
York," replied Spickles.
"When you are up with Beaver Point"--
"Where is that?" interposed the captain of the La Motte, who seemed to
be intent upon detaining the coxswain as long as possible.
"The point at the mouth of the river. When you come up with it, make
your course north-west by west, and you will be all right till you run
on the shore on the other side of the lake."
"I say, Matt, I want to introduce you to the members of the Nautifelers
Club; and I wish you would come on board," persisted Spickles.
"As I said before, I cannot, and you must excuse me. But what is the
club?" asked Matt, whose curiosity was excited.
"The Nautifelers Club."
"Is that a Greek word?"
"Of course it is."
"I can't quite make it out: will you spell it for me?" asked Matt.
"I will write it for you: it means in English, 'Lots of fun.'"
The coxswain gave an order which brought the stern of the barge near
enough to the vessel to enable him to obtain the paper, but resisted all
persuasions to go on board of the schooner.
CHAPTER III.
A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION IN THE NIGHT.
Matt Randolph looked at the name of the club, as Spickles had written
it, and spelled it out so that all his crew could hear him. All of them
seemed to "take it in," or got its meaning from his boatmates. They all
laughed, with the exception of the coxswain, and he was inclined to
frown.
"It is easy to get at the meaning of such Greek as that, even if a
fellow has not fitted for college; and for my part, I should not care to
join a club with such a name," said he, with a look of disgust on his
face, which was also evident in his tones.
"I expected you to join us as soon as we found you, Matt," added the
captain of the schooner.
"You reckoned without your host, then.--Ready to give way!" said the
coxswain.
"Hold on a minute, Matt! Do you go to Sunday school now?" jeered
Spickles.
"Every Sunday."
"I am sorry for you. You are under the thumb of that old hunker who
calls himself the principal, and you don't know enough to catch the
straw when you are drowning. I gave the old hunks some!"
"And he took you by the collar, and put you into your boat, and served
you right. Give way!" added Matt.
"He's an old squalipop; and he will be likely to hear from me again! He
is no gentleman, and he treated me like an uneducated owl. I shall pay
him off for it, or my name is something besides Spickles," foamed the
skipper of the La Motte.
At this moment, and while the barge was backing away, one of the party
brought out a tray, on which were tall glasses filled with beer; and
each member of the Nautifelers Club took one of them.
"Here's to the Nautifelers Club! Lots of fun to them, and confusion to
old Squalipop!" shouted Spickles, at the top of his lungs, as he and his
companions drank off the contents of the glasses.
The barge darted away from the schooner, and was soon out of hail of
her. It was evident that the members of the club with the Greek name had
bargained for an extensive frolic of the coarsest sort, and most of the
crew of the Winooski were simply disgusted with the members of it. Some
of them had come from the city, and were more or less familiar with such
sights.
"I should rather like to join that club," said Tom Topover, when the
boat was some distance from the La Motte.
"You are not one of that sort of fellows now, Tom," added the coxswain.
"You have got beyond that kind of a life, and I hope you are strong
enough to keep above it."
"You know how to preach, Matt; but I don't want to sit under your
preaching. Those fellows are going to have a good time; and I think they
will enjoy it," added Tom pleasantly, as some of his old temptations
came back to him. "Do you know those fellows, Matt?"
"I know Spickles; but I never saw the others before, though I think they
behave like gentlemen compared with their leader."
"He is a jolly fellow," added Tom.
"Spickles's father was formerly a wealthy man in the city, and his son
stole a thousand dollars from him. Since that I have kept out of his
way, and I will not associate with him."
"What did he do with the money? Give it to the missionaries?" asked Tom;
and his companions noticed that he talked a good deal worse than he
meant sometimes, and could not entirely rid himself of his former ways
of expressing himself.
"He took a steamer to New Orleans, and spent his stolen money in
dissipation. When it was all gone, he had to come home before the mast
in a bark. He is a bad boy, and his father could not manage him. If he
had been sent to the Beech Hill School, it would have made a man of him.
I don't quite understand, though I can guess, how he can take such a
trip as the one he is now making; for his father lost his money, failed,
and is now at work as a clerk."
"Perhaps some of the other fellows have rich fathers," suggested Ash
Burton.
"It may be so, but I don't believe it. The sons of rich fathers, when
they want to go on a frolic, don't make such a fellow as Michael Angelo
Spickles their leader," added Matt.
"Is that his name?" asked Ash.
"They say his mother don't like the name of Spickles, and gave him a
high-sounding handle to it to smooth it off. I don't know any thing
about it, Tom Topover; but if I were a betting man, I would wager two to
one that Spickles stole the money which is used to pay the expenses of
the La Motte," continued Matt impressively.
"Then, again, perhaps he didn't," replied Tom.
"I think he did; and he didn't steal it from his father this time, for
Mr. Spickles did not have it. Now, Tom, whether he stole this money, or
not, he will certainly come to grief. In a month, a year, or ten years,
when you see him in the State prison, you will be glad you were not a
member of the Nautifelers Club," said Matt, as he consulted the paper in
his hand to recall the Greek word.
"You don't know what is going to become of that fellow any more than you
know what is going to become of me," added Tom.
"Certainly I don't know; but when you see a young fellow like Spickles,
drinking, dissipating, insulting a gentleman like Captain Gildrock, it
is easy enough to see where he is coming out. I used to drink beer with
Angy, as we used to call Spickles when he was a more decent fellow than
he is now, and I know something about it."
"Didn't you like it?" asked Tom.
"I can't say that I did: it always gave me the headache, and made me
feel more like a fool than I generally do. I used to drink it because
other fellows did. When I came up here, I did not want it; and I have
been a great deal better without it."
The Winooski went to the other side of the lake, where the coxswain
proceeded to train his crew for the work before him. Not a word was
spoken that did not relate to the practice, which was kept up till
nearly dark, when the barge returned to Beech Hill. As the boat
approached the mouth of the river, the La Motte was seen two or three
miles to the northward, standing down the lake. Matt hoped that she
would not again visit the waters in the vicinity of Beech Hill.
Matt reported to the principal when the boat had been housed, as all who
were in charge of expeditions, excursions, or business trips, were
required to do. He informed the captain of the departure of the La
Motte, and related to him what had taken place during the interview,
giving him the name of the club, as written on the paper.
"The Nautifelers Club is well named, if the word is Greek," said Captain
Gildrock. "I suppose they are merely engaged in a frolic, and I only
hope they will keep away from this part of the lake."
"They came from the northern part of the lake, for they chartered the
schooner at Rouse's Point; and I don't exactly understand why they are
going off in that direction again," suggested Matt. "They have not yet
been to the upper part of the lake, and it looks as though they did not
intend to do so."
"Perhaps they have drunk so much beer they don't know what they are
about," added the principal. "I should say that Spickles was a bright
boy, and it is a thousand pities that he is plunging into excesses."
At the usual hour all was still; and the students, who had had plenty of
exercise in the boats as well as in the shops, slept soundly in their
rooms. Insomnia was unknown at the institution, and all were active and
bright in the morning at an early hour.
Some of them awoke at an unusually early hour the next morning, though
it soon appeared that the current of events was not flowing in its
ordinary channel. The students and others had been awakened by some
extraordinary disturbance, or most of them would have slept till the
morning-bell roused them from their slumbers.
As nearly at three o'clock as the hour could afterwards be fixed, a
tremendous explosion, with a sound which equalled the report of one of
the yacht-guns on board of the Sylph, shook the buildings of the school,
and made the windows of the dormitory rattle as though a hurricane had
struck them. The very earth seemed to tremble under the effects of the
convulsion.
Suddenly startled from their slumbers, those who heard the sound, and
had been shaken in their beds by it, were unable to determine where the
report came from, or to form any idea of what had caused it. Perhaps
half the students in their rooms leaped from their beds, and the other
half were partially paralyzed where they lay by the shock.
Doubtless, if they had been awake, and had understood the cause of the
explosion, they would have enjoyed it; for the average boy delights in a
terrific noise. But they were literally and figuratively in the dark.
They could see nothing to explain the tremendous racket which had
startled them from their deep sleep, and not a sound followed the shock
to give them a clew to the strange event.
Some thought it must be an earthquake; others that it was a crash of
thunder which attended the striking of the lightning at some point not
far from them. Possibly some of them thought that a daring rogue of the
school was playing off a trick upon his companions; and more wondered if
one of the chimneys on the dormitory had not fallen over, and crushed in
the roof of the building.
It might be an earthquake, for there was no smell of powder, no
lightning in the sky; and no one was stirring in the building, as would
have been the case if the roof had been crushed. In fact, not even the
most intelligent and quick-witted of the students could assign any cause
to the event. They stood in their rooms, or lay in their beds, thinking
of it for a few moments, waiting for something else to come, some
after-clap, which would throw a ray of light on the subject. Nothing
came.
Some of the boldest and most energetic of the boys began to put on a
portion of their clothes, and unfastened their doors. As may well be
supposed, Dory Dornwood was one of the first to come out of the stupor
produced by the shock. He had not been awake more than five seconds,
before he had jumped inside of his pants, and opened the door of his
room.
He looked out into the long hall, but it was as dark as Egypt there; and
there was no glare of a fire in the building,--not a flash, not a sound
of any kind. He went back into his room, and opened the window. He
looked out on the lawn, but there was nothing in motion there. No key to
the enigma was within his reach.
But by this time, he heard a sound in the hall. He went to the door, but
it was too dark to see any thing. Some conspiracy on the part of a few
restless students might have been brought to a focus at this time, and
he deemed it prudent to light his lamp before he took any step. If there
was any thing to be seen, he wanted to see it.
If any conspirators were trying to knock down the dormitory, or
perpetrate a practical joke, he had a desire to know who they were; for
all such tricks were at a discount in the school. The principal had no
mercy for a practical joker when the feelings or the person of any
individual was imperilled by the so-called fun.
There was some one in the hall, beyond a doubt. It might be one of the
students, roused, like himself, by the explosion; or it might be an
evil-doer from outside of the fold. Dory opened the door again, and
thrust the lamp out into the hall, so as to light every part of it.
The person in the hall proved to be Matt Randolph.
CHAPTER IV.
THE SCENE OF OPERATIONS.
"Did you hear it, Dory?" called Matt Randolph, as soon as he saw the
light at the door of the other.
"Did I hear it?" replied Dory, who was cool enough to smile at the
absurdity of the question, though it was nothing more than the
introduction to the subject in the minds of both. "I could not very well
help hearing it, though I sleep as soundly as a bullfrog in winter."
"What was it?" demanded Matt, apparently more excited than Dory.
"That's the conundrum before the house at the present moment. I have not
the least idea what it was," replied Dory. "It shook my windows, and at
first I thought my bed was lifted up under me. It might have been an
earthquake, though such convulsions are not the fashion in the State of
Vermont."
"I thought it must be an earthquake at first," added Matt.
"Did you alter your mind?" asked Dory, as he stepped back into his room,
and put on his shoes.
"Not exactly; but on second thought I concluded that it could not be an
earthquake, and I was wondering what it could be, when I heard a door
open," added Matt, who was fully dressed, for he had taken the time to
put on his clothes before he came out of his room.
"I move you, Captain Randolph, that we don't try to imagine what it was,
but that we go and look into the matter, and find out what it was,"
replied Dory, as he put on his coat, and led the way to the hall.
"That is the sensible thing to do; but a fellow can't expect to be very
bright when he is shaken out of his slumbers by something like an
earthquake," said Matt, as he followed Dory.
By this time several of the students had recovered, in a measure, from
their consternation, and had opened their doors, some of them shaking
with terror, as though they expected to be swallowed up immediately in
some awful catastrophe.
"What is the matter, Dory?" Tucker Prince asked, as the two coxswains
passed his door.
"Give it up, Tuck: ask me something easier," replied Dory, laughing. "I
may be able to tell you something about it at a later hour in the
morning."
"What was it, Dory?" asked Tom Topover.
"It was a tremendous noise; and that is all that is known about it at
the present moment, on this floor of the dormitory."
"I knew as much as that before," added Tom.
"Then, you are as wise as any of us, Tom."
Dory and Matt did not pause to talk, but hastened to the lower floor.
There was nothing below to explain the noise, and the outside door was
locked as usual. Dory opened it, and they went out on the lawn. At this
point they smelled something which was not powder, though it had an
unknown chemical odor.
The building containing the schoolroom and workshops, or a part of the
latter, was close to the dormitory; and the inquirers went in that
direction. The office was in front of the shops, on the lower floor. It
was an apartment of considerable size, which had been put in the year
before, when the shops were enlarged. It was handsomely carpeted, and
was really Captain Gildrock's private apartment; though Fatima Millweed
used it, and kept the accounts of the institution there.
As the principal had indicated to his visitors the afternoon before, it
contained a steel safe, as well as a couple of roll-top desks, and a
number of easy-chairs; for visitors on business were received in this
room. Captain Gildrock had sold a house the day before in the town, and
had put the money he received in the safe until he could go to the bank
in Burlington.
Dory had carried his lamp as far as the outside door of the dormitory,
but the wind had blown the light out as soon as he came out of the
building. He retained it in his hand as they walked to the shops, as the
structure was called, taking its name from the working, rather than the
school, room.
It was a dark night, cloudy and windy: in fact, it was blowing a smart
gale from the south. Coming from the light into the gloom outside, Dory
and Matt might as well have been blind, so far as seeing any thing was
concerned. But every inch of the ground was familiar to them, and they
walked directly to the shops. The chemical odor became more pronounced.
They halted in front of the office. This apartment was locked, and they
had no key to the door. They could not yet see any thing in the deep
gloom, though their sight was improving.
"The explosion came from some point near us," said Dory, as he walked up
to the door of the office, guided by instinct rather than sight.
"I can smell something, but I can't see a thing," added Matt.
"Here we are!" exclaimed Dory, when he had passed from the door to one
of the windows of the office. "This window is open, and the mischief
came from here!"
"Is it a break?" demanded Matt, beginning to be a little excited.
This was police slang; but Dory understood it, as any one might have
done; and he replied that it was a "break."
"Look out, then, Dory!" added Matt, laying his hand on the shoulder of
his companion. "The burglars may be still in the office; and such
fellows carry revolvers, which they use when they get into a tight
place."
"They can hardly be here now, after they have taken the trouble to wake
up the entire neighborhood with such an explosion," replied Dory. "Take
this lamp, Matt, and I will get in at the window, and strike a light."
"Don't do it, Dory!" protested Matt. "Wait a moment, and I will go back
to the dormitory, and get a lantern out of the lower hall."
Without waiting for his companion, Matt ran back to the dormitory. A
couple of lanterns were kept there for the use of the students in the
evening, if they had occasion to go to the shops or elsewhere. Matt took
one of them down, and lighted it, for there were matches in the tin box
on the wall. When he had done so, he concluded to light the other, so
that each of them could have one in conducting the examination.
Dory stood at the open window while his companion was gone; for he
agreed with Matt, that prudence was a virtue at all times: and
reasonable people practise it, unless they get too angry to do so, and
then they regret it afterwards. He had begun to think that Matt was gone
a long time, when he heard a sound inside of the office.
The noise startled him, for he had not believed the robbers delayed
their flight so long after they had taken the trouble to announce
themselves to all within hearing. He listened with his head thrust into
the open window as far as the length of his neck would permit, and he
was intensely interested from that moment.
If there were any robbers in the office, they must have heard what Matt
said when he proposed to go for the lantern. Dory had always read the
newspapers; and he knew something about the operations of burglars,
though he lived far from any great city. The night-visitors to the
office of the institution, he concluded, had blown open the steel safe,
or attempted to do so. If they had succeeded, it could not have taken
them more than a minute or two to scoop out the contents of the safe, or
at least to pocket the money it contained.
He was just making up his mind that the burglars must have departed
before any one had had time to come to the office, when the noise he had
heard before was repeated. It sounded like some mechanical operation,
and appeared to be on the farther side of the room, where there was a
door opening into the carpenter's shop.
"I was a fool not to open this door before we finished the safe!" said
some one in the room, in a low and subdued voice, and in a tone which
indicated his disgust at the situation in which he found himself.
"Hurry up! The fellow will be back with the lantern in a moment, and
then we shall be blown," added another voice.
"Then some one will get shot!" said the first speaker.
But at the same moment, the sound of the opening door came to Dory's
ears. He was on the point of springing in at the window, to prevent the
escape of the burglars, when he realized that he was almost sure to be
shot, as the first speaker had suggested. He was unarmed; and against
two men, as he supposed they were, he had a small chance of
accomplishing any thing in the way of capturing them.
Through the open door into the shop he saw several flashes of light, and
then he understood that the operators were provided with one or more
dark-lanterns. He could hear their retreating footsteps in the shop; and
he concluded that they intended to escape through one of the rear
windows, which they could easily open, as they were fastened on the
inside.
Two lights were approaching from the dormitory, Dory saw, as he withdrew
his head from the window. But what use were they now? He had solved the
enigma, and any further light on the subject was superfluous. The
burglars had effected an entrance: whether the explosion had opened the
safe, or not, was yet to be discovered. But while he was thinking of the
matter, the robbers were getting away. This was all wrong, Dory suddenly
realized.
"Help! Help! Burglars! Robbers!" shouted Dory, at the very top of his
voice; and he had never been accused of having weak lungs.
"What are you about, Dory?" called Matt, as he rushed towards him.
"Doing the next best thing!" said Dory hastily. "Run to the dormitory,
Matt, with all your might, and ring the bell, just as you would for
fire."
"Do you think there are any burglars in the office?" asked Matt.
"Not now! But there have been at least two of them there, and now they
are escaping by the back windows of the carpenter's shop! They are armed
too. Hurry up, and ring the bell, Matt!" shouted Dory, in the ears of
his companion, as he took one of the lanterns from him.
Placing the lantern on the doorstone of the office, Dory darted off at
the fastest run he could get up for the rear of the building. He
appeared to have forgotten that the burglars had revolvers.
CHAPTER V.
ON THE TRACK OF THE BURGLARS.
Matt Randolph lost no time in discharging his duty at the bell-rope, and
he performed it with the utmost vigor and determination. He rang the
bell, which was in a cupola at the top of the building, as the students
had been instructed to do in case of fire. There was no art or skill to
be used in the operation, and the ringer was simply required to make all
the noise he could; and Matt made it.
Dory reached the rear of the shops in season to escape being shot by the
reckless burglars, and even to avoid being shot at. Perhaps it was
fortunate that he was too late to see the marauders leap from the
window, as he had expected; for his life, or the comfort and well-being
of his well-developed frame, might have been endangered.
When Dory reached the rear of the shops, he found one of the windows
open; and he halted under it to obtain further information, for he was
not a fellow to lose his head, and fly off at random. The rapid ringing
of the bell was rather exhilarating; but he considered it quite
necessary to keep cool, and he did not allow himself to be carried away
by the excitement of the moment. He stopped short under the open window.
It was too dark to see any thing. He had thought of bringing the lantern
with him; but when he thought that it would be of more assistance to the
burglars in avoiding him, than it would be to him in finding them, he
concluded to let the darkness hide his movements. It occurred to him
that the light would enable them to use their revolvers effectively.
All he could do was to stop and listen. The wind was blowing very hard;
and the noise it made in the trees prevented him from hearing the tramp
of footsteps, if there were any to be heard. There was not a sound that
could be distinguished above the rattling of the leaves and the swaying
of the branches.
It was rather discouraging to the volunteer thief-taker; and he began to
feel that he had come to the end of his rope, for it was useless to run
here and there without something to guide his steps. As he had no clew
to the marauders, he could only consider probabilities. What direction
would the burglars take to make their escape? If they had come in a
boat, they could embark anywhere between the bridge above the quarries
and Beaver River.
By land they could pass through the grounds of the estate, and reach the
street; or they could follow the cart-path through the quarries, pass
over the bridge, and reach Lake Champlain at Porter's Bay, or any point
below it, or strike a road which would lead them to the north.
While he was thinking of it, he heard the voice of Matt Randolph calling
to him. But the bell was still ringing, even more furiously than at
first; and it was plain that he had turned this task over to some other
student, for no one but a boy would have put so much vigor into the
operation. And by this time the tremendous racket ought to bring a crowd
to the centre of the disturbance.
"Have you seen any thing of them, Dory?" shouted Matt, as he reached the
corner of the building.
"Not a thing," replied Dory.
The sound of his voice directed the steps of his companion, and brought
him to the vicinity of the open window. He had a lantern in his hand,
and by its aid they examined the window by which the burglars had made
their exit from the shop. But there was nothing there to afford them a
particle of information in the quest.
"Don't you know which way they went?" asked Matt.
"I have not the least idea," answered Dory; and he stated the avenues of
escape open to the robbers, as he had just been over them in his own
mind.
"But while we are standing here, doing nothing, the villains are getting
away," said Matt, with some excitement in his manner.
"It's no use to tear around wildly without knowing what you are about,"
replied Dory quietly. "I am in favor of looking over the chances before
we strike in any direction. With all the racket of that bell, they did
not go through the grounds to the nearest road."
"They will give the roads a wide berth," added Matt.
"Then, they have either taken a boat on the little lake, or they have
gone up to the bridge above the quarry. I feel almost sure they have
done one or the other of these things," continued Dory, who had reached
a decided conclusion, and was ready to act.
"I think you are right, Dory; and what to do is the next article in the
warrant," replied Matt, whom the influence of the other had completely
cooled off, and he saw the folly of running about at random without any
plan of operations.
"All we have to do is to cover the open points of escape, as we
understand them. Have the fellows turned out yet?"
"I believe every one of them is out, in front of the dormitory."
"My uncle ought to be on the spot by this time; but if he is not, I will
assume the responsibility of acting without him. If you will take a
crew, and man the Marian, I will follow the route by the bridge. The
keys of the boat-house are in the office. Be in a hurry about it," added
Dory briskly; and he started off in the direction of the quarries.
"Suppose I see a boat working out of Beechwater, do you think I ought to
try to capture it?" asked Matt, who seemed to be in doubt.
"Not at all! Follow it, and see where it goes: follow it to the end of
Lake Champlain, if it leads you as far as that. Don't meddle with it,
and don't let any of your fellows get shot."
Matt ran back to the dormitory. Though the bell had been ringing some
time, Captain Gildrock had not yet appeared at the scene of the tumult.
The captain of the Lily took the keys, and summoned the crew of the
Marian. In less than five minutes they were pulling out of the
boat-house. The boat proceeded, with all the speed the oarsmen could
give it, to the outlet. Matt went through it to the river, and then
proceeded to examine the north shore of Beechwater.
Dory followed the road to the quarries, and reached the bridge. He
crossed it, and was then in the great road. Between him and the lake the
region was covered with woods. From the road there were cart-paths
leading down to the lake, mostly used by picnic parties. If the burglars
had come this way, they were likely to take to the woods, if they
understood that they were pursued.
Dory halted several times to listen; but it was useless to do so, he
found, for the wind in the trees made noise enough to silence all other
sounds. He passed the cart-path which led down to Porter's Bay, and soon
came to one which led to a very deep indentation of the shore from
Kingsland Bay.
At this point he halted and listened again, and had about come to the
conclusion not to go any farther in this direction. But just then a
bright thought was suggested to him by the circumstances of the
occasion. There had been a heavy rain some time in the night, after he
went to bed, as he learned from the puddles of water in the road. The
ground, where he had seen it by the light of the lantern, had been
washed by a heavy shower, such as sometimes comes with a southerly wind.
The road was rather sandy at the point where Dory halted, as he could
tell from the feeling of it. He lighted a match, for the purpose of
applying a little Indian craft to the situation. Placing the lighted
brand inside of his hat, to protect it from the wind, he stooped down,
and began to examine the bed of the road.
He had hardly bent his body to the task before he heard a sound, not a
great distance from him, which was marvellously like a human voice. He
sprang to his feet, and gazed into the gloom of the woods in the
direction from which the sound had come. But all was silence except the
piping of the violent wind through the branches of the trees. He
strained his hearing-powers for some time, in the hope that the sound
would be repeated; but he did so in vain.
He was almost sure that he had heard a voice, and he was encouraged to
believe that he was on the right track. The sound reached him very
nearly at the instant when he had touched off the match. He spent a few
minutes in reasoning over the circumstance. If the burglars were in the
vicinity, the light of the match had enabled them to locate him; and he
was willing to believe that the discovery of his presence had called
forth a sudden exclamation of surprise from the least prudent of the
two.
Whether his conclusion was correct, or not, it satisfied him, and
assured him that the marauders were near him. He was alone and unarmed;
while there were two burglars, each perhaps provided with a revolver.
The situation was not wholly satisfactory to him; for though he was as
brave as a lion, he was also as prudent as a cat lying in wait for a
bird.
He had halted at the junction of the great road with the cart-path
leading to Kingsland Bay; and the sound he had heard, assured him that
the marauders were on this side-road. He had no more idea of attacking
them than he had of running away from them. But the light had enabled
them to fix his own position in the gloom, and Dory deemed it advisable
to derange their calculations.
With a careful step, he walked away from the junction of the roads by
the way he had come. It would be as difficult for them to hear him as it
was for him to hear them, and in a few moments he increased his pace. At
the foot of a little hill, perhaps a quarter of a mile from his first
stopping-place, he halted again. He did not believe they had followed
him, for they could not have been aware of his movement.
Lighting another match, he examined the road, as he had intended to do
before. Between the ruts he found the footprints of two persons, who had
been walking side by side. The marks were made by genteel boots or
shoes, and not by any farmer or laborer who wore cowhide and broad soles
on his feet.
This discovery made it appear to Dory that the burglars were
professional gentlemen of the housebreaking order, and probably they did
not belong anywhere in the vicinity of Genverres. This demonstration
added something to the inquirer's stock of information; but it was of no
especial value, since the hearing of the voice in the woods was more
tangible evidence.
No end of questions which he could not answer flashed through Dory's
mind after his match had burned out, and he had established to his own
satisfaction the professional character of the operators. They were
somewhere within a half a mile of him; and he wanted to know whether
they intended to take a boat at Kingsland Bay, or escape by the road,
which would take them to Burlington if they followed it long enough. Of
course he could not answer either of these important questions.
The peril of the situation, in view of the revolvers, and the lack of
knowledge, made it very difficult for him to determine what to do. He
ended by deciding to do nothing beyond lying in wait for the marauders.
He returned very cautiously to the junction of the roads again. There he
seated himself on the top-rail of a fence, and--waited.
That was all he could do, though the inactivity to which he was
condemned made him as impatient as a chained mastiff.
He had seen the clock in the lower hall of the dormitory, and he knew
that the explosion had occurred at about three o'clock. At least half an
hour--and he thought it was nearer a full hour--had since elapsed. It
would be daylight within an hour, though it was a very dark morning, and
with the light he could act more intelligently.
No sound came from the direction of the bay, and it occurred to Dory
that the marauders might have continued their retreat by the road. He
was startled at the thought, and he jumped down from the fence.
CHAPTER VI.
A VICTIM OF STRATEGY.
Almost at the same moment, it came to the active mind of Dory Dornwood
that the burglars might have gone to the bay, and embarked in a boat.
They were as likely to do this as they were to take to the road. He had
heard nothing since the sound of the voice startled him, and the
villains might be two or three miles from him by this time. It would not
be pleasant for him, at the breakfast-table the next morning, to relate
that he had got on the track of the robbers, and then entirely lost the
clew to them.
The thought of such a state of things annoyed him; and he decided that
he should rather be shot, or at least be shot at, than subject himself
to this degree of humiliation. But it was best to be prudent, even after
he had decided to be shot at rather than be inactive any longer; and he
walked some distance beyond the cart-path, to the northward.
He was intent upon settling the first problem,--whether or not the
burglars had retreated by the road during his absence in the other
direction. He lighted a match; but his examination of the roadway
revealed no prints of human feet, and even those of horses had been
obliterated by the heavy rain. He investigated several points of the
road, and looked carefully on each side of the driveway, without finding
a mark.
Returning to the junction of the roads, he made new calculations of the
probable action of the marauders. He was reasonably confident, that, as
they had not taken to the road, they were still in the woods. They must
be strangers to the locality, and were not likely to attempt to find
their way through the woods in the intense darkness which prevailed
under the trees. Possibly they were waiting, like himself, for the
daylight.
Dory did not believe they could get away unless they took to the lake,
or departed by the road, at least until it was light enough for them to
pick their way through the woods. He was covering the road, and he
believed that he had got the matter down fine enough to leave them only
the lake as an avenue of escape.
The wind was now blowing a violent gale; and even the most experienced
boatman in those waters would not think of going out in a small boat,
unless it was to save life. Kingsland Bay was fully sheltered, for it
was not more than half a mile wide at its greatest breadth. They could
not get out into the lake while the present tempest raged; and if they
tried to get away in any other direction, they must aim for the road,
for the Little Beaver River cut off their retreat between the highway
and the lake.
Dory's head had been very level so far; and when he stated his theory in
detail to his uncle, the principal, he fully approved his logic. He
resumed his seat on the fence. He had hardly done so before he caught a
faint gleam of light in the woods in the direction of the lake. A moment
later he discovered a more decided appearance of a light. The villains
were getting reckless, he thought; and possibly they concluded that the
pursuers had abandoned the chase, as they saw no more of them.
Encouraged by these appearances, Dory continued to wait. At the end of
half an hour he was astonished to see a light in the road, not twenty
rods from him, and in the direction of Beech Hill. At first he concluded
that it was the lantern from the school, and that some one or a party
had started to find him.
The light was moving; but it was not approaching him, as it would be if
his supposition were correct. It was certainly moving in the direction
of Beech Hill, and it must be from the dark-lantern of the robbers. If
this was the case, they were certainly taking a great deal of care to
show it to him.
He could not see the person who carried the moving light, or tell
whether he was alone, or not. Just then it looked to Dory as though he
was losing the game he had been playing so patiently. He left the fence
again. By the side of the road was a quantity of hoop-poles, and he
stumbled over them. He took one of them, and cut it in two; for it was
best to have a club, though he did not expect to have to use it.
Somehow the weapon seemed to add to his strength, though it was no match
for a revolver. From the evidence of the light, he concluded that not
more than one, if either, of the men remained in the woods. It looked as
though the robbers were arranging a new combination, and Dory decided to
make sure that he did not leave one of the villains behind him if he
followed the light.
It was but a short distance to the head of the bay, and a visit to the
shore would not detain him ten minutes. He followed the cart-path,
proceeding very cautiously. But he reached the shore without seeing or
hearing any thing. It was beginning to be a little lighter.
Drawn up on a little beach he discovered a boat. This could belong only
to the burglars. But why had they taken to the road, and started off in
the direction of the school, instead of departing in their boat? But
they must certainly return to the boat, and finally escape in it. The
painter was made fast to a tree; and Dory lost no time in casting it
off, and shoving the boat as far as he could from the shore.
He had closed that avenue of escape, and he started for the road. Before
he had gone twenty steps, he found himself in the embrace of a man, who
had fallen upon him in the rear. His club was useless; and the attack
was wholly unexpected, for he had been fully satisfied that the robbers
were both retreating by the road.
Dory struggled with all his might, but he was taken at an utter
disadvantage. A puny assailant might overcome a giant in this manner if
he were quick enough. The man had drawn his arms behind him, and was
pounding him in the back with his knees.
"Lay hold of him, Chuck!" shouted the assailant, out of breath. "What
are you about?"
"I am getting the rope ready," replied the other, as the first one
succeeded in bringing Dory to the ground. "Hold on to him, Angy, and I
will soon fix him so that he will keep quiet."
Dory struggled till he found that resistance was useless; and then he
submitted, though his spirit chafed violently at the necessity. He
realized that he was only one against two, taken by surprise at that,
and he could do nothing. He lay upon the wet ground till his captors had
bound his arms behind him, and then they assisted him to his feet.
The prisoner had done a great deal of thinking during the last hour or
more, and, so far as he was personally concerned, he had done it for
nothing. The situation was decidedly unfortunate for him, and he could
not help thinking that the marauders were making it worse for
themselves.
As soon as they had lifted Dory to his feet, one of them gave a
prolonged whistle upon some instrument. There were two of them at the
shore, and the prisoner was confident there had been no more than two in
the office. If there had been three who passed over the road, he could
not have failed to discover their tracks. He had looked in several
places, and always with the same result; and he concluded that one of
the party had remained with the boat while the others went to "make the
break."
By this time it was perfectly evident to Dory that the lantern in the
road was a decoy,--a trick to make the pursuers believe that the robbers
had returned to the vicinity of Beech Hill. Unhappily for him, the plan
had been successful, and he had fallen into the trap. But the marauders
had reached the shore where their boat awaited them, and there had been
nothing to prevent them from embarking. In the darkness they could
easily have made their escape. Dory was unable to explain the action of
his captors in this respect.
"We are all right now," said one of the burglars, when they had bound
the prisoner. "Do you suppose Mack heard that whistle, Angy?"
"Of course he did, Chuck," replied the one addressed as Angy.
"The wind makes a tremendous noise," suggested Chuck. "I will walk up to
that road, if you like, and see if he is coming."
"We are in no hurry, for we can't get out of this bay. It is blowing a
hurricane," added Angy.
"But Mack may get into hot water if he goes too far in that direction.
They have rung an alarm-bell, and the whole town will turn out: there
will be a crowd of them this way before long."
"All right, then: go up to the road, for that light may give them a clew
to us," added Angy.
Chuck started up the cart-path, and there was now light enough for him
to see his way so that he could move at a rapid pace. Dory looked about
him, and strained his muscles a little to ascertain the strength of the
cords with which he was bound. It was still too dark for him to see the
face of the robber remaining with him; and if he had seen him, he would
not have recognized him, for he had not seen him face to face before.
Chuck was not gone ten minutes before he returned with Mack, who had
used the dark-lantern in the road. They came back in a hurry, and both
of them seemed to be in a flurry. If they were professional burglars,
they certainly lacked the coolness of long practice. The dark-lantern
had been put out, and Dory could not see the faces of any of the trio.
"They are after us!" exclaimed Mack, with no little trepidation in his
manner.
"Of course they are after us," replied Angy, who appeared to be the
chief of the party. "The whole neighborhood will be out, for they rung
that bell long enough and loud enough to wake the dead. But we are all
right now, and you needn't vex your gizzard about any thing."
"But it is daylight, and it will soon be light enough to show us up to
all the world," added Mack.
"Dry up, Mack! I am running this machine, and I shall see you through,"
replied Angy sharply.
The leader took the prisoner by the collar of his coat, and led him to
the boat, which the wind had driven back to the beach. He was placed in
the bow, while Angy seated himself in the stern. The other two took the
oars, and the boat was shoved off.
CHAPTER VII.
THE EFFECTS OF THE EXPLOSION.
Captain Gildrock seemed to sleep the sleep of the just while he was
still in the flesh, for he did not immediately appear at the office, as
Dory expected. The mansion was some distance from the scene of
operations. He heard the earliest peals of the bell on the dormitory;
but, unfortunately, Mrs. Dornwood had also heard it, and had been
terribly excited by it. The explosion had roused her from her slumbers,
though the distance made it less effective at the mansion than at the
dormitory.
The good lady was almost in hysterics; and it had taken the captain some
time to quiet her, though at last he was able to leave her in the care
of Marian. She was sure that the students would all be burned to death,
her son among them; for the idea of any other calamity than fire, had
not occurred to them.
Captain Gildrock had not heard the explosion; and the ringing of the
bell had assured him that no one would be burned to death, though he
found it very difficult to make his sister comprehend the absurdity of
her fears. He looked out of the window as soon as he left his bed; and,
as he could see no light, he was satisfied that the fire had not yet
made much progress.
He was a man of discipline, and had trained the students to fire-duty.
His sister had mentioned the explosion, but she could not tell any thing
about it, except that it was a loud noise. The principal hastened from
the house as soon as he could leave Mrs. Dornwood, and he expected to
discover the light of the fire as soon as he reached the main avenue
that extended through the grounds.
He saw nothing to throw any light on his path, or on the cause of the
alarm. When he reached the shops, he found a crowd there, and realized
that he was about the last one to reach the scene of the disturbance.
There was no fire, and this fact stimulated his curiosity. The bell was
to be rung at night, only in case of fire; and it had been pealing out
its notes for some time before his arrival.
The students were, of course, in a blaze of excitement, and the
instructors were hardly less disturbed. But the principal walked into
their midst without any exclamations, with a step hardly more hurried
than his usual pace, and there was nothing in the darkness that, could
indicate the slightest disturbance in his manner. Though he was a cool
man in a trying situation, as his early life on the seas had trained him
to be, yet his stolidity was in some measure assumed. He believed, that,
if a person in authority could not be calm, it was best for him to
pretend to be so, for the benefit of others.
Matt had adopted the suggestion of Dory, and departed in the Marian; but
this was all the movement that had been made to meet the circumstances
of the case. Dory and the boat's crew were the only absentees when the
principal arrived. He looked about him; but he could only see dark forms
around, with nothing but the dull light of the lantern Dory had left on
the doorstone, to assist his vision.
"There seems to be no fire, or even the smell of smoke here," said
Captain Gildrock, as he came into the assemblage in front of the office.
"No, sir: there is no fire," replied Mr. Jepson, who happened to be
nearest to him when he halted. "It is robbery, and not fire."
"Then, no one is in danger," added the principal, perhaps with a feeling
of relief.
"No one, unless it be the students who are looking for the robbers."
"Of course, you heard the explosion, Captain Gildrock?" interposed Mr.
Brookbine.
"I have heard nothing but the ringing of the bell, for I am a sound
sleeper at this time in the morning. What was the explosion?" asked the
principal, as unmoved as though he had been questioning a class in the
schoolroom.
"The safe in the office has been blown up with a dynamite cartridge,"
replied Mr. Jepson. "I should have thought you would hear it, for it
shook all the buildings in this part of the grounds."
"Mrs. Dornwood heard it, but I did not," continued the principal, as he
led the way into the office.
He took the lantern in his hand as he advanced, and then asked the
instructor in mechanics to light the lamps. While he was doing so, the
captain examined the door of the office. It had been bored in several
places around the lock, and then pried open. In the room, all was in a
state of dire confusion. A large portion of the door of the safe had
been blown off, and it was wide open.
"These fellows understood their business," said Captain Gildrock, when
he saw how effectual the explosion had been.
"I think they rather overdid the business," added Mr. Jepson. "The
cartridge must have been three times as big as was needed to blow off
that lock, and that makes me think the burglars had not had much
experience in the use of dynamite."
"They evidently intended to use enough to tear off the door," replied
the principal.
"But they made a noise like an earthquake, when there was no need of it.
It is a wonder to me that they didn't blow the safe all to pieces, and
destroy whatever there was in it."
"As I did not hear it, I am not a competent judge of the power of the
explosion," added the principal, as he proceeded to examine the interior
of the safe.
"I hope the safe did not contain much money," said Mr. Brookbine.
"Over two thousand dollars," replied the captain, with a smile. "I sold
a house here, day before yesterday; and, as I have not been to the bank
since, the entire payment was in the safe, as well as about one hundred
and fifty dollars that was there before."
"Whew!" exclaimed the master-carpenter. "Then, it amounts to a big
loss."
"Big enough, though I shall not be ruined by it," answered the
principal. "I have ten times that amount in bonds in this safe; and here
they are," he continued, as he took a large package of papers from one
of the small drawers, one of which had contained the money. "Either the
robbers did not want the bonds, or they had not time to find them."
"I don't think they had much time to spare after the racket of the
explosion," said Mr. Jepson. "When I got here, the students said Dory
was after the robbers back of the shops; and Randolph was leading a
boat's crew to the lake."
"It looks as though the robbers had seized the money as soon as they got
at it, and did not wait for any thing more. Now, what has been done
here?" asked the principal, when he had got possession of the main
facts.
"Dory and Matt Randolph were the first to come out of the dormitory, and
I think I was the next one," said Oscar Chester.
"Tell me what you know about the matter, Chester," continued the
principal.
"Dory and Matt went to the office, and found it had been broken into,
and that the explosion had come from there. I thought it was an
earthquake. Matt came back after the lanterns just as I came
down-stairs, and I helped him light them. He went out then, and I
followed him. Then he came back, and rang the bell. I took the rope when
he asked me to do so, and he called away a crew for the boat. He told me
that Dory was following the burglars back of the shop, and that he was
to see that they did not get away in a boat. That is all I know about
it, sir."
It was a rather confused statement, though it was correct in the main.
Dory was pursuing the marauders alone on foot, and Matt was patrolling
the lake to prevent their escape by water.
"I am sorry the students did any thing," said Captain Gildrock. "I
should not like to have any of them encounter these villains. Without a
doubt, they are armed, and they will fire if they are in danger."
"Don't you think some of us had better see if we can find Dory, sir? He
may need some help," suggested Oscar Chester, who had been making up a
party to follow Dory when the principal arrived.
"I think Dory will be prudent, and will take care of himself, though he
may get into trouble. I shall send no students to assist him," replied
the principal decidedly. "The boys will not be called upon to chase such
desperadoes as professional burglars must be. But you may take a crew,
and go in one of the four-oar boats in search of Randolph. Tell him to
come ashore."
Oscar departed on his mission, disappointed that he had not been
detailed to re-enforce Dory, and assist in the search.
"I am ready to do any thing that I can," added Mr. Jepson; and Mr.
Brookbine said the same.
"The burglars have simplified the matter to some extent for us," said
the principal, as he seated himself in his arm-chair, as though he did
not intend to fret himself at all about the robbery. "The wind is
blowing a fierce gale on the lake; and I should not send out a boat on
such a night as this manned by the students, or by any one, unless it
was to save life. The rascals cannot escape by water. The stormy lake
shuts them in on that side."
"I don't think I ever knew it to blow so hard as it does to-night,"
added Mr. Jepson.
"If Dory and Randolph come back all right, I shall be perfectly
satisfied, even if the robbers escape with their plunder. All we have to
do is to hem in the land-side of the region about the school, and the
constables then may hunt the burglars at their leisure," continued the
principal. "Now, if you are willing to do so, I should like to have you
go in search of Dory.
"He must have followed the cart-path through the quarries, and crossed
the bridge. I don't ask you to quarrel with the burglars, if you find
them, but simply to send Dory back," said the principal, after a short
period of silence. "Collins!"
"Here, sir," replied the gardener.
"Have Dick harnessed to the buggy, and Kate to the buckboard."
The machinist and the carpenter prepared for the duty assigned to them.
The former put his revolver in his pocket, while the latter took his
rifle. Mr. Brookbine was given to deer-hunting, and knew all about the
Adirondack region, on the other side of the lake. But it was daylight
when they started; and they were too late to find Dory in the road,
where he had remained so long.
They were not even near enough to the scene of Dory's disaster to hear
the whistle the chief of the burglars had sounded, or to see the light
carried by Mack in the road. The light was the engine of Angy's
strategy; and the open part of the dark-lantern was turned in the other
direction, for the benefit of Dory. But Mack had heard them in the
distance; for the two men had been shouting, to inform Dory of their
approach.
Professor Bentnick and Mr. Darlingby were sent to one part of Genverres
to procure the aid of a couple of constables, while the principal
notified two other men who were deputy-sheriffs. He visited the
telegraph-office, and left several messages, to be sent to Burlington,
and to all the towns around that were in connection with Genverres by
wires.
The students were all sent to bed again, but probably not many of them
slept after the excitement of the early morning. Matt and his party were
discovered by Oscar Chester while they were patrolling the shore,
without having obtained a sight or a sound to encourage them. They
obeyed the order of the principal; though they were satisfied that the
robbers had not been on Beechwater, or the creek above it.
At five o'clock all the students except Dory were in their beds.
CHAPTER VIII.
SOME DIFFERENCES OF OPINION.
Dory Dornwood had seen the La Motte when she was lying in the river, and
knew that a party from her had visited the school, though he had not
been near them. He had passed the schooner in the barge, but without
noticing the persons on board of her. Mr. Michael Angelo Spickles was
the chief of the party, and the principal operator in the robbery at the
office of the institution. But the prisoner knew nothing whatever about
him.
The arm of Kingsland Bay where the marauders embarked was less than a
quarter of a mile wide, and the water was almost as smooth as on a calm
day. The bay itself did not average more than half a mile wide; and they
were not likely to experience any rough weather within its limits, as
they were a full mile from the open lake.
The members of the party had not said a word to Dory, and had hardly
noticed him since they finished binding his arms behind him. He was left
to himself, and he had abundant opportunity for reflection. He was not a
little humiliated because he had allowed himself to be captured so
easily, but he could not see how it would have been possible for him to
help himself.
It was useless to consider the past, for it was all gone; and he could
not undo any thing that had been done. He had been captured, and he was
in the hands of the enemy. Mack reported the advance of a party from
Beech Hill, but they were too late to be of any service to him. The
future was a blank to him, and he could only wait for events as they
occurred. But he was satisfied that the boat could not get out of the
bay while the present storm raged.
"We are all right now," said Angy, as the boat receded from the shore in
the gloom of the morning. "We lost all this time on your account, Chuck;
and I shall fine you for it when we divide."
"I don't think I am to blame for it," replied Chuck, who was pulling the
bow-oar, next to Dory.
"You don't think you were to blame!" exclaimed Angy angrily. "Didn't you
speak out loud when we were within a few rods of this chap we have
picked up? Didn't you make it necessary to capture this fellow, so that
he should not see us?"
"Perhaps I made a little noise when I saw the flash of light, but I
didn't say any thing," pleaded Chuck.
"You made noise enough for him to hear you, and to let him know where we
were; and I shall fine you fifty dollars out of your share," added the
chief, as though he were talking to a delinquent schoolboy.
"Perhaps you will: if you do, you will wish you hadn't done it," replied
the culprit, who did not seem to be in a submissive mood.
"Didn't you agree to obey orders, Chuck?" demanded Angy savagely.
"That is just what I have done; and if I was surprised into making a
little sound when that fellow struck a light close to us, I am not going
to be robbed for it," protested the delinquent.
"What are you going to do about it?" growled Angy.
"I can only tell you what I'm not going to do yet: I shall not submit to
being robbed," said Chuck.
It looked a little like a quarrel among the marauders, and Dory hoped he
might be able to derive some advantage from the disagreement. But they
had said enough to enable him to explain why he had been made a
prisoner. The burglars had evidently kept the run of him since he came
into the road, and they were not willing that any one should know they
had departed by water.
Probably they reasoned that he was alone, because they heard no voices,
for one pursuer would not do any talking. When he lighted the match to
examine the road, he had exposed himself; and then, if not before, the
fugitives saw that they could remove the only one on their track by
making him a prisoner.
The boat pulled out of the arm of the bay, and then followed the shore
on the west side, which entirely sheltered it from the violence of the
blast. But it soon reached a point where the crew could hear the
terrific roar of the storm on the open lake. The effect of the heavy
waves could be felt in the bay, and the boat began to tumble about.
"It is blowing a young hurricane," said Mack, when the roar of the
tempest could be heard in its intensity. "We shall never be able to
reach the vessel. I think we are just beginning to find the rough side
of this scrape."
"None of your croaking, Mack!" added the chief sharply. "We have found
our way out of this bay, and we are all right; and we must be on board
of the schooner before it is light enough for us to be seen from the
shore. I know where we are now."
"Then, you know we are in a tight place," added Mack. "It is light
enough now for you to see that the lake looks like a snow-bank, it is so
covered with foam from the waves. This boat will not live in that sea."
"We shall soon see whether it will or not," said Angy, as he shifted the
helm so as to direct the boat across the entrance of the bay.
The boat was the tender of the La Motte, and was not more than twelve
feet long. It was a sort of yawl, and the four persons in it was a full
freight for it. The sea was heavy at the mouth of the bay, though the
trend of the coast partially sheltered it from the full fury of the
blast.
Skilfully handled, and with her head up to the wind, she would have
stood it very well; but Angy seemed to have a contempt for a fresh-water
lake, and did not believe that any dangerous sea could prevail on its
waters. The lake in a violent storm is worse than the ocean,--a truth he
had yet to learn. He took the sea quartering; and the boat began to
pitch and roll, both at the same time, in a manner that suggested
disaster to Mack, if not to the others.
"This won't do!" shouted he, as a wave drenched him to the skin.
"It will do very well, Mack!" replied Angy, with energy. "You have been
out in a heavy sea before, and you needn't croak."
Mack continued to pull his oar. Five minutes later, the boat took in a
sea on the windward side, which filled it half full. Dory had been wet
through in the first of it, and he was considering the probability of
being drowned with his arms tied behind him so that he could do nothing
to help himself.
"Pull steady!" called Angy, apparently undismayed by the situation, as
he took the bucket in the stern, and began to bail out the boat.
"What's the use of pulling?" cried Mack, though he was sailor enough to
know that the boat was likely to fall off into the trough of the sea if
he ceased to use his oar. "It is getting worse and worse every fathom
you go ahead, Angy."
"I can't help it if it is: we are in for it now, and we can't come about
if we want to do so," replied the chief, who was beginning to have a
little more respect for fresh-water waves.
"We can't stand this," interposed Chuck, who had been nursing his wrath
in silence. "We had better be taken than drowned."
"I don't think so," answered Angy. "I will keep her away a little so
that she will run before it, and we shall do very well. This blow comes
from the southward, and it won't last long."
"It will last long enough to drown the whole of us," shouted Mack, loud
enough to be heard above the roar of the tempest. "If you don't do
something to ease her off, I shall stop rowing."
"If you don't mean to obey orders, Mack, say so; and you know I have a
revolver in my pocket," said the chief.
"And I have another," replied Mack.
"I told you that I was going to let her fall off, and run before it.
What more do you want?" demanded Angy, disgusted at the mutinous conduct
of the oarsmen.
Neither of the rowers said any thing more then, and were evidently
willing to wait for the effect of the change in the course. The boat was
now about half way across the entrance of the bay. It was light enough
to enable the crew to see the opposite shore at the point, where the
waves were rolling on the beach, and piling themselves in great white
masses of foam.
As the boat advanced, the sea became more angry. Before the chief could
bail out the water, the craft took in another wave, and even Angy began
to realize that the boat was in a perilous situation. He gradually
shifted the helm until the boat was running for the shore a considerable
distance from the point.
But the change in the course had wrought no miracle in the situation.
The farther she went from the lee shore on the south, the rougher was
the sea. Though Dory was rather a noted swimmer among the students, the
accomplishment was not likely to be of much service to him with his arms
tied behind him.
"We are not getting out of it a bit," shouted Mack. "Come about, Angy,
and make for the shore on the other side of the bay."
"How can I come about in this sea?" demanded the captain. "You know as
well as I do, that if she gets into the trough of the sea, she will go
over."
"We are sure to go over, as it is; and we might as well try it, and work
towards the lee-shore of the bay," persisted Mack.
"Will you obey orders, or not?" cried Angy savagely.
"No, I won't obey such orders as you are giving!" exclaimed the
mutineer. "I believe you mean to drown the whole of us."
As he spoke, he drew in his oar, which was on the lee-side, for the
skipper had not yet got the boat before it. The tender of the La Motte
fell off into the trough of the sea, and began to roll, as though she
was intent upon spilling her burden into the water. Chuck could not row
after his companion ceased to do so.
"Drop into the bottom of the boat," said Dory, in a low tone, to the
bow-oarsman, as he drew in his oar.
Chuck complied with this request. He evidently regarded this suggestion
as a favor; and, without saying a word, he untied the rope that secured
Dory's arms. He had hardly done so before the boat shipped a sea, and
rolled over.
CHAPTER IX.
UNDER THE LEE OF GARDINER'S ISLAND.
The boat dipped herself half full of water as soon as the two burglars
ceased to pull, and this weight of movable fluid increased her capacity
for rolling. At the next wave she went over, and the four persons in her
were spilled into the lake. All of them hung on to the overturned
tender, though, in the commotion of the waves, it was not an easy thing
to do so.
Two of the party hung on at each side, and the water-logged boat was
steadied a little by their weight. Angy, in spite of the difficulties of
the situation, opened in a savage assault upon his companions, with his
flippant tongue, for their disobedience of orders, declaring that their
conduct had produced the disaster, which was quite true.
"We are no worse off than we were in the boat, and it isn't any wetter
in the water than it was on board of her," replied Mack, who had caused
the mischief. "I had rather be here than in the boat off that point,
where you were trying to take us."
"I shall fine you both for disobedience of orders," growled Angy.
"That will make two fines saddled on me; and I suppose you mean to rob
me wholly of my share," added Chuck, as he emptied his mouth of the
lake-water, which had dashed in when he opened it.
"I don't submit to any fine because I wouldn't let you drown me," added
Mack.
"I think it is more comfortable here than it was in the boat," said
Chuck. "The wind is driving us to the shore, and we shall be on the land
in a few minutes."
"How did that fellow get loose?" demanded Angy, when he discovered that
Dory was holding on at the boat, like the rest of them.
"I let him loose when I saw that the boat was sure to be upset. I
suppose that is another fine," replied Chuck.
"We shall be in hot water instead of cold, now," said Angy, who was
certainly realizing the full benefit of having a mutinous crew.
"I didn't mean to let him drown, as he would when he couldn't help
himself," added Chuck. "I will tie him up again as soon as we get to the
shore."
"It is no use to go on an expedition with such fellows as you are; and I
will never do it again," said Angy bitterly.
The boat seemed to be making quite as much progress with the crew on the
outside of it, as she had when they were on the inside. A little later,
Chuck, who was at the bow of the boat, declared that he felt the bottom
with his feet. At that moment a big wave struck the boat, and drove them
on the beach.
"Hold on to the boat!" shouted Angy. "Pick it up, and carry it up on the
shore! It will be smashed on the gravel, if you don't."
The party took hold of the tender, and dragged it towards the land.
Before they could get it out of the water, the big waves knocked them
off their feet several times, and piled them up in a heap. The boat
pounded heavily on the gravel; and if it had not been well built, it
would have had some holes knocked in the bottom. But, after a desperate
struggle with the elements, they succeeded in getting out of the reach
of the waves.
The moment the party stood on the beach, Angy threw himself upon Dory,
and brought him down. As before, he had taken him behind. Several times
the chief had called upon him to assist in dragging the boat out of the
water, but the prisoner felt that it would be treason to society to
assist in saving the tender. He made no reply, and Angy swore at him as
a pirate would have done. All the party were panting from the violence
of their exertion, and Dory had not expected an attack before they
recovered their breath.
The leader was stimulated by wrath more than by a desire to secure the
safe retreat of his party, and he handled his prisoner very roughly.
Hardly able to breathe, he kicked his victim, and pounded him with his
fist. Dory was not in a situation to resist, and his arms were soon
bound behind him.
Bluff Point, on which they had been driven by the fury of the storm, was
not more than an eighth of a mile across at the place where they were.
Angy, as soon as he had fastened his prisoner to a small tree, started
to walk over to the water on the other side. He was gone but a few
minutes.
"We haven't any time to lose, fellows," said he. "We must carry the boat
across this point to the water."
"Carry the boat!" exclaimed Mack. "It weighs half a ton!"
"Do you prefer to go around that point?" asked Angy, with a sneer, which
it was not light enough to see.
"Of course we can't go around the point, for the sea is awful there,"
replied Mack, in a more subdued tone. "Why can't we stay where we are
till the storm subsides a little?"
"And let old Squalipop send a squad here to capture us! Is that your
idea?" asked the chief.
"Not exactly. They will not be likely to come here to look for us. This
fellow did not go back to tell him that we had come this way. How heavy
is the boat?"
"It is not very heavy, and three of us can carry it well enough,"
answered Angy. "If that fellow would take hold and help us, it would be
a light load for four of us."
"Perhaps he will," added Mack. "Will you, my lad?"
"I will not," replied Dory firmly.
"Why not?"
"I will not assist in your escape after you have committed a crime," the
prisoner explained.
"What is your name, my boy?" asked Chuck.
"Dory Dornwood."
"Dory Dornwood!" exclaimed Angy, with no little astonishment. "I heard
Matt tell all about you last summer, and I don't need any introduction
to you. He said you could whip your weight in wild-cats, and would die
of thirst before you would drink a glass of beer."
"I am not a fighting character," added Dory.
"I should say not! I have handled you twice; and I don't know that I
should have dared to touch you if I had known who and what you were,"
chuckled the leader. "But let us take hold of the boat, and see what we
can do with it."
"Won't you give us a lift, Dory?" asked Chuck. "I did you a good turn in
the boat."
"I cannot do any thing to assist in your escape, though I should be glad
to reciprocate your kind act," replied the prisoner.
"It's no use to waste words with him," interposed Angy. "He is the
paragon of that school, and goes to the Sunday school."
They raised the boat from the beach, and Mack declared that it was not
half as heavy as he had supposed. They rested several times, and carried
it to the water on the other side of the point without any great
difficulty. Angy returned for the prisoner as soon as they had put the
boat into the lake, and conducted him to it. He was put in the bow,
where he had been before.
The water was sheltered by the point; and though it was rough anywhere
on the lake, it was smooth compared with its condition outside of the
bluff. It was just a mile from Bluff Point to Gardiner's Island, beyond
which Dory discovered the two masts of a vessel anchored there. He had
already heard enough to assure him that the burglars had composed the
crew of the schooner which had anchored in Beaver River. A portion of
them had visited the school, and in this way had obtained some knowledge
of the premises.
"This storm won't last much longer," said Angy, as he looked out on the
stormy lake. "The wind is hauling more to the westward."
"What's the reason we can't stay here a while, then, and wait till the
sea isn't quite so rough?" asked Mack, who evidently did not like the
looks of the water between the point and the island, smooth as it was
compared with the open lake.
"How long do you suppose it will be before the men you heard in the road
will be down this way?" demanded Angy, with his chronic sneer.
"They may not be here at all. They will take it for granted that we
don't go out on the lake in this weather; and it is a sensible view to
take of it," added Mack.
"But they were coming this way when you heard them; and you forget the
plan I laid down to you yesterday afternoon," continued the chief, in a
more persuasive tone. "We don't want any one to know that the party who
did this job belong to the schooner. That would spoil all our plans, and
expose us; and this is the last of the jobs we had on our hands."
"All right, Angy," replied Mack, who seemed to be convinced by the
argument. "But if we all get drowned in this scrape, we shall not make
much headway in the fun you have laid out for us."
[Illustration: "I TOLD YOU TO GO ON BOARD THE SCHOONER," ADDED
ANGY.--PAGE 108.]
"The sea isn't very rough off here; and as the wind has hauled more to
the westward, we shall go before it, and keep out of the trough of it,"
Angy explained: and he seemed to be the authority in all nautical
matters.
"Just as you say, Angy. If the boat upsets, as it did before, we shall
be just as comfortable in the water; and the wind will take us just
where we want to go."
The experience of the party in the water seemed to increase rather than
diminish their confidence, for they had learned that the disaster of
swamping the boat was not necessarily fatal. Near the shore the water
was quite smooth, and the leader shoved the tender off. The two rowers
gave way, and the boat moved away from the point. In a few moments it
was in a rough sea; but the chief kept the craft exactly before it
without regard to his destination, and it went along very well.
It was not smooth sailing, and the boat jumped like a galloping horse.
But the rowers were used to pulling in a heavy sea, though they had
never been in one like that of the lake. Dory was sitting with his back
to the course of the boat, and he watched the shore with the most
intense interest. He was sure his uncle would send a party to find him;
though the pursuers might follow the road for many miles, if they did
not resort to the Indian craft which had been of so much assistance to
him.
Before the boat had made a fourth part of the distance it had to
accomplish, it began to rain. It came down in torrents, though it could
not make the party any wetter than they were already. It had rained all
the first part of the night, and now it seemed like a smart shower which
would soon be over.
"This is just the thing we want," said Angy, in cheerful tones, and in
much better humor than he had been at any time before.
"Why is it just the thing? Do you think it will lay the dust?" asked
Mack.
"Not exactly: it will throw the dust into the eyes of the men who are
trying to follow us. The heavy rain is making a thick cloud on the
water, so that they can't see us. You can hardly make out the shore
now," replied Angy.
But the wind blew the rain in the faces of the rowers with so much force
that they could not keep their eyes open much of the time. Assisted by
the gale, the boat drove furiously ahead. Occasionally a sea came in
over the stern, and the skipper had to use the bucket. She soon reached
the island; and when the boat came under its lee, their troubles for the
present were over. The La Motte was pitching violently at her anchor
when they boarded her.
CHAPTER X.
A BATTLE WITH THE ELEMENTS.
The two oarsmen sprang on board of the La Motte, Chuck taking the
painter. The schooner was not anchored near enough to the island to
shelter her entirely from the fury of the blast, and she was making
rather rough weather of it. The tender banged against her sides, and
Angy was in a hurry to get on board.
"Come, Dory!" shouted he to his prisoner. "Heave ahead, and go on
board!"
Dory tried to stand up, but the uneasy motion of the boat prevented him
from doing so successfully. He was compelled to resume his seat as often
as he tried to do so, or he would have been knocked overboard.
"What are you about, you squillypod? Why don't you obey orders? I told
you to go on board of the schooner," added Angy.
"You can see for yourself that it is impossible for me to do so with my
hands tied behind," replied Dory, in his usual calm tones.
"That's so," added Chuck, who stood at the gangway with the painter in
his hand. "No fellow could stand up in that boat with his hands tied
behind him."
"Do you want me to let him loose?" demanded Angy. "Not if I know
myself!"
"All right; have your own way," added Chuck.
"Put yourself on your pins now, Squillypod!" said the chief sharply. "I
am not going to fool all day with you. Get on board of the schooner, and
then you will be out of trouble."
"It is useless for me to attempt to do an impossible thing," replied
Dory. "The bulwarks of the vessel are three feet above the boat, and I
can't step that distance. The only way to get on board is to take hold
with the hands, and climb up. I think you can see that for yourself. I
am willing to go on board, and I would do so if I could. It is
impossible to stand up in the boat."
"Come along and try it, and I will boost you up," Angy insisted.
"He can't do it," added Chuck. "Try to stand up yourself with your hands
free, and you will see how it is, Angy."
"Shut up, Chuck! If you interfere with me again, I will throw you
overboard. I want you to understand that I am in command here, and I
won't let any fellow meddle with my affairs," said the chief angrily. "I
will put another fine down against you."
"All right; fix things to suit yourself!" replied Chuck, as mad as his
superior in rank. "I have had about enough of this thing, if I am to be
snubbed like a school-boy."
As he spoke, he spitefully threw down the rope in his hand, apparently
forgetting that it was the painter of the tender which contained his
chief and the prisoner. A swashing wave at that moment took the boat,
and swept it far from the schooner. Then Chuck realized what he had
done, and he made a spring to recover the rope. He saw the end of it
drag over the bulwarks, and drop into the boiling waters.
"What are you about, Chuck?" demanded Angy, overwhelmed by the
consequences of his subordinate's wrath. "You have turned me adrift."
Chuck understood this as well as his leader, and he had done his best to
recover the painter; but he was as powerless to do any thing more, as
though he had been on the top of Bluff Point.
"I did not mean to let go the painter," shouted he; but this honest
declaration did no good at all.
Angy was alone in the tender with the prisoner. He did not blame his own
unreasonableness in trying to make his companion do an impossible thing,
but he charged all the fault upon his mutinous subordinate. But there he
was, and his associates on board of the La Motte could not do a thing to
assist him. The fierce wind was driving the boat away from the vessel,
and the chief must act at once if ever.
He seized the oars with a sort of desperation, as the serious nature of
the situation impressed itself on his mind. He seated himself on the
after thwart, and shipped the oars. The tender had begun to drift stern
foremost; and she had already whirled round once, as the waves lifted
her almost out of the water. The boat was too wide to permit one to row
two-handed with ease, and he had to do his work under a decided
disadvantage.
His first effort was to get the boat head to the sea, and he had nearly
swamped her in his struggle to do so. But he succeeded in the end,
though the tender was half full of water when he got her about. Then he
began to pull with all his might. He certainly made a plucky and
determined attempt to get the better of the elements, though the result
could not be foreseen.
The weather was warm and muggy in spite of the gale, which some
experienced skippers on the lake called a hurricane; and the
perspiration poured in great drops from the face of the desperate
burglar. The rain still fell in sheets, and in a short time the cloud
would cover the water so that he could not see the vessel or the island.
Angy worked as though his salvation in this world and the next depended
upon his success.
Dory was unable to determine whether the accident to the boat was to be
a chance or a mischance to him. The boat was half full of water; and if
the burglar lost his pluck, and gave up rowing, the tender would fall
off into the trough of the sea, and probably capsize again. With his
arms bound behind him, he could not well avoid being drowned, though he
felt that he had some chance of saving himself, shackled as he was.
He had lost sight of the island, and the schooner would soon disappear.
He looked behind him occasionally, in order to keep his bearings as long
as there was any thing in sight in that direction. Ahead of him,
although Camp-Meeting Point was less than a mile distant, there was
nothing but the cloud of fog and rain to be seen. He was especially
interested to know whether or not the burglar was making any progress
towards the schooner. He had lost sight of the island, which he could
see when the rower was getting the boat about; and, as the vessel was
seen less distinctly than when he began to pull ahead, he concluded that
he was losing instead of gaining.
The drops of rain and sweat poured from Angy's face as he struggled with
the oars. Dory admitted to himself that the rower handled his implements
skilfully; but he did not believe any man could make headway against
such a sea, which had considerably increased in force as the boat went
farther from Bluff Point.
It was soon evident to Dory that the powers of Angy were failing him.
Through the spray that beat against the bow of the tender, and dashed
over him, he looked for the schooner, which was almost out of sight. It
was clear enough now, if it had not been so before, that the tender was
losing ground. The strength, and perhaps the pluck, of Angy were giving
out.
Dory watched the face of the chief with increasing interest when the
result of the battle with the elements was no longer a problem to him.
Angy was breathing rapidly, for he had well-nigh exhausted the reservoir
of his breath. The observer came to the conclusion that he had given up
the struggle, and was simply pulling to prevent the tender from falling
off into the trough of the sea. Gradually he remitted his exertions,
until he did only enough to keep the boat's head up to the sea. Dory
could easily realize that he was considering what he should do.
It did not look as though he could do any thing. Relieved by moderating
his efforts, he recovered his breath, and slowly improved his condition.
Dory was behind him; though the oarsman turned his head often enough to
enable him to see his face, and judge what was passing in his mind. When
Angy had in some measure recovered his powers, he turned more than he
had at any time before, and took a look at his prisoner. Dory was making
himself as comfortable as he could, though this is saying very little.
"See here, Squillypod! I want you to come into the stern of the boat,
for she is down too much by the head," said he, without suspending his
labor at the oars. "Work yourself aft, feet foremost, and don't try to
stand up."
This order looked as though the burglar intended to resort to some new
expedient. Any thing for a change was satisfactory to Dory, and he
obeyed the order. With his foot he removed the forward thwart, on which
the second rower had been seated, and then worked himself past it, on
the bottom of the boat.
"Now stop where you are," said Angy, as soon as he reached his seat.
Dory obeyed, and remained seated in the bottom of the tender, directly
behind the rower. Then, not a little to the astonishment of the
prisoner, Angy began to untie the cords which bound him. He did the job
by fits and starts, being obliged to use one or the other oar
occasionally to keep the boat from falling off. But he finished the
task, and Dory found that he was free; and it was a delightful sensation
to be able to change the position of his arms.
As soon as he was released, without waiting for any order from the
burglar, he moved aft to the stern-sheets of the boat. While he was
doing so, Angy shifted to the forward thwart, keeping the oars at work
all the time, with hardly a moment's intermission.
"Now take the other oar, Squillypod!" said the chief, in imperative
tones.
"Where are we to go?" asked Dory.
"Where are we to go! None of your business where we are going! Obey my
order, or it will be the worse for you!" returned Angy.
"If you are going to the shore, I will pull the other oar: if you are
going back to the schooner I will not pull a stroke," added Dory.
"Won't you?" howled the robber, with an oath which was colder to the
prisoner's blood than the angry elements. "I will see if you won't! I am
going to the schooner, and you are going to pull that oar!"
As he spoke, he drew a revolver from his hip-pocket. Dory did not like
the looks of this implement; but he could not assist the burglar to
escape, and he took no notice of it. Angy raised the weapon hastily, and
pulled the trigger. It was soaked with water, and did not go off. Dory
did not wait for a second trial, but threw himself on the robber.
CHAPTER XI.
THE TURNING OF THE TABLES.
Dory Dornwood had made no promises in order to procure his release from
the bonds with which he had been secured, and he felt free to fight his
way out of the scrape into which he had fallen, if he could. Mr. Michael
Angelo Spickles had looked, talked, and acted as though he regarded his
prisoner with the utmost contempt.
They did not live in the same moral atmosphere, in the first place; and
the leader of the robbers had heard something of the prowess of Dory
from Matt Randolph. By taking him in the rear, he had twice overcome
him, and tied his arms behind him. Perhaps the fact that he had been
able to do so was the most direct source of his contempt. He went to
Sunday school, as Angy described his general character; and he did not
believe that a lamb of this sort could be a lion when the occasion
required.
Angy had been perfectly sure that the exhibition of his revolver would
reduce the prisoner to complete subjection if he proved to be refractory
after he had released him. He had not intended to shoot him, when he
snapped the weapon at him, for he knew something of the consequences of
such a murderous act. But Dory did not "scare" as readily as he had
supposed he would, and the fact that he was a Sunday-school scholar did
not make a coward of him.
As soon as the revolver missed fire, Dory decided not to wait for a
dryer cartridge to explode. The boat was jumping on the waves at a
furious rate, and was in the act of falling off into the trough of the
sea when Angy made his demonstration with the pistol. To prevent this,
he had attempted to use his oars. Dory made a long spring, and threw
himself on the chief of the burglars.
He came down upon him like a heavy body dropped from some point
overhead. The thwart on which Angy was seated slipped out of its place
under the concussion, and the two combatants came down in the bottom of
the boat. Dory seized his intended victim by the throat, and contrived
to get his legs on the arms of the fallen leader. Then he choked him
with all his might as he struggled to free himself from this fierce
embrace.
The boat fell off into the trough of the sea, and the water poured in
upon them. Dory saw, that, if the affair was not finished very quickly,
the conclusion of it would have to be reached in the water, with no boat
under him. But no human being could stand the amount of choking
inflicted upon Angy, and he soon weakened under the punishment. With a
sudden movement, Dory turned him over on his face, and crowded his head
down into the water in the bottom of the boat.
The rope with which Dory had been bound was within his reach; and, as
soon as the resistance under him would permit, he grasped it with one
hand, while he held the victim with the other. Angy realized what he was
doing, even while his breath was bubbling in the water under him; and he
made his last effort to shake off the Sunday-school scholar. But he was
too weak to accomplish any thing, and he had to give up the battle.
It was the work of but a moment for Dory to tie his arms behind him,
though he did it in the most thorough manner. He picked up the revolver,
and put it in his pocket. Then he dragged the fallen chief to the
stern-sheets, and dumped him in the bottom. The tables had turned, and
the leading spirit of the Nautifelers Club was the prisoner. He was
utterly exhausted by his choking and his useless struggles, and he lay
catching his breath where his conqueror had thrown him.
Dory realized that he had no time to spare, if he intended to get the
boat to the shore right side up. He sprang to the oars, and brought the
tender around before the wind. He was too tired himself to row, and he
simply kept the craft from getting into any dangerous situation. With
one hand he bailed out the boat, while he used an oar with the other.
Angy was rapidly recovering from the effects of the battle, and he
worked himself into a sitting position. Then he looked about him, and
especially at the stalwart young man in front of him, whose prowess he
had held in contempt. He did what Dory had done a dozen times while he
was a prisoner,--he essayed to test the strength of his bonds; but they
had been adjusted by one who was skilled in handling rigging. He said
nothing, but the situation looked very bad to him. The Sunday-school
scholar was not an infant, and Angy was willing now to believe what Matt
Randolph had told him about the paragon of the school.
Dory bailed out the boat till it was comfortable in her, and then he
hastened the progress of the craft by the use of the oars. It still
rained in torrents, but there was a light in the east which indicated
that it was the "clearing-up shower." Looking behind him, Dory
discovered the land, and felt something like Columbus on another
occasion. He knew just where he was; and he changed the course of the
tender, in order to make a little cove.
Before he could get to the shore, the rain ceased, and the mist cleared
off from the surface of the water. Suddenly the hurricane seemed to
subside. The clouds, which had been dense and black overhead, began to
break. It ended, like all storms in this locality which come from the
south, as abruptly as it begun.
The La Motte could be seen quite distinctly, for she was hardly a mile
distant. The four robbers on board of her were hoisting the foresail,
which looked as though it had been reefed; and they were evidently going
in search of their lost chief. Dory was happy enough to smile, and he
did smile; for he was out of the reach of any pursuers in a large
vessel. The wind had greatly abated its violence; and Dory had been
obliged to pull some distance from his former course, in order to make
the creek. But the water was shallow around him, and the schooner could
not come near the land.
The inlet was the mouth of a brook, and he pulled some distance into it.
When he came to a good place to land, he leaped ashore, and hauled up
the bow out of the water. Without a small boat, it was simply impossible
for the crew of the La Motte to follow him, even if they succeeded in
finding him.
Dory was tired enough to seat himself on a rock, and recover his
exhausted powers. He had a prisoner, and a resolute one, and he must get
him to the school in some manner. It was likely to be hard work. He took
Angy's revolver from his pocket: he wiped the water off its barrels and
stock. Then he examined the cartridges. They were metallic, and ought
not to be affected by the water. Aiming at a small tree, he discharged
one of the barrels, and found it went off as well as it would if it had
not been in the water.
"That shooter served me a bad turn," said Angy. "I never knew it to miss
before."
"It served me a good turn if you aimed at me when you tried to fire it,"
added Dory. "However, it seems to be in condition to be useful to me if
I have occasion to use it."
Its present possessor put it back into his pocket. He resolved to manage
his case so well that he would have no occasion to use such a deadly
weapon, and he shuddered at the very thought of firing at a human being.
"You have got ahead of me, Dory," continued Angy, bestowing a searching
look upon his captor. "Chuck ruined me when he threw that painter
overboard."
"In a moral point of view, that act may be your salvation," added Dory.
"I don't think I care about hearing any Sunday-school talk on this
subject," replied Angy, with a scornful look on his face. "The time has
not yet come for my punishment."
"Not just yet; but after you have thought of this thing for three or
five years in the State prison, you may come to the conclusion that the
Sunday school is not a bad institution for a fellow like you. If you had
attended one, and given heed to its instructions, you would feel a good
deal better than you do now."
"I say, Dory, can't we fix this thing up now?" asked Angy.
"Certainly we can; and that is just what we are going to do," replied
Dory cheerfully. "I am only waiting a little while to rest. Then we will
fix it up."
"You are a good fellow, or you could not have got the upper hands of
me."
"Then you must be a good fellow, or you could not have rendered me the
same service."
"I don't think you understand me," continued Angy uneasily. "I suppose
you like money, if you do go to Sunday school."
"I don't object to money: at least, I have no grudge against it."
"That's sensible; and I will give you a thousand dollars in cash on the
spot, if you will go home without me. Just untie my arms, and let me
pull off to the schooner, and it will be all right. You can go on the
biggest temperance spree you ever heard of on that sum," said Angy
earnestly.
"Spot cash?"
"Spot cash."
"You carry a good deal of money about with you, I see."
"I happen to have it with me. You can take the money, and old Squalipop
will be none the wiser for what you have done."
"Won't he?"
"Not a bit of it! I shall get out of the way, and he won't know that you
and I have met."
"But I shall know it myself, and that will be just as unfortunate as
though he knew it."
"You can go back with a thousand dollars in your pocket, which will come
handy during vacation."
"Go back with a thousand dollars in my pocket," repeated Dory, as though
he was musing over it. "A thousand dollars is a good thing to have, and
it is twice as good to have two thousand. I don't think I shall be
satisfied with one thousand. But I think you had better come on shore,
Angy. I won't ask you to do an impossible thing, and I will help you."
Dory took the robber by the collar of his wet coat, and assisted him to
the shore. Angy made no resistance, though he evidently did not like the
proceedings of his captor. Dory seated him on a rock, and Angy continued
to argue in favor of the arrangement he had proposed.
"Do you really carry a thousand dollars about you? I have my doubts; and
if you have no objections, I should like to satisfy myself on this
point," continued Dory; and as he spoke, he proceeded to make an
examination of the pockets of his prisoner.
"But I do object!" protested the prisoner, as he sprang to his feet with
an effort, and began to whirl about like a top. "Don't put your hand on
me!"
"Be calm and gentle, Angy," replied Dory, as he took the prisoner by the
collar, and tripped him up, so that he was forced to lie down, in spite
of himself.
With his foot on the form of his victim, Dory thrust his hand into all
the pockets of Angy; and from the one inside of his vest, he drew out a
pocket-book, thoroughly soaked with water. He opened it, and found a
roll of bank-bills, which had been hastily tumbled into one of the
pockets. He unrolled the bills enough to find four five-hundred-dollar
notes, which assured him that the money had been taken from his uncle's
safe.
"I will keep this pocket-book for you," said he.
The prisoner was furious, and began to kick at his captor.
CHAPTER XII.
DORY DORNWOOD RESORTS TO STRATEGY.
"Do you mean to rob me, Squillipod?" demanded Angy, and he kicked away
at the legs of his conqueror. "Is this a Sunday-school accomplishment?"
"I said I was going to keep the money for you. Besides, as I said
before, it is better to have two thousand dollars than one thousand,"
replied Dory, with his usual good nature.
"But you are stealing it from me!" gasped the angry robber.
"You appear to have forgotten where you got this money, Angy."
"That is nothing to do with it. What is mine belongs to me."
"All right; and it belongs to me just now."
"Do you mean to rob me of my money?" demanded the vanquished chief, who
did not seem to be capable yet of realizing his situation.
"Not exactly; but if you insist upon using that ugly word, I am only
going to rob you of what you stole from my uncle," replied Dory, as he
put the pocket-book into the inside of his vest.
Without another word, the desperate chief rushed upon Dory, and made an
effort to upset him by lying down upon him, and kicking his shins. Of
course he could not accomplish any thing, though he made his captor
dance a jig in his attempts to escape the savage kicks of his prisoner.
But he was soon tired of this fruitless labor, and he stood still again.
It looked as though he had just begun to understand that Dory was in
earnest, and that he had lost the battle. Both of them looked at each
other, and then out upon the lake, which could be seen across the neck
of land.
The La Motte had got up her anchor, and under a reefed foresail was
standing towards the shore. When Angy saw her, he gave a yell that could
be heard half a mile. His companions heard him, and immediately headed
the schooner in the direction from which the cry had come. One of those
on board gave an answering yell.
"It is useless to wait for her," said Dory, who would not have denied
that he felt some anxiety.
"I think I shall wait for her," replied Angy.
"You will have to wait till the end of the year, then; for that schooner
will be aground in less than five minutes if she keeps on that course."
One of the burglars was at the bow, sounding. The vessel was within the
eighth of a mile of the shore. Suddenly she came about, and the anchor
was let go. They had found they could come no nearer to the shore. Then
they began to shout the name of Angy.
"I think we won't wait here any longer," said Dory, placing his hand on
the collar of his prisoner.
"I think we will," replied Angy, as he began to kick again.
Dory was obliged to knock him down again. Taking hold of his coat-collar
with both hands, he dragged him away from the inlet. By taking frequent
rests, he succeeded in moving him out of hailing-distance of the
schooner, though he could just hear the yells of the robbers on board of
her. Angy did not yell any more. The mode of transportation adopted by
Dory was not an agreeable one, and Angy promised to walk if his captor
would allow him to get up.
"You have knocked the skin all off my legs," said he, as Dory assisted
him to rise.
"I want you to understand that I am going to take you to the Beech Hill
Industrial School, Angy, and if you get hurt on the way, it will be your
own fault," said Dory impressively.
"I can't stand being dragged like a dead snake, and I will walk,"
answered Angy. "But you don't mean that you are going to hand me over to
old Squalipop?"
"I am going to hand you over to Captain Gildrock, the principal of our
school."
"But this was nothing but a lark on the part of our fellows, the members
of the Nautifelers Club. We are up here to have some fun; and you ought
not to make a serious thing of it," said Angy, trying to be amiable
again.
"Blow up a safe in the night, and take over two thousand dollars from
it, and that is nothing but a lark! You can present that argument to the
principal; and he will hear it, for he is not deaf. What's that? I heard
voices," said Dory, looking about him.
Dory was a little alarmed; for it occurred to him that the other
robbers, or some of them, had swum ashore. He listened, and heard the
voices again; but it came the wrong way to be from the crew of the
schooner. A moment's reflection assured him that it must be some party
from the school. Then he shouted, and received an answer to his hail. It
sounded like the voice of Mr. Jepson.
Dory resumed his march with the prisoner. He began to feel as though he
was getting out of the woods. In a few minutes more he saw the engineer
and the carpenter hurrying towards him. Angy could not help seeing them
also; and he breathed a sigh, which was perhaps the knell of his hopes,
if he had had any hopes.
"What have you got there, Dory?" called Mr. Brookbine, as soon as he
discovered the prisoner and his custodian.
"One of them," replied Dory.
"Where is the other one?" asked Mr. Jepson.
"The other four are off on the lake, on board of that schooner which
came into the river yesterday. I am glad to see you, for I am very
tired," said Dory.
As he spoke, he seated himself on a log. In as few words as possible he
related what had occurred, and described his conflict with his prisoner.
Angy could not help putting in a few words to explain how he happened to
be beaten.
"We have examined the shore so far, and were following the road when we
heard shouting in this direction," said Mr. Jepson.
"It was the voice of the prisoner, hailing his companions on board of
the schooner. I shouted as soon as I heard you," replied Dory.
"It is all right, then; and we have nothing to do but take this fellow
back to the school," added Mr. Brookbine.
"Can't you do that alone, Mr. Brookbine?" asked Dory. "I brought him so
far alone."
"Certainly I can," replied the carpenter. "I think we shall find a team
as soon as we reach the road. There must be other parties out before
this time, for Captain Gildrock sent to all the officers in town. I will
send some of them over here."
"Don't do it, if you please, Mr. Brookbine. If Mr. Jepson will stay with
me, we will see where that schooner goes," added Dory.
"The storm is over, and the principal will be up here before long in one
of the steamers," said the machinist.
"You may take this pocket-book to my uncle, if you please, Mr.
Brookbine. It contains all the money taken from the safe," continued
Dory, as he handed it to the carpenter.
"The principal told me he had lost four five-hundred-dollar bills and
some other money," added Mr. Brookbine.
"It is all in that pocket-book."
The master-carpenter took the prisoner by the arm, and marched him off
in the direction he had come, leaving Dory still seated on the log.
After the kickings, after the constrained positions he had been
compelled to keep, to say nothing of the battle he had fought, and the
excitement to which he had been subjected, Dory was almost worn out. But
in half an hour he was well rested, and able to take any step that the
occasion might require.
"But why do you remain here, Dory?" asked Mr. Jepson, after he had given
him more minute details of the experience of the morning than he had
been able to give before.
"I have been remaining here, so far, for the purpose of getting a little
rested, and to wait for the next move on the part of the robbers on
board of the schooner," replied Dory, as he rose from his seat. "We will
go down to the lake now, if you please."
"Are these burglars very desperate fellows?" asked the engineer.
"The fellow Mr. Brookbine has in charge is the worst one; but they are a
hard lot, any way."
The instructor in mechanics took from his pocket the revolver with which
he had armed himself, rather to show that he was ready for an emergency,
than for any other purpose; and Dory was not sorry to see that he was
prepared for the worst that was likely to happen. He had some very
distinct views of his own, though he was not at all inclined to
undertake any hazardous enterprise.
Dory led the way to the inlet where he had left the boat. From this
place they could see the masts of the La Motte. She had anchored off
Camp-Meeting Point, which was in the shape of a pear, with the small end
next to the main land. The La Motte lay on the edge of the shoal which
extended all the way along the shore to Bluff Point. She might have gone
nearer to the shore, but her crew seemed to be afraid to risk it.
Dory asked the instructor to get into the boat, and he pulled down
nearly to the entrance of the inlet. Then they hauled the boat into the
bushes, and landed. Carefully keeping themselves out of sight, they
obtained a fair view of the vessel. Something seemed to be going on upon
her deck. The crew were lowering something into the water.
"What are they doing?" asked Mr. Jepson.
Before he had time to answer the question, one of the burglars shouted
three times, calling "Angy." Dory ran to the head of the inlet, through
the trees, for all the shore was wooded. He expected the call to be
repeated, but he heard nothing for some time. Then he ran in the
direction of the point. Disguising his voice as much as he could, he
called to Mack. The answer came at once, and Dory hastened back to the
entrance of the creek. The burglars had a good right to suppose their
missing leader was on shore at the place where Dory had hailed them.
"They were putting the hatches into the water," said he, when he joined
his companion.
"They have just dropped another into the water, and they are holding
them with lines," added Mr. Jepson. "What are they going to do with
them?"
"They are going to use them as rafts, and they are going ashore to look
for their missing chief. They won't find him," replied Dory, laughing.
"But they will find us," suggested the instructor.
"I don't believe they will; for as soon as they are fairly on the shore,
we will make our next move. There they go! Two of them are going to
leave the schooner; and, according to my reckoning, there will be but
two left on board of her."
They watched the movements of the two men as they embarked on their
floats. The heavy sea had subsided to a great degree, but it was still
rough. One of the rafts soon tipped its man off, and he continued his
voyage by simply clinging to it. The other was soon compelled to resort
to the same expedient.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE ARRIVAL OF MICHAEL ANGELO SPICKLES.
The bell on the dormitory was rung at the regular hour, and every thing
went on as usual at the school. Captain Gildrock had started out all the
officers in Genverres to hunt down the burglars. The engineer and the
carpenter had the start of them, but at breakfast-time nothing had been
heard from them. It was Saturday, and the regular sessions of the school
were suspended on that day; but the order had been given for all the
students to assemble in the schoolroom at eight o'clock.
The excitement had almost entirely subsided, and the only thing that
disturbed the principal was the continued absence of Dory. But Mr.
Jepson and Mr. Brookbine had gone in search of him, and it did not
appear that any thing else could be done. Mrs. Dornwood and Marian were
very anxious about him; and as soon as it appeared that the storm had
subsided, the captain promised to send out all the steamers and
sailing-craft to explore the lake and the eastern shore.
At the appointed hour all the students were in their places, some of
them expecting to hear the principal speak of the burglary, though the
old scholars were not of this number. If there was any exciting topic
not connected with the school current on the premises, Captain Gildrock
usually ignored it. He made the work of the school the main topic, and
never put the routine aside unless for sufficient reasons.
"As the season opens, we are to make the sailing of boats the principal
object of study and practice," the principal began, much to the
disappointment of many of the students, who wanted to know what he
thought about the burglary. "This matter has always been attended to
more or less, though we have never given it special attention till this
season.
"While we shall be obliged to confine our practice in sailing to small
craft, I shall give you some idea of the management of larger craft. In
one of the palaces in St. Petersburg, there is a mast set up, and fully
sparred and rigged, for the instruction of the young Grand Dukes in
seamanship. From this model they learn all the details of the spars,
rigging, and sails; and having learned it on one mast, they apply it to
any other.
"I have already given this information so far as it could be done in a
lecture illustrated with drawings. You have studied these drawings, and
you ought to know the names and uses of the principal pieces of rigging.
I gave you the system by which the names are applied; and at the time of
it, you seemed to have mastered the subject, though you have doubtless
forgotten some of the details.
"But this is not a study-hour, and perhaps it would be better for me to
answer questions, of which you seem to have a full supply on hand at all
times. At any rate, I shall ascertain what you wish to know on this
subject."
Lon Dorset raised his hand, and the principal indicated by a nod that he
might proceed. All eyes were directed towards him.
"I wish to know if there is ever a square-sail rigged with a gaff on the
mizzen-mast of a brig, above the spanker,--a sail set like the mainsail
of a schooner?" asked the inquirer.
"On which mast?" asked the principal; and there was something like a
suppressed laugh among the old sailors of the school.
"The mizzen-mast, sir," replied Lon confidently.
The old sailors laughed out loud, for it was rather a pleasure to trip
up any one in a nautical blunder.
"There is no such mast in a brig," added Captain Gildrock.
"I beg your pardon, sir; but you told us, in the lecture you gave us on
the different rigs of vessels, that a brig had two masts,--the main and
the mizzen," continued Lon, picking up his note-book, and hastily
turning the leaves.
"I think not, Dorset," said the principal with a smile. "I know better
than that, and I should not be likely to say such a thing."
"Here it is, just as I wrote it down at the time of it," persisted Lon.
"I didn't know any thing at all about such vessels, and I should not
have been likely to put down what you didn't say. 'In a vessel with two
masts, the terms are main and mizzen.'"
About a dozen others began to turn the leaves of their note-books, and
then Dolly Woodford raised his hand. The principal nodded to him.
"I have it down in the same way," said Dolly.
"So have I," added Sam Spottwood.
"Main and mizzen," followed Chick Penny, reading from his book.
Half a dozen of the students said the same thing, after consulting their
notes taken on the spot.
"I have it so, sir; and I thought it was a mistake. I was going to ask
you about it, but I did not get a chance to do so," said Dick Short.
"I shall have to give it up," replied the principal; "and I cheerfully
acknowledge that you are right, and I am wrong. I must have said so,
since you prove that I did. A person sometimes says a thing exactly
opposite from what he means. I must ask you to correct the record, and
write it down, that, in a vessel with two masts, the terms are fore and
main. You mean a square-sail above the spanker on the mainmast of a
brig; though you are not responsible for making it the mizzen, Dorset."
"Yes, sir. I saw a picture in an old book with such a sail on the
mainmast," replied the student.
"I have seen such a sail once or twice in my life at sea; but it is not
common, especially at the present day. The ordinary gaff-topsail, if any
sail is to be set above the spanker on a brig, could present quite as
much surface, and be more easily handled."
Another student raised his hand, and the principal was going to give him
permission to speak, when the door of the schoolroom was opened, and Mr.
Brookbine, rifle in hand, and leading Mr. Michael Angelo Spickles by the
arm, marched into the room. He made his way directly to the platform
where the captain stood. Of course, this arrival made a decided
sensation among the students, though they did not indulge in any
demonstration.
"I beg your pardon, Captain Gildrock, for bringing this gentleman here,
but I could not find any one below to take charge of him while I sent
for you," said the master-carpenter; for he knew that the principal did
not like any thing sensational in the presence of the students.
"You are excusable under the circumstances, Mr. Brookbine," replied the
captain. "Very likely the students will be glad to see the gentleman, if
that is what you call him."
"I suppose that is what he calls himself."
"But where is Dory, Mr. Brookbine?" asked the principal, with more
anxiety in his tones than he was in the habit of displaying when any
thing troubled him.
"He is all right, sir. He has gone with Mr. Jepson to follow this matter
up a little further," replied the carpenter.
Captain Gildrock smiled, for his anxiety was relieved. He turned from
the instructor to the prisoner he had brought, and whose face he had not
noticed before. Possibly it was to some extent an affectation for him to
appear to be unmoved, whatever happened; and he had hardly noticed the
carpenter and his prisoner when they entered the room.
"Good-morning, Mr. Spickles. I see that you have done me the honor to
call again, and I shall endeavor to appreciate your courtesy," said the
captain, when he recognized his visitor of the day before.
"I did not come of my own accord this time, and no compliments are in
order," growled Spickles.
"This visit is quite unexpected. I remember that you seemed to feel a
lively interest in my safe in the office; and you have proved to your
satisfaction that it is not a wooden one," continued Captain Gildrock.
"I must confess that I am greatly surprised to find a young gentleman
with your brilliant ideas engaged in blowing open safes."
"Here is a pocket-book which was taken from him," interposed the
carpenter, as he handed it to the principal. "I did not tell you that
this was the chief of the burglars, but such is the fact."
The captain opened the pocket-book, and took the wet bills from it.
"These were the bills in the safe, without any doubt; and I am fortunate
to recover them. Every dollar stolen is here. You have made a bad
investment, Mr. Spickles."
"The storm was against my side of the question. If it had not been for
that, you would never have seen your money again," muttered Spickles,
who appeared to think that an apology for his failure was due.
"Then, I ought to be grateful for the storm," added the principal. "I
suppose the young gentleman who called with you yesterday assisted you
in this delicate operation."
"I don't answer questions," growled the burglar.
"Perhaps Mr. Brookbine will be more communicative," said the captain,
turning to the instructor in carpentry.
"I don't know much about the others, only from what Dory said to me. He
told me about his dealings with these fellows; and as usual, he has
acted like a hero," replied the instructor.
At this remark, there was a burst of applause, and all the students
manifested the most intense interest in the proceedings. The principal
looked at them, and perhaps he thought it would be cruel not to gratify
their excited curiosity to know the particulars of the capture of the
burglar.
"Mr. Spickles will be more comfortable if you remove the cords that bind
him; and I will invite him to take a seat on the platform by my side,"
continued Captain Gildrock, as he placed a chair for the culprit. "I
trust he will not make it necessary for me to put my hands upon him."
Mr. Brookbine released the prisoner, and put him in the chair assigned
to him. If he thought of escaping, the stalwart forms of the principal
and the master-carpenter were sufficiently formidable to intimidate him.
Mr. Brookbine was then invited to explain what had happened during his
absence, and to do it so that all the students could hear him. The boys
were delighted at this unexpected privilege, and they listened with the
deepest interest to the narrative of Dory's doings since he left the
school early in the morning. When the result of his battle in the boat
with the chief was reached, the students applauded lustily, and the
principal did not check them. With only a little less dignity he would
have done the same himself.
"Then, Dory has gone to look after the schooner, has he?" asked Captain
Gildrock, when the narrative was finished.
"Yes, sir: he and Mr. Jepson left me, to attend to this matter."
"I hope they don't intend to capture the schooner," added the principal,
with a smile. "Dory is a prudent young man, and I don't expect him to
undertake any Munchausen adventures."
"He said he was going to watch the schooner: he did not say he intended
to capture the vessel," replied the carpenter.
"How many persons were there on board of the schooner, Randolph?" asked
the principal.
"Five in all, all members of the Nautifelers Club," replied Matt.
"The Nautifelers Club will not exist much longer. Under the present
circumstances, we will defer the lecture on sailing to another day. The
gale has subsided, and we will attend to the practical part of the
lesson. Randolph, you will take your class in the Lily; Glovering, you
may take Dory's class in his absence; the rest of you will man the two
steamers."
This announcement was received with applause, and Mr. Brookbine was
instructed to take his prisoner to the lock-up.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE RESULT OF DORY'S STRATEGY.
Dory Dornwood and Mr. Jepson watched the movements of the two men on the
rafts as they approached the shore, driven before the strong wind,
though it had ceased to be a furious gale by this time. The La Motte had
swung round with her head to the wind, and the two members of the
Nautifelers Club who remained on board of her had seated themselves on
the taffrail to watch their progress.
"They must understand by this time that something has happened to
Spickles," said the instructor, as they looked out from their
hiding-place in the trees.
"Who is Spickles?" asked Dory, who had not heard the name of the leader
before.
"He is the fellow you call Angy, and his full name is Michael Angelo
Spickles. The two given names appear to have been used to take off the
curse of the homely last name; but Buonarotti is not honored in his
namesake," added the instructor, laughing. "I saw him yesterday when he
called at the school, and Matt Randolph told me something about him."
"I saw the schooner in the river yesterday, but I did not go very near
her. These fellows are a bad lot, and a few years in the State prison
will do them good. I begin to feel as though it were breakfast-time,"
said Dory. "I have had a long tramp this morning."
"I have the same feeling. But what are you going to do, Dory?" asked the
instructor, to whom Dory had not yet explained his intentions, if he had
any.
"I don't know yet: that will depend upon what those fellows do. I should
like to get possession of that schooner and the four fellows that belong
to the gang; and I shall be willing to go without my breakfast for the
sake of doing it," replied Dory. "I should like to sail the La Motte
into Beechwater with these four fellows under the hatches."
"Do you think of doing any thing of that sort?" asked the instructor,
with no little astonishment on his face.
"Not without your consent and assistance, Mr. Jepson."
"That would be a rather bold enterprise, Dory."
"We are only two, and I don't think of fighting them, or any thing of
that sort; though I am ready to lay hands on them if the chances are in
our favor. I don't think they are fighting characters, like the one
already captured."
"But they are not going to give themselves up without some sort of
persuasion."
"We will persuade them, then, if they insist upon it. There are only two
of them left on board of the vessel. By the use of a little strategy, we
can get on board of the schooner. Then we can watch our chances, and do
what the occasion may require."
"Very well, Dory: I will assist you. But your uncle will not care to
have you attack these fellows."
"I don't know that we shall attack them: that will depend upon
circumstances. I handled the chief of the gang, and I am sure I can
manage any one of the others. They are not more than eighteen or twenty
years old, and I am as heavy as any of them."
"Then, I ought to be able to manage the second one," added the
instructor.
"The two who are going ashore cannot possibly get back to the vessel
without a boat; and, no doubt, they count upon finding the one they used
this morning."
"You must be very careful what you do, Dory."
"I certainly shall be; but I can't think of letting these villains
escape, as they may, if we do nothing."
"One of them has reached the shore," said Mr. Jepson.
"And the other will be there in a moment," added Dory, as he rose from
his sitting posture to enable him to see better. "They will make it
their first business to find Angy Spickles. They won't find him, and
they will do a good deal of looking for him before they give him up. We
will not show ourselves for a while,--not till the two on shore have had
time to go some distance from the lake."
The second raftsman landed on the beach all in a heap, and the first one
assisted him out of the water. They dragged their floats out of the
water, possibly thinking they might want them again; though they must be
reasonably sure of finding the schooner's boat.
As soon as they had disposed of their rafts, they started for the point
from which the last call of their leader, as they supposed, had come.
They began to shout as they went into the woods, and in a short time
their voices came to the listeners from a considerable distance.
"Now is our time," said Dory, as he seated himself in the boat, and got
the oars ready for use.
"Shall I take an oar?"
"That will be the better way. When those on board see the boat coming,
they will think it is their two companions, and they will wonder what
has become of Angy," continued Dory.
"But if the fellows on shore see us, they will spoil your little
arrangement," suggested the instructor.
"But they won't see us. How can they see us when they are a quarter of a
mile off in the woods?" argued Dory.
Both of the rowers gave way, and the boat advanced towards the La Motte.
As soon as the two on board of her saw the tender, they left their
places on the taffrail, and went into the waist, where they could obtain
a better view of the boat. It would be an easy thing for them to
recognize the tender, for, like the schooner itself, it was painted
green.
"I am afraid they will recognize us," said Dory, "or fail to recognize
their companions, which amounts to the same thing. I am going to take my
coat off, and tie a handkerchief on my head; and you had better do the
same. It will be some disguise."
This change was made in the appearance of the rowers, and they resumed
their oars. The sea was still heavy enough to require both skill and
strength in handling the boat; but Dory was an expert, and they made
good progress towards the La Motte. The fact that there were only two in
the boat was likely to excite the suspicion of those on board of the
schooner.
"Where is Angy?" shouted one of them, as soon as the boat came within
hail of the vessel.
Dory did not consider it prudent to answer this question; for his voice
was likely to betray him, or at least to assure the burglars that the
speaker was not one of their number. He had been with them for some
time, though he had been silent.
"I think you had better do the talking, Mr. Jepson, for they will know
me," said Dory.
"Wouldn't it be better to do no talking?" asked the instructor.
"We must answer them if they keep hailing us, or they will be
suspicious."
"Have you seen any thing of Angy?" shouted one of the burglars.
"He is on shore," replied Mr. Jepson.
"Why didn't he come off with you?"
"His business was such that he couldn't leave," answered the machinist;
but perhaps they did not hear his reply.
The two burglars seemed to be talking together, and the boat was now
almost near enough to hear what they said. Like all the rest of the
intercourse in the party, it was not entirely harmonious, and they
appeared to be disputing about something. As the boat approached the
schooner, Dory told the instructor what to say.
"One of you go aft, and put the helm hard down, and the other cast off
the main-sheet, or you will drag your anchor, and get aground!" shouted
the instructor, as they came alongside of the schooner.
Dory took it for granted that the hands on board of the La Motte were
not sailors; though he had seen enough of their management of the
schooner to convince him that they were not skilful seamen, to say the
least. Both of the men hastened aft, without appearing to understand
that the order given them was an absurd one. With the painter of the
boat in his hand, Dory leaped on board of the vessel, and Mr. Jepson
followed him.
The mainsail of the schooner was furled, and casting off the main-sheet
could not have the least effect upon her; but one of them cast it off,
and the other was at the tiller. He did not know what "hard down" meant,
as no one would have known when the schooner was at anchor.
"Which way shall I put the tiller?" asked the one who was at the helm.
"That's right as you have it," replied the machinist, prompted by Dory.
While he was making it fast with the tiller-lines, the other one came
into the waist. Dory turned his back to him, regardless of the law of
politeness. The instructor was a stranger to him; but as he came off in
the schooner's boat, he did not seem to suspect that there was any thing
wrong.
"Have you seen Captain Spickles?" he asked.
"Yes: we saw him on shore, but he was not ready to come on board,"
answered the instructor.
By this time Dory had worked himself to a position in the rear of the
fellow, who was rather diminutive in form; and he did not lose an
instant in resorting to the tactics of Captain Spickles himself. Placing
his hands on the shoulders of his intended victim, he raised his right
knee to the small of his back, and brought him down with very little
effort. He had picked up a piece of line before, with which he tied his
arms behind him, even before the one at the tiller had noticed what was
going on.
"What are you about there?" demanded the other, as soon as he saw what
had been done, and hastened to the waist.
"Throw up your hands!" said the machinist, as he brought his revolver to
bear upon him.
The weapon had its effect, and the fellow promptly obeyed the order.
Dory secured him as he had the first one, and the business was finished
without disaster to any one. The prisoners were astonished, and it was
evident that they were inferior in force to the other three.
CHAPTER XV.
UNDER WAY, OR UNDER WEIGH.
Captain Michael Angelo Spickles was delivered to an officer, who
committed him to a cell in the lock-up. The future must have looked very
dark to him, for he was morally sure of spending the next few years in
the State prison. The Nautifelers Club had come to naught. Only the day
before, he had been blackguarding his former friend for not drinking
beer, and for being correct in his moral ideas. To-day he was in
condition to see the folly of his conduct, even from a merely worldly
point of view.
At the Beech Hill Industrial School, as soon as the principal dismissed
the students, the wharf and the boat-house were scenes of intense
activity. Although Captain Gildrock had not the slightest intention of
exposing them to a possible shot from the burglars, many of the pupils
believed they were going out in search of the companions of the chief
who had been exhibited to their wondering gaze in the schoolroom.
The principal was not at all inclined to foster their belligerent
propensities, and he mercilessly ridiculed any thing that looked like a
fight to "see who was the better man." If it was clearly shown that a
boy had fought purely in self-defence, after he had done nothing to
provoke his opponent to wrath, if he did not commend him, he excused
him.
Mr. Brookbine had reported that Mr. Jepson and Dory were watching the
schooner, which was at anchor off Camp-Meeting Point. Four of the five
members of the Nautifelers Club must still be on board of her. This was
understood by all on the place. The principal hoped that Dory would not
do any thing more than watch the La Motte. If he had known just what his
nephew was about, he would have interposed to prevent him from meddling
with such dangerous characters.
Mrs. Dornwood had been in a fever of excitement all the morning; for her
son was absent, and she did not seem to have as much confidence in his
discretion as her brother had. The news that he was safe and unharmed
had been sent to her, as soon as the master-carpenter arrived with the
prisoner; but this comforted, while it did not satisfy, her.
As soon as he left the schoolroom, the principal had driven rapidly to
the town, and procured two deputy-sheriffs, and brought them to the
wharf, where they went on board of the Sylph, the larger of the two
steamers. If any one was to attack the burglars on board of the La
Motte, one or both of these officers were the proper persons to do it,
in the opinion of Captain Gildrock.
The new steamer was about fifty feet long. She had been built by the
students, both hull and machinery, and had been launched as soon as the
ice went out of Beechwater. There had been a great deal of discussion
over the subject of a name for her, as there had been when the name of
Miss Bristol had been given to the "Lily," for the sole reason that she
was a remarkably pretty girl.
When the students came to vote on a name for the new steamer they had
built, after a long discussion, in which all the names of localities on
the lake were mentioned, the vote was almost unanimous for the name of
"Marian." She was goodlooking enough, though not decidedly pretty; but
she was not only the sister of Dory, and the niece of the principal, but
Oscar Chester, the captain of the Sylph, was very partial to her
society.
The new steamer was therefore called the "Marian;" but the act of giving
this name to her robbed the eight-oar barge of her name, or made two
craft at the school with the same name, which would cause confusion. The
name of a river on the other side of the lake, which had been suggested
for the steam-yacht, "Bouquet," had been given to the barge.
The Marian had a regular ship's company, and Luke Bennington was her
captain. All the students were assigned to one or the other of the
steamers, though at the same time they belonged to the sailing-craft.
They were all to be instructed in the management of both steam and sail
vessels.
Dory had taken a fancy the year before to change the Goldwing from a
schooner into a sloop; and though he was satisfied that the alteration
had not been for the better, she still remained a one-masted boat,
because he had not had time to change her to her original condition. The
principal had objected to restoring her at present, because he wanted a
sloop as well as a schooner for purposes of instruction. The Goldwing
carried a large mainsail, and spread even more canvas than when she was
a schooner; but she did not sail a particle faster, as Dory had expected
she would.
Thad Glovering was to take the place of Dory in the Goldwing during his
absence. He was a good boatman, though he rather lacked in dignity when
placed in the position of an instructor. The instruction in sailing had
not been regularly begun, though each of the young teachers in this art
had been out in the boats with his class. The pupils assigned the Lily
and the Goldwing were those who had entered the school at the beginning
of the current school-year.
The senior class had, nearly all of them, all who had any taste for it,
picked up a knowledge of the art. Some of the new ones had a little
skill at it; though all of them needed instruction, and especially
practice. The class in the Goldwing consisted of six besides the
instructor. The boats had been brought up to the wharf, and Luke
Bennington was the first to get under way. He gave the order to do so.
"All ready to get under way," said he.
"I beg your pardon, Captain Glovering"--
"Don't you do it!" interposed the skipper of the Goldwing, with a very
undignified laugh, while there was something like a blush on his brown
face. "I don't want to be captained just because I happen to be here for
once to show you fellows how to handle a boat. Call me plain Thad, as
you always do, if you please; and I will guess all the conundrums you
sling at me, if I can."
"I stand corrected, Thad," added Ash Burton, who had begun to ask the
question. "You spoke about getting under way. Will you please to tell me
how you spell that word?"
"Spell the word 'get under way'? I don't believe I know that word,"
laughed the skipper.
"Excuse me, Mr. Skipper: I meant only the last word in the expression,
though I did not say so."
"Well, Mr. Ordinary Seaman, or Mr. Green Hand, I always spell it w-a-y;
and I confess I don't know any other w-a-y to spell it."
"I do; and I want to know which is the right way, Thad."
"What's the other way, Ash?"
"W-e-i-g-h."
"That's another word."
"The two words are pronounced just alike; and I wish to know which is
the right word to use when you mean to start, go ahead, progress, get
along, go forward, advance"--
"Hold on! You needn't go through the dictionary, for I know what you
mean, Ash."
"It don't make any difference how you spell the word when you simply
speak, for the pronunciation is the same; but I have read in books and
newspapers about vessels being 'under weigh.'"
"That question came up once in the schoolroom, and the principal settled
it for us. There is no dictionary-war on this word; for neither
Worcester nor Webster gives any such definition as making progress to
weigh, while both of them give this as the nautical meaning of way."
"That settles it; but we weigh anchor," suggested Ash.
"We weigh a pound of cheese; but that has nothing to do with the
progress the skippers make inside of it."
"As they weigh the anchor when they are going to start, I suppose that
is where the error comes from," added Ash.
"They couldn't very well start without weighing it; but that is no
excuse for the misuse of the word. But there are plenty of words in
nautical phraseology which are not used according to the dictionary and
grammar, as in all the walks of life," continued Thad.
"Tell us some of them," said Archie Pinkler.
"If we are going out on the lake to catch those burglars, I haven't time
for much of that sort of thing," replied Thad. "The ship was laying to,
though no eggs were found in the water. You lay a book on the table; but
when it is there, it lies, and it don't lay. When you get tired, it is
not the thing to lay down; better lie down, and it will rest you more.
You may lay a ship to; but when you have done it, she is lying to, as
much as though she was also telling a fib. But, be ready to get under
headway, for that is what we mean; and we won't lie here any longer, for
the Lily is just getting off."
"But the Lily lay at the wharf just now," suggested Ben Sinker, rather
timidly.
"But she don't now, and never does. Lay is the yesterday of lie; and
that is where you mix things, Ben. Man the mainsail-halyards. Archie and
Con, take the throat-halyards; Syl and Hop, the throat."
"Ay, ay, sir!" replied Archie.
"Don't be too nautical, my lad; and remember that two-thirds of the
slang used for salt-talk is never heard on board of a vessel. Where are
you going, if you please, Mr. Ay-ay-sir?" asked the skipper, when he saw
Archie go over to the starboard side of the Goldwing.
"I am going to man the throat-halyards, as you told me," replied Archie.
"Do you expect to find them over there? Dory Dornwood rigged this sloop,
and he put things in their right places," added Thad.
"I know about the halyards," said Archie.
"But the question just now with you relates to throat-halyards; and you
have gone over to the starboard side to look for them."
"That's so: I forgot about it."
"Allow me to inform this crew that the throat-halyards are on the
port-side of the mast. Don't try to remember where the peak-halyards
are, for that will make two things to recollect. Throat-port. Only this,
and nothing more. If you try to hold on to the other at the same time,
you will mix them."
"But a fellow wants to know where to find the peak halyards as well as
the throat," suggested Con Bunker.
"Exactly; so he does. After he has found the throat, he must box the
compass, lay the parallel ruler on the deck, count the anchor three
times to make sure of the number, swing six, and cast out nine, and then
go to the other side of the mast to look for the peak-halyards; but I
will bet half a pint of Champlain water against a hogshead of
New-Orleans molasses that he won't find them."
But the two hands designated had found the peak-halyards on the
starboard side of the mast. The sail was set, the bow shoved off, and
the boat began to gather headway. The jib was set; and, as the wind was
still very fresh, the Goldwing heeled over, and darted ahead at a flying
rate. Thad took the helm himself; for Dory had put in a horizontal
wheel, and not one of the class was competent to steer her.
"Now, how many of you fellows know all the ropes in a sloop?" asked the
young instructor, as the boat headed towards the outlet of the little
lake. "There are not a great many things to learn about such a craft as
this, but a fellow has got to know them all over."
"I know them all," added Archie.
"Just as you knew where to look for the throat-halyards," laughed the
skipper.
Thad took a picture of a sloop from his pocket.
CHAPTER XVI.
ON BOARD OF THE LA MOTTE.
Perhaps the principal reason why Dory Dornwood and the instructor in
mechanics had obtained so easy a victory over the two members of the
Nautifelers Club who remained on board of the La Motte, was that both of
them were soaked with beer. They were not intoxicated in the worst sense
of the word: they were "boozy" and stupid.
They had been left on board while the other three had gone on shore to
"do the job" at the school, and, no doubt, the time in the furious storm
hung heavy on their hands. They had imbibed from the keg until they were
deprived of whatever natural energy belonged to them, and they did not
seem to have either the pluck or the ability to do any thing for
themselves. A stronger intoxicant might have made them wild and
desperate: the beer simply stupefied them.
"We have got the vessel," said the machinist, with a cheerful smile, as
he held on to the robber whom he had just secured.
"No doubt of that," added Dory, as he rose from the deck where he had
been attending to his prisoner. "These fellows don't seem to be very
desperate characters."
"I expected a far worse time than we have had," added Mr. Jepson. "What
is the next move? Shall we take them to the school in the vessel?"
"Not yet a while," replied Dory, glancing towards the shore where the
two had landed on the rafts. "We have another job on our hands; but I
think we had better put these fellows where they will not be in our
way."
As he spoke, he assisted the one who was lying on the deck to rise.
Leaving both of them in charge of his companion, he went down into the
cabin. It was a very small apartment, not intended for more than four
persons. On the table in the centre of it was the keg of beer, carefully
secured with blocks, and lashed down.
An open door by the side of the companion-way led into the hold. One end
of it had been roughly prepared with berths, which were provided with
bedding. There were six of these bunks, making sleeping accommodations
for ten persons. An old carpet had been laid on the bottom of the hold,
and Dory was willing to admit that the place was comfortable enough for
a summer-cruise on the lake.
As the club consisted of only five persons, Dory could not imagine why
the vessel had been fitted up, at some extra expense, for double that
number. But he did not wait to indulge in any conjectures on the
subject. The stanchions which had been put up to support the bunks,
afforded what he was looking for; and the two prisoners could be
fastened to them.
The robbers were conducted to this place. They were both under the
influence of the beer, and had some difficulty in maintaining the centre
of gravity over the base. They were sleepy and stupid, and Dory
compelled his man to sit down with his back to the stanchion. In this
position he made him fast, and the machinist did the same with the
other.
Both of them said they were comfortable when the question was put to
them. But they were so tipsy that they had no very definite ideas on any
subject. They submitted with the best grace in the world, and even
seemed to be pleased to find that all their responsibilities had come to
a sudden end; for they were not in condition to attend to any thing.
"What has become of Angy?" asked one of them.
"He could not come on board again," replied Dory. "Who were the two
fellows that went ashore on the hatches of the schooner?"
"Chuckworth and Mackwith," replied the one addressed.
"What is your name?"
"My name is Sangfraw."
"What is your name?" asked Mr. Jepson of the other.
"My name is Wickwood," he answered, with a dazed look around him.
"Did you two go on shore with Angy?" inquired Dory of Sangfraw; and he
was not confident that this was a real name.
"No, we did not: we staid on board, and we have not been on shore at
all. Chuck and Mack went with Angy," replied Sangfraw; and he looked up
into Dory's face, as though he was seeking for some information in
regard to him.
"What was this place, this steerage, fitted up for?" asked Dory.
"For the club."
"What did you want of ten berths?"
"Because there are ten of the members."
"Where are the other five?"
"They were to join us up here somewhere."
"That's it, is it?" added Dory, glancing at the instructor.
"That's it, exactly; and I'm a member of the club, and the cook of the
ship," said Sangfraw, dropping his head as though the effort required to
keep it up was too great for him.
"Where does the La Motte go when she sails?" asked Dory.
"She is going to Ticonderoga after the rest of the club," answered
Sangfraw, rousing himself. "Now, s'pose you tell me where Angy is."
"He is safe enough," said Dory, leading the way out of the steerage, as
he called it, into the cabin. "I fancy that these fellows don't live
without eating, and I think a few mouthfuls would make me feel better."
They examined the pantry, and they found an abundance of ham, cold
chicken, and other food, from which both of the captors of the schooner
made a very satisfactory breakfast. Dory found his condition very much
improved, and his energy revived, by the meal.
"This is decidedly a happy family," said Dory, as they went on deck,
after ascertaining that both of the prisoners had dropped asleep.
"And it seems that there was to be an addition of five persons to the
family. Very likely those on board were to fill up the exchequer of the
club by their operations before the others joined them," added the
machinist. "I wonder if this is the first robbery they have committed. I
have not had time to read the papers much this week."
"By the great iron jingo!" exclaimed Dory, as the suggestion of his
companion stimulated his memory. "I read that two robberies had been
committed in the vicinity of Plattsburg; and the last sentence of the
paragraph was, that no clew to the burglars had been obtained. These are
the fellows!"
"Then, we had better search the vessel," suggested Mr. Jepson.
"Let the officers do that after we have taken her to Beechwater. We
shall have enough to do to take care of these fellows; for I hope we
shall be able to take the other two, Chuck and Mack, with us as
passengers."
"Then, you intend to follow up this matter, Dory?"
"If we don't bag them before they ascertain that Angy has come to grief,
they will leave for parts unknown. The two on shore were actually
engaged in the robbery," continued Dory. "There were two of them in the
office, and the third had charge of the boat. At any rate, they were all
mixed up in the affair."
"The two on shore must have seen the boat when we came off," suggested
the machinist.
"I think not. They went away from the shore, deceived by the hail I gave
them from a point above the inlet. In my opinion, they are still looking
for Angy in the woods, and have not seen any thing on the lake."
"They won't find Angy on shore."
"And when they are tired of looking for him, they will come on board
again, if they can get on board. If they see the boat alongside of the
schooner when they come to the shore, they will at once conclude that he
has gone on board. Whether I am right, or not, I shall act on that
theory, if you approve of it," said Dory.
"I should say that your reasoning was correct as far as it goes. But
when they see the green boat made fast to the schooner, they will want
to know why Sang and Wick have not gone ashore after them."
"Precisely so, and we will provide for that doubt on their part. Now we
will set that reefed foresail, and run down a little nearer to the
point. The water will float this vessel a hundred feet from the shore,"
continued Dory with energy.
The foresail was hoisted, and the anchor weighed. Dory steered to a
certain part of the point, near the outer extremity of it. Both of them
kept a sharp lookout for the two robbers on the shore, but nothing was
seen or heard of them. The La Motte was run as near the shore as it was
prudent to take her; and when she was thrown up into the wind, the
machinist let go the anchor, while Dory hastened to lower the sail.
The wind was fresh, and the sea was heavy; but the schooner did not bump
on the bottom, though she was inside of a hundred feet from the shore.
Dory found the lead and line, and directed the machinist to sound over
the stern when the vessel had brought up to her cable. As he did so,
Dory let off the cable, allowing the schooner to approach still nearer
to the shore. When he secured the cable, the stern was hardly more than
fifty feet from the land.
There was a rather heavy surf rolling up on the abrupt beach, but it was
nothing compared with that in which the party had been involved at an
earlier hour in the morning. The machinist went below to look at the
prisoners, and found them fast asleep still. Probably they had been up
all night, besides being charged with beer; and they were not likely to
give their captors any trouble.
Dory had carried the painter of the tender to the stern of the schooner;
and, as it was a long rope, the boat was held half way between the
vessel and the shore. There was nothing more for the captors to do at
present; and they seated themselves under the bulwarks, where they could
not be seen from the shore, though they kept a sharp lookout in the
direction of the place where Mack and Chuck had landed.
They had been in this position for half an hour, when they discovered
the two robbers on the beach. They shouted several times to the La
Motte, but no notice was taken of them. Dory cast off the painter of the
tender, and let it drop into the water.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE STANDING-RIGGING OF A SLOOP.
The picture of a sloop Thad Glovering produced on board of the Goldwing
was a drawing which the skipper had hastily made just before he went on
board of the boat. He passed it to Ash Burton, who knew more about a
boat than any other student of the party. But all of them wanted to look
at it, and they had nearly fallen overboard in their eagerness to get a
sight of it.
"Hold up, fellows!" called Thad, taking the picture from Ash. "Do you
want to make a bear-garden of the standing-room of the Goldwing? Not
much! You will all get a chance to see it without upsetting the boat."
"There comes the Marian!" exclaimed Hop Cabright, as the new steam-yacht
came shooting across Beechwater as though it had been discharged from a
rifle. "I believe she is faster than the Sylph."
"Come to, Thad!" shouted Luke Bennington, the captain of the swift
little steamer, from the pilot-house.
"What's up now?" said the skipper of the Goldwing, as he put his helm
down.
The boat came up into the wind, with her sail banging furiously in the
lively breeze; and the Marian went alongside of her. Luke handed Thad a
little bundle of papers, which the principal had forgotten to give to
the temporary instructor in sailing. The steamer started her screw
again, and dashed into the creek leading to the river. Thad filled away
again, and followed her. As soon as he had the boat under way, he opened
the package.
"Here is just what we want; and it will prevent you fellows from
spilling yourselves into the drink in looking at my drawing," said Thad,
as he produced the contents of the parcel. "I have heard something about
these before."
"What are they, Thad?" asked Archie.
"A copy for each one of you of a sloop, with letters to indicate the
parts," replied Thad, as he distributed them among his crew. "It is a
picture of a sloop from Captain Douglas Frazar's book, called 'Practical
Boat-Sailing.' The principal says it is a most excellent little book,
containing a vast amount of simple and useful information for those
handling sail-boats. Captain Gildrock is well acquainted with the
author, and knows him to be a thorough seaman as well as a skilful
yachtsman. Now, look at the picture, and imagine that it is the
Goldwing."
"But the Goldwing has but one jib," replied Ben Sinker.
"And you have but one hat," returned Thad.
"I have another in my room."
"This sloop has another jib in her room, which is the sail-room in the
boat-house. She don't wear it just now, as you don't have on your other
hat. Now, Archie, what is the upright stick in the forward part of the
sloop? Be practical about it, and don't talk any moonshine, if you
please."
"It is the mast," replied Archie confidently.
"That isn't the name of it."
"Not the mast?" asked Archie, perplexed.
"It is the mainmast."
"The mainmast! Then, where is the foremast?" demanded Archie, with a
good deal of faith in his argumentative question.
"She don't happen to have any."
"Then, what's the sense of calling it the mainmast when she has no other
mast?"
"Excuse me, Archie, but you remind me of the Dutchman," laughed Thad.
"'Do you know der reason wot we call our boy Hans for?' They could not
guess the reason, and the father explained. 'Der reason wot we call our
boy Hans for, is dot's his name.' With your permission, Archie, we will
call this stick the mainmast, for the same reason. If it is not the
right name, it is neither Captain Frazar's fault, nor mine."
"I accept the amendment; and c c is the mainmast," added Archie.
"Now we are happy! This mast is placed at about one-third of the length
of the boat from the bow; though, of course, this distance sometimes
varies a little," continued Thad. "What is the spar above it, Syl?"
"The topmast."
"The main-topmast, if you please, as Hans' father would call it. But,
when there is only one mast, we often cut it short, and call it simply
the mast, or the topmast. Understood! The mast, including the topmast,
may be one stick, as is the case in the Goldwing, or it may be two. The
topmast is marked _d d_."
[Illustration: STANDING RIGGING.]
[Illustration: REEFED SAILS.]
"Then, it is a clergyman," added Hop, trying to be funny.
"The nautical meaning of _D. D._ in the navy is 'Dead. Discharged.'"
"What is the spar at the head?"
"The bowsprit, marked _h_."
"Right you are, Ash. What is _i_, which the Goldwing does not wear just
now?"
"The flying jib-boom," shouted Archie, who had been very unfortunate in
his answers so far.
"Out on a fly! Jib-boom is enough for this spar. Only two more: what is
_b b b_, the lower one?"
"The boom," replied Archie desperately.
"The main-boom!" shouted Hop.
"Correct, Hop. The upper one, _e e_?"
"The main gaff!" roared Archie.
"Go to the head. Good boy!"
"To the head of the boat?"
"The head of the mainsail, when you know what it is. Now we will attend
to the rigging."
"There is not much of it to attend to," said Archie.
"A short horse is soon curried, but the short horse needs currying quite
as much as the long one," replied Thad. "Now, suppose the mainmast were
simply run through the forward deck, and the foot of it inserted in the
socket in the keelson: would it be strong enough to bear the pressure of
the sail in a stiff breeze?"
"It would not: the first flaw would take the mast out of her," replied
Ash Burton.
"It would take the mainmast out of her," added Archie sharply.
"I respectfully asked you to be reasonable, in the beginning, Mr.
Pinkler," interposed the skipper.
"He called the mainmast simply the mast," pleaded the critic.
"Will you be kind enough to point to the mast?" When he did so, "What
are you pointing with?" asked Thad.
"With my finger."
"With your forefinger, you mean. But it is not always necessary to
specify exactly what particular thing is meant. I told you that mast was
enough in a sloop, though when we come down to the proper names of
parts, we should apply the right name. The flaw would take the mast out
of her, and it would be likely to do so. What rigging keeps the mast in
its place when the flaw comes, Hop?"
"The shrouds. One of them is on each side of _b_, nearest to the mast,"
answered the student indicated.
"Then, there are two of them?"
"Two in the drawing; but the Goldwing has only one on each side of the
boat," added Hop. "A ship may have nine or ten of them; and I suppose
they put on as many of them as are needed."
"Sensible you are, Hop. They are shrouds, and the number of them differs
with the size of the vessel. But they are not often called shrouds in
small boats as in larger craft. Boatmen call them stays, though the word
is rather confusing sometimes. You observe that the shrouds, or stays,
in the drawing are both set up abaft the mast."
"I saw a fellow in Genverres yesterday who was set up," said Con Bunker.
"He did it with whiskey."
"He was tight; and that is just what rigging is when it is set up,
though we don't do it with liquor. Suppose we should rig a purchase on
the shrouds of the sloop in the cut, and continue to tighten them as
long as we could, what would be the effect on the mast?"
"It would bend the mast towards the stern," replied Ash promptly.
"Then the shrouds would support it from that direction," added Thad. "If
no other rigging were used, it would be likely to bend it towards the
stern. Look at _g g_ on the diagram; and what do you call it?"
"The jibstay, on which the jib is set," answered Ben Sinker.
"Never mind the jib now. The name is right. Suppose we rig a purchase,
and tighten the jibstay: what will be the effect?"
"If we haul it taut enough, it will straighten up the mast," replied
Ash. "Therefore it will support the mast from the bow of the boat."
"And all of you will see that it would be impossible to take the mast
out of her in a blow unless something broke," added the skipper.
"But tightening the jibstay would hoist the bowsprit," suggested Syl
Peckman.
"That is just where I was leading you, my hearty. Now, look at _f_, if
you please; and what do you call it?"
"The bobstay," replied Ash, who had sailed a boat a little at Westport
before he entered the school.
"Correct. Haul the bobstay as taut as you can, and it will keep the
bowsprit from hoisting. The stem of the craft is the upright timber,
placed farthest forward, and forming a continuation of the keel. The
iron eye to which the lower end of the bobstay is made fast, is bolted
into the stem in the strongest manner. Now you can see how both the mast
and the bowsprit are held in their place, and how each is made to
support the other. The topmast is, or may be, supported in precisely the
same way. One or more ropes leading down to the side of the boat from
the topmast would be called the backstays, as in a ship. There are none
in the picture. When they are needed, with a balloon-jib, they are
sometimes carried to the quarter; but these are temporary. In a small
boat, backstays are not needed, for the topmast is stiff enough without
them. Look at _k_; and what is it?"
"The main-topmast-stay," said Ash.
"That is it in full, though I should not have objected if you had called
it simply the topmast-stay in a sloop. Archie would. If there are no
backstays, it will not do to haul this stay too taut, or it will bend
the topmast forward, which is not pleasant to the eye. The jib-boom is
held by the rope under it, which is called a stay. In large vessels, the
bowsprit and jib-boom are also held in place by ropes at the sides,
called guys. As a whole, what do you call the rigging we have talked
about?"
"Give it up," replied Hop, after a silence of a minute.
"The standing-rigging; and the principal told you so when he described
the ship. Now that we have the spars where they will stay, we will pass
on to the sails and running-rigging. Begin at the main boom. What is the
rope marked _a a_?"
"The topping-lift," said Ash.
"When the sail is not set, this rope holds up the boom. The lower end of
it, you can see for yourselves,--as you have the real thing before you
as well as the picture,--is provided with a purchase, so that the
after-end of the boom can be raised or lowered."
"What is this thing?" asked Archie, pointing to a pair of wooden joists,
with a bolt through them, like the cross-legs of a table or
cot-bedstead.
"That is the crutch. Top up the boom with the purchase, and then place
the crutch under it after you anchor."
By this time the Goldwing had reached Lake Champlain.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE RUNNING-RIGGING OF A SLOOP.
The lake still had a decidedly stormy look, and the white-caps were as
plentiful as snowflakes at Christmas. The wind had hauled from the south
to south-west; and off the mouth of Beaver River, it had a sweep of six
miles. Only the mainsail of the Goldwing had been set, but Thad was a
prudent skipper; and before the sloop reached the point, on which the
spray was dashing at a furious rate, he put the helm down, and ordered
Archie to throw over the anchor.
"What's that for?" demanded Hop impatiently.
"It is blowing very hard, and I am going to reef," replied Thad.
"What's the use of reefing? She? will carry the mainsail well enough."
"Perhaps she will, but she won't while I am skipper," replied Thad
decidedly. "Besides, we are in no hurry, for we have the whole forenoon
before us; and I want to finish the explanations I have to make before
you get scared by the slop of the waves, so that you can't take an
interest in the subject."
"But we want to see the fun when the robbers are hauled in," added Hop.
"Dory is after them, and we want to see him do it."
"Dory won't do any thing that can be seen. If he takes the schooner, he
will bring her down to the school. The principal told me not to go near
her. The Sylph has not gone out of the river yet; and the fun, if there
is to be any, will not come off till she is ready to take a hand in it,"
said the skipper, as the boat came up to her cable. "If you are to learn
to sail a boat, you must know all about one."
Thad did not give Dory credit for all the enterprise he was manifesting
in the capture of the robbers, though he certainly would not have helped
matters if he had approached the La Motte. Some of the boys grumbled
about the delay, but Thad did not abandon his plan.
"What is the principal sail in a sloop?" he asked.
"The mainsail," replied Archie, who was very sure this time.
"This sail, as you may see in the picture or the real thing before you,
is irregular in its shape," continued the skipper.
"I wish the real thing wouldn't bang about so," added Ash.
"Give a pull on the main-sheet," added Thad; and it was done. "The real
thing won't trouble you now any more than the pictured one. It is
supported at the top by the gaff, by the mast at the inner side, and
stretched out at the bottom by the boom. On the mast are hoops, which
slide up and down when the sail is hoisted or lowered."
"I thought they were called hanks," said Ash.
"Hoops is the correct word; but the rings, whether of wood or any other
material, by which a sail, a jib, or a staysail, slides on the stay, are
called hanks. There are six parts of this sail which you ought to learn
by heart, and know as quick as you know the sleeve of your coat from the
collar of it. If you are told by the skipper to take hold of the leech,
you ought to know what it is."
"I should say a fellow couldn't do any thing with it till he knew where
to find it," added Ash Burton, laughing.
"In the first place, there are the head and the foot," continued Thad.
"You know what they are, but you must know that they are called by these
names. To what is the head of the sail attached?"
"To the gaff: I mean the main-gaff," replied Archie.
"Right both times. To what is the foot of the sail fastened?"
"To the boom," answered Con Bunker.
"And the wood or iron by which it is fastened, or seized, is called the
jackstay. The up-and-down edges of the sail are called leeches."
"Do they bite? How do you spell that word?" asked Hop.
"They don't bite unless you miscall them. As to the spelling, you pay
your money, and take your choice, for it is spelled both ways. They are
the inner and the outer leeches. The inner leech, where the hoops are
attached, is the luff. The four corners of the sail are called the
clews, though some call only the outer lower corner by this name. The
upper outer corner is the peak. The lower inner corner is the tack."
The skipper, after the manner of the principal, then examined the crew
on the subjects just explained till he had made them proficient. He
required them to point out the parts on "the real thing" before them.
"Now we will see what the jib (2) is made of. The names used vary
somewhat. The part of the sail to which the hanks are fastened is the
luff, or inner leech."
"Inner?" queried Ash, almost sure he was wrong.
"The sail is treated in relation to the stay, and not to the mast or the
hull; and the inner leech of the mainsail is the part where the hoops
are," replied the skipper, laughing; for he had made the same mistake
himself in his study of the subject.
"I see; and that makes it as clear as Champlain water."
"The outer, or after, leech, called simply the leech by the high-flying
yachtsmen, is the same as on the mainsail. The jib has a head and a foot
also. The tack is the corner next to the stay; and the clew, as called
by yachtsmen, is the after lower corner, where the sheet is attached.
That's all there is of the jib. What do you call the sail marked 3 in
the picture?"
"The gaff-topsail, because it is set on the gaff," replied Ash.
"It has a head and foot, and the tack and clew are in the same positions
as in the jib. That makes all the sails usually set on a sloop. Now we
will see how they are set and managed; and what do you call the rigging
used for this purpose?"
"The running-rigging," replied all at once.
"What do you call any rope used in hoisting a sail? The principal told
you some of the things I have to repeat."
"Halyards, whether attached to a spar, or to the sail itself," answered
Ash.
"We will begin with the jib. The halyards lead down by the mainmast, and
they are belayed on a cleat at the foot of it. The down-haul is attached
to the head of the sails, as the halyards are, and leads down on the
stay, sometimes passing through more or less of the hanks to keep it in
place, to a block on the bowsprit, under the tack, and then inboard. It
is used for hauling down the jib, as its name indicates. I suppose you
all know what sheets are, and have got rid of the lubberly idea that the
sails are called by this name."
"I think we all know that the sheets are ropes," added Ash.
"The jib is made fast at all points except at the clew, or at the
after-clew, as some would say. By the sheets, the jib is trimmed so as
to sail on the wind or otherwise. In small craft, these sheets usually
lead aft, to the standing-room, or cockpit as it is sometimes called, so
as to be within reach of the person sailing the boat. If there is a
flying-jib, it is handled in precisely the same way."
"What is the use of a flying-jib?" asked Archie.
"It adds so much more sail; and some boats need more head-sail than
others," replied the skipper. "The gaff-topsail now, if you please."
"It is a three-cornered sail, like a jib," said Con Bunker.
"Not always, though it generally is. Sometimes, in the high-flying
yachts, there is a gaff-topsail yard; but this spar is not fixed, as
those on the masts of a square-rigged vessel, but is hoisted up from the
deck. The gaff-topsail (3) in the picture, is a three-cornered sail. A
rope is attached to the head of the sail, which passes through a block
near the topmast-head, and leads down to the deck. By this rope the sail
is hoisted to the mast-head. What is the name of this line?"
"The gaff-topsail halyards," answered Hop.
"Of course, for the sail is hoisted by it. Another line is made fast to
the lower inside corner, next to the mast, which is called the tack; and
you can see that it corresponds with the tack of the jib or mainsail.
The third rope passes through a block at the peak, on the gaff; and this
is the sheet, as in the other sails mentioned."
"But there is a pole on Dory's gaff-topsail," said Ash.
"The halyard is made fast to this pole, as it is to the yard when the
sail is square, at a point which will carry the upper end of the pole
above the truck, thus allowing the sail to be larger than it could be if
the halyard were attached to the head of the sail."
"What sort of a cart is the truck?" asked Archie.
"I forgot to mention it, I suppose. It is a round piece of wood, fixed
on the end of the topmast, like a head upon a cane. It has a little
sheave, or a couple of holes in it, through which the signal-halyards
are passed. Now for the mainsail. I have already explained the throat
and peak halyards, so that you know what and where they are."
"Archie knows," said Ash.
"The main-sheet is the rope by which the position of the main-boom is
controlled; in other words, by which the sail is trimmed. Dory has
double blocks on his sheet, so that he handles it more easily than if it
were done with a single block on the boom; though he has to handle twice
as much rope in doing it. I do not think of any thing more to be said in
regard to the standing or running rigging of a sloop. If any thing comes
up, you will learn it while we are sailing. Now we will put two reefs in
the mainsail."
"Don't you reef the other sails?" asked Ben Sinker.
"The Goldwing works very well under the mainsail only, so that we
shorten sail by taking in the jib. The jib of this craft does not reef,
but it has a bonnet instead. This is really an additional sail, laced on
at the bottom of the jib. It can be taken off or put on at pleasure. In
some craft, the jib is made bigger, and is provided with one or two rows
of reef-points."
The Goldwing had three rows of reef-points on the mainsail. The skipper
required the sail to be lowered enough to permit one reef to be taken.
"This is a reef-pennant," said he, producing a cord of several feet in
length. "Sometimes it is called an earing. I pass it through this
cringle, which is only a hole in the sail, and then I carry the line
around the boom,--twice will make it strong enough. This I have done at
the clew, and now I do the same thing at the luff. Now, all hands, take
hold, and put in the reef by tying up the points."
"This one is not long enough," said Archie, when he had got hold of both
ends of a point. "It won't go round the boom."
"Of course it will not! You might as well try to pass it under the
keel," replied Thad. "They don't even go through the iron jackstay. Pass
them under the foot of the sail."
"Is that right?" asked Con, when he had tied one of the reef-points.
"Certainly not; it is a granny-knot: you must make nothing but square
knots in a reef-point."
Thad explained how to do it, telling them to make both ends come out on
the same side of the loop, or bight. They had been trained, or some of
the students had, in making the most useful knots; but they had the
talent for forgetting, as most boys have. A second reef was put in the
sail, in the same manner, on the top of the first one. The introductory
lesson was finished, the anchor was weighed, and the Goldwing stood out
into the lake.
"There comes that schooner!" shouted Ash Burton.
It was the La Motte, headed up the lake.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE PLAN THAT WAS NOT SUCCESSFUL.
Just as soon as Dory dropped the painter of the tender into the water,
the wind drove the boat away from the La Motte in the direction of the
shore. Mackwith and Chuckworth, the two robbers who had appeared on the
shore after their search in the woods for Angy, were too far off to
notice it.
"Now, we must not allow ourselves to be seen or heard," said Dory, as
soon as he had let go the painter. "They will find the boat, and come on
board."
"But don't you think they will suspect that something is wrong for their
side of the question?" asked Mr. Jepson.
"Why should they think so?" asked Dory.
"Since they left the schooner, she has been moved to her present
position; and the boat in which Angy left the vessel is found on the
beach."
"They may not be able to account for what they see, but it does not
follow that they will suspect any thing; though it will not make much
difference if they do," replied Dory, shrugging his shoulders.
"Of course, they will understand that the fellows they left on board
have moved the schooner; but I am afraid they will suspect something
when they find the boat on the beach," continued the machinist.
"Perhaps they will; they have a perfect right to do so: but they have
been up all night, and I don't believe they will be very sharp. Possibly
they drank beer enough while they were on board of the La Motte to
reduce them to the condition of the fellows in the steerage. But it is
not so much of a question of what they will think, as of what they will
do."
"Well, their actions will be guided by their thoughts."
"That is so; but they will be guided by their conclusions, and not by
all the suspicions that come into their heads," argued Dory. "Of course,
it is important for us to be able to foresee what they will do, so that
we may be prepared for them."
"Then, we must fathom their thoughts if we can."
"They are standing on the beach just now."
"And they are a quarter of a mile from us."
"But they are moving this way, though very slowly."
"I have no doubt they are about worn out, for they have been beating
about the woods for an hour or more," said Dory, as he raised himself so
as to see over the bulwarks of the schooner.
"Of course, they must see the vessel."
"I don't think they discovered her till this moment, for they have only
just begun to move this way. Now what will they do?"
"They will wonder why the position of the schooner has been changed."
"Let them wonder: they will not be able to make any thing of it. When
they reach the tender, they will do some more wondering."
"And they will begin to take account of the facts in their possession,"
added the machinist.
"That will be a sensible thing for them to do. The two principal facts
before them will be the change in the position of the vessel and the
presence of the tender on the shore. But the first thing they do, will
be to hail the La Motte; but they will not get any answer. What will
they conclude from the silence of those on board?"
"I have an idea, Dory; but what do you say?" added the machinist, with a
smile which seemed to mean more than his words.
"They will conclude that the fellows on board are tired out, and have
gone to sleep," replied Dory confidently. "Then they will take the boat,
and come on board. About that time, our work will begin."
"I don't quite agree with you, Dory," answered Mr. Jepson. "You are the
manager of this enterprise, and I think you have arranged things to lead
them to another conclusion from that you suggest."
"What do you think they will do?" asked Dory, disappointed that the
machinist did not seem to approve his action.
"When they find the boat on the beach, with the vessel where she is,
they will conclude that the two fellows have gone ashore, and are
looking for Angy, and for their absent companions," replied the
machinist, with more earnestness in his manner than he had displayed
before.
Dory bit his lips, for it seemed to him that there was a great deal of
force in what his companion said.
"If you had left the schooner where she was, they might have reasoned
that the boat was where Angy had left it," continued the machinist.
"But they would not have found the boat in that case. They would not
have been likely to see her on the beach, a quarter of a mile away from
them. Besides, I was not sure that the boat would be blown where they
would be in the way of finding it, if I turned it adrift a mile from
this shore," reasoned Dory rather warmly.
"There are difficulties, whichever way you look at the question," said
the instructor, laughing at the energy of Dory. "I think we had better
drop the discussion, and act upon the facts as soon as they are
developed."
"All right: you think they will do one thing, and I think they will do
another. The only important thing is, whether or not they will come on
board of the vessel. We will wait and see."
"It is too late to alter things as you have arranged them; and I do not
say that the course you have taken was not the wisest, Dory. We shall
soon know."
They could do nothing but wait. It would be some time before Mack and
Chuck reached the beach off the schooner; and Dory went below to see the
prisoners, taking care not to show his head above the bulwarks. The two
captives in the steerage were still asleep; it was a beer-slumber,
though they were doubtless very tired; and they were like a pair of
stone posts, so far as their appearance was concerned. Persons who were
not boozy could hardly have slept so soundly in the uncomfortable
positions in which they were confined.
As Dory had nothing else to do, he took a more careful survey of the
cabin of the La Motte. One of the bunks in the steerage appeared to have
been occupied, while the other five beds had not been disturbed. In the
cabin were several valises and travelling-bags. One of the former bore
the initials of the chief of the robbers. As it was not locked, he
opened it.
If there was any plunder on board, it had not been put into this valise,
for it appeared to contain nothing but wearing-apparel. In the pocket he
found a letter, addressed to "M. A. Spickles, Esq., Plattsburg, N.Y." It
was postmarked at New-York City. Dory felt that it was his duty, in
connection with the enterprise in which he was engaged, to obtain all
the information in his power; and he did not scruple to read the
epistle, as he would not have done under ordinary circumstances.
The letter contained a great deal of slang, a good portion of which the
reader could not understand. The writer, who signed himself "Fred
Ripples," promised to be at Ticonderoga on Friday night, and the La
Motte must take him and his party on board at that point. If the
schooner was not there at that time, the party would take the first
train for Westport, and would be there early Saturday morning.
With the letter in his hand, Dory went on deck, and joined the machinist
under the bulwarks. Mr. Jepson read the document, and looked at Dory,
though its contents did not appear to affect the present situation.
"These fellows are the other members of that club. They must be at
Westport by this time," said the instructor.
"Probably they are, for a train comes along very early in the morning,"
replied Dory. "But Mr. Fred Ripples had nothing to do with the robberies
at Plattsburg, or the one at Beech Hill; so that we have no particular
business with him."
"Then, we had better drop him; for the two fellows who did have a hand
in them are within a short distance of the tender," added the machinist
in a lower tone.
Dory looked out through an opening in the bulwarks which he had arranged
for the purpose. The two robbers looked as though they were worn out,
for they moved with a very heavy step. But they were talking very
earnestly together, as shown by their gestures; though what they said
could not be heard on board of the La Motte. They were evidently
discussing the change in the position of the vessel, and the discovery
of the boat on the beach. The first thing they did was to haul the
tender out of the surf, which was banging it on the gravel.
"Wick! Wick!" shouted one of them.
Then they waited some time for a reply to their hail, but none came.
"Sang! Sang!" called the other of the two.
"On board the La Motte!" yelled Mack, whose voice Dory recognized.
They seated themselves on the rail of the boat, and continued to yell
for half an hour. Then an argument seemed to be in progress between
them, in which one of them frequently pointed to the woods in the
direction from which they had come. Presently they rose from their
seats, and walked off, following the beach by the way they had come.
"Well, Dory, what does that mean?" asked the machinist, as soon as they
were out of hearing.
"It means that you were right, and that I was wrong," replied Dory
candidly. "I should have done better if I had left the schooner where
she was."
"I don't say that; and if I had thought so at the time, I should have
spoken. We will deal with the present situation," added the instructor.
"I thought the plan would work all right, and I am disappointed," said
Dory. "Those fellows believe that Sang and Wick, as they call them, have
gone ashore in the boat, and they have started to look for them. My
strategy has failed, and I am disgusted with it."
"What shall we do? That is the question now," suggested the machinist.
"I don't like to go back to Beech Hill without those fellows, after we
have spent so much time in hunting them down," added Dory.
"They will come back when they fail to find their companions."
"But I don't care about waiting all day for them. If you will go with
me, we will go on shore, and take the bull by the horns. We can handle
them."
"All right, Dory; but how can we get ashore? We have no boat," replied
the machinist, who was quite as impatient as his younger companion.
"I will bring off the boat for you, and I will go ashore on one of the
fenders."
Dory handed his revolver to the instructor, and prepared for his trip to
the shore by taking off his coat and shoes. It was a trifling feat for
him, and in a few minutes he was on the beach. It was a harder matter to
get the boat into the water; but he had carried a line to the shore with
him, so that his companion could assist in the work. The machinist
hauled the boat alongside the schooner as soon as it put into the water.
They embarked, and were on the beach in a minute more. They hauled the
tender to a safe place, and then walked along the beach towards the
place where Mack and Chuck had disappeared in the woods. But they had
proceeded only a short distance before Dory discovered a small steamer
buffeting the sea beyond Bluff Point. But she leaped the waves, and
seemed to be making good weather in spite of the roughness of the water.
Both of them were satisfied that the steamer was the Marian.
CHAPTER XX.
MORE MEMBERS OF THE NAUTIFELERS CLUB.
"That's the Marian, without a doubt," said Mr. Jepson. "She is going
down the lake."
"She is not headed for Split Rock Point, as she would be if she were
going down the lake," added Dory, after they had watched the steamer for
some time. "There! She is changing her course now, and she is headed
directly for Camp-Meeting Point. It looks as though she intended to take
a hand in this business."
But they continued on their way, and Dory hoped to come across the two
robbers before the steamer had time to interfere in the business. Before
they reached the place where Mack and Chuck had taken to the woods, the
Marian was off the end of the peninsula. She did not run for the La
Motte, as Dory supposed she would, and kept off so as to pass the point.
Then she disappeared behind the high land.
"She is not going to meddle with the schooner," said Dory. "I don't
understand her movements at all."
"I am sure I don't," added the machinist.
"No matter; and I am glad she has given the schooner a wide berth."
They struck into the woods, and walked a long distance without seeing
the two robbers of whom they were in pursuit. Dory had become so
desperate that he shouted several times, using the names of both Mack
and Chuck; but he obtained no response to his calls.
"They can't be about here, or they would answer me when I call them by
name," said he, very much puzzled at the situation.
"They must have gone some other way," suggested Mr. Jepson.
"At any rate, they are not here, and we had better return to the
schooner."
They retraced their steps till they came to the narrow part of the
peninsula, and there was a cart-path to the end of it.
[Illustration: "I TELL YOU WE CAN'T GET THE VESSEL OUT OF THIS PLACE."]
"They must have taken this road," said Mr. Jepson. "We had better follow
this road a while before we give up the search."
"I don't see what they could be doing down there. But we will look over
this region a little, and we can strike through to the beach when we
like," replied Dory.
When they had gone a few rods, they came to a sandy place in the
cart-path, and Dory brought his Indian craft to bear upon it. He found
the footprints of two persons in the wet soil, both of them headed
towards the outer extremity of the point.
"That makes it plain enough that they have come this way. I have looked
for tracks before, and I could not find any," said Dory. "But we are
making a blunder in the light of this information. These fellows will
get down to the boat before we are there, and we shall be left out in
the cold. I never thought of their coming this way, for the peninsula is
very narrow."
This logic was decidedly startling to the intended thief-takers; and
Dory broke into a run on the instant, and dashed through the woods
towards the beach. The machinist followed him. If they had been
astonished at any time during the morning at what they saw, they were
infinitely more so when they came out of the woods where they could see
the schooner.
On the beach abreast of the vessel they discovered, not only the two
persons they were searching for, but what looked like a crowd of people
to Dory's excited imagination.
He counted not less than seven men. They were in the act of putting the
tender into the water, and evidently intended to go on board of the La
Motte. They no longer hesitated to show themselves to the party, whoever
they were.
"I don't understand this at all," said the perplexed leader of the
enterprise.
"I am no better informed," replied the machinist. "But I think we had
better return to the woods, and keep out of sight until we know more
about this party."
"Perhaps you are right," replied Dory, adopting the suggestion.
Returning to the shelter of the trees, they moved forward till they came
to a place where they could obtain a better view of the party.
"I want to know whether Mack and Chuck are in this party," said Dory in
a whisper. "Yes, there they are. But who are the other fellows?"
"I shall have to give it up. They all seem to be on good terms. I
thought it might be a party from the Marian, but I saw her running for
Thompson's Point a few minutes ago. Whoever they are, they don't belong
to the school."
"Certainly not."
"I can't stand it any longer, and I am going down to see them,"
continued Dory, as he examined his revolver; and the machinist did the
same.
"Of course, the two who were in the boat with you this morning, will
know you, Dory," said the instructor.
"I can't help it if they do: I am going down to see them. I can't
imagine what the five new fellows can be, and I am determined to find
out."
"The whole seven of them seem to be engaged in an argument just now,"
added the machinist, as he followed Dory out of the woods.
As they came near enough to identify the two Dory had seen in the boat,
the argument seemed to wax very warm. Mack was the principal speaker on
one side of the question. He pointed with vehemence at the lake, and the
shores near him; and Dory concluded that they were engaged in a nautical
discussion.
"I tell you, we can't get the vessel out of this place," said Mack
warmly, when Dory came near enough to hear what he said. "The wind is
blowing very fresh right on the shore, and she is not more than fifty
feet from the beach."
"If you hoist the sails, there is wind enough to make her go, isn't
there?" demanded one of the new-comers.
"There is wind enough to make her go ashore all in a heap," replied Mack
smartly. "You don't know the first thing about handling a vessel, Fred
Ripples!"
Fred Ripples! That was the name of the signer of the letter. He was one
of the remaining members of the Nautifelers Club, who were to join the
rest of the party at Ticonderoga or Westport. Dory looked at Mr. Jepson,
and Mr. Jepson looked at him. How in the world had the new members come
to Camp-Meeting Point?
The members of the club on the beach were too busy with the argument to
notice the approach of Dory and the machinist. Doubtless Mack and Chuck
had told the new-comers of the "break" the night before, and of the
disappearance of the leader of the enterprise. But none of them had any
reason to suspect that Angy had been captured.
"Is that you, Dory?" demanded Mack, as he happened to turn his head far
enough to see him.
"What have you done with Angy?"
"I haven't done any thing with him," replied Dory, when the gaze of the
whole party was fixed upon him.
It was a hard question under the circumstances, and Dory was not at all
inclined to answer it.
"You were in the boat with him when Chuck let go of the painter, and
came off this way."
"We landed in a creek, and went on shore. We sat on a log some time,
while he rested himself: then he went off, and I have not seen him
since," replied Dory, telling the literal truth.
"But where is he now?" demanded Mack, beginning to be furious.
"I don't know."
But it was deception all the same, though it was the literal truth. Mack
and Chuck asked him a great many questions, but they could not get any
thing out of him. Mr. Jepson was a man he met over in the woods.
"Then, Angy must be in the woods now," said Mack, as the conclusion of
the whole matter. "We must find him, and we may as well begin at once."
"If you go far enough, you will be sure to find him," added Dory; but
his statement was not very definite, and the robbers were not likely to
go as far as the lock-up in Genverres to look for him.
"Where did Angy leave the tender when he landed?" asked Mack, who was
far from satisfied with the result of the examination.
"In a creek, which you will find near the bight of the bay."
"How came the boat here, if he left it in a creek?"
"Of course, Sang and Wick must have come ashore after we did, and they
found the boat," Chuck was kind enough to interpose before Dory could
answer the question, or attempt to evade it.
"But how could they get ashore when they had no boat, and no raft even?"
demanded Mack, who spoke in the imperative mood.
"What do you suppose they moved the schooner close to the shore for, if
it wasn't to enable them to land?" asked Chuck, in a triumphant tone;
for he was nettled at the imperious tones of Mack. "They found the boat,
but they did not find Angy. Here is the tender to prove it."
"They didn't go far to look for Angy, or we should have seen them. But
we are wasting time, and we must be on the lookout for Angy."
"I must have a drink of beer before I go, for I am about used up," added
Chuck.
They launched the boat; and when they were in it, they upset it. Dory
wanted to go on board with them, and he offered to handle the boat. He
put them on the deck of the La Motte, but it was a big boat-load. They
all rushed to the cabin. Dory drew the slide, and fastened the
cabin-door so that they could not get out.
But the hatches were off, and the machinist was stationed at the opening
with his revolver in hand. Dory was sure they could not get out by the
companion-way, and he made haste to get under way, slipping the cable.
The members of the Nautifelers Club were so devoted to their beer, that
they did not seem to be aware that they were imprisoned in the cabin.
They were quite noisy, and appeared to be bent upon having what they
called "a good time," whatever became of Angy.
Mr. Jepson was a mechanical genius, and he soon found a way to cover the
hatches. The jib was set, and then the La Motte did very well.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE GOLDWING ON THE STARBOARD TACK.
"Now we have got over the dictionary part of this business, and I don't
think the rest of it will be quite so stupid," said Thad Glovering to
his class in the Goldwing.
"Why don't you hoist the jib, Thad?" asked Hop Cabright.
"Because we have sail enough without it," replied Thad. "Ever since I
came to Beech Hill, I have been hearing about the danger of carrying too
much sail."
"But that schooner is carrying her jib," added Hop; and all eyes were
directed to the La Motte, though she was still a mile distant.
"I am not in charge of that schooner, and I have nothing to do with
her," answered Thad. "There is another of the dangers of a young
skipper--that of doing as others do on the water. There is as much
difference in boats as there is in men. One man can carry three hundred
pounds on his back, while half that will break down another. A fellow
must look at his own craft to ascertain how much sail she ought to
carry. You needn't try to pick up a barrel of flour, Hop, because
McGowen can do it."
"Do you suppose Dory is sailing that schooner, Thad?" asked Ben Sinker.
"Perhaps he is. I have no means of knowing any thing at all about it,
but I don't believe he is. There were five fellows on board of the
vessel when she was in the river yesterday, and I don't believe he and
Mr. Jepson have whipped out the four of them that must have been left on
board of her."
"There comes the Sylph!" exclaimed Archie.
"Let her come; but, if we are to give any attention to sailing, it is
time for us to make a beginning. You may take the wheel, Ash," said
Thad, rising in his place to give him the seat on the weather-side of
the helm.
"But I never steered a boat with that kind of a wheel," Ash objected.
"Then, it is time you learned about it," added the skipper, resuming his
seat to explain the wheel. "You can all learn about it at the same time,
for each of you will have his trick at the wheel before we return."
"That's the talk! I want to steer," added Archie.
"Then, you must mind what we are doing, and not give all your head to
the schooner and the Sylph; and, if there is any thing to see, I will
run up to the centre of the attraction."
"We don't have a circus with a lot of robbers every day in the week;
and, if there is any fun, a fellow wants to see it," added Con Bunker.
"If there is any fun, you shall see it, though I am not to meddle with
that schooner. Now for the steering-gear. The best way to learn about it
is to see how it is constructed," continued the skipper, as the Goldwing
passed from under the lee of the bank of the river, and began to be
exposed to the full force of the weather.
The sun had come out of the clouds, but the wind still blew strong from
the south-west. The sloop had two reefs in her mainsail, which was the
only sail she carried; but she had the wind free, and she did very well
under this short canvas. The waves were piling themselves up on the
point, and it still looked stormy in that direction; though the
commotion was trifling in comparison with what it had been two or three
hours before.
"Ugh!" yelled Archie, who was seated on the forward deck, with his legs
hanging over into the standing-room, as a wave broke against the bow,
and drenched him with spray. "It is damp here."
"Come aft, then: of course it will be wet in the forward part of the
boat. Four of you on the weather-side, and two on the lee," added the
skipper. "That will trim her about right for this sea."
"I suppose the weather-side is the side from which the wind comes," said
Archie, as he took his seat on that side of the boat.
"You are quite right, Archie; and a sailor who had been at sea fifty
years could not have hit it any better. If you remember that, it is not
necessary to recollect that the lee-side is that from which the wind
does not come. Weather and lee are important terms in a boat; and in
sailing, we use them instead of starboard and port."
"Let me see: starboard is the right-hand side, isn't it, Thad?" asked
Archie.
"That depends. But, Archie, you are green enough on nautical matters;
now don't pretend to be any more so than you really are," said Thad,
rather sharply.
"But I do get mixed on these things; and now you say it depends,"
pleaded Archie.
"It depends upon which way you are looking. With your face to the bow,
starboard is on the right."
"Then, port is"--
"Dry up, Archie! When you have learned the meaning of one of two
opposite things, that is enough," interposed the skipper. "The principal
gave us the two French terms for starboard and port,--_tribord_ and
_babord_. _Tribord_ means the right-hand side, looking ahead. A fellow
don't need a slate and pencil to figure up the meaning of _babord_. Now
we are going along all right, and we will look over the wheel. Can you
all see it?"
"I can," replied Archie.
"The upper end of the rudder is the head of it. The tiller is set in the
rudder-head, and is simply a lever for turning the rudder. The bow of
the boat is called the head. If you put the helm--that is, the
tiller--to starboard, what will be the effect upon the head, Archie?"
"It will turn the head," replied Archie thoughtfully.
"Turn it upside down, or turn it like a lunatic's! Which way will it
turn the head when you put the tiller to starboard?" demanded Thad.
"It won't turn it upside down: it will turn it to one side," added
Archie seriously.
"I should say that it would; but it is rather necessary to know to which
side it would turn it."
"It would carry the head of the boat the opposite way, I should think."
"But you must know. Which is the opposite way?"
"To port; and if you put the helm to port"--
"One thing at a time, if you please. Put the helm to starboard, and it
carries the head to port: that's enough. If you try to remember any
thing more, Archie, you will forget the whole. As I said before, the
terms weather and port are also used."
"What is the use of those terms when we have starboard and port?" asked
Con.
"No conundrums of that sort. We take things as we find them, and we are
not inventing a system. We speak of a weather and a lee helm. As you may
see by the position of the wheel, this boat carries a weather-helm; and
it only means that the trim of the craft inclines her to stick her head
up into the wind, and we have to carry the helm a little to the
weather-side in order to make her go straight ahead. If I should let go
the wheel, the boat would come to."
"Come where?" queried Con.
"Come to means to come up into the wind, or turn her head in the
direction from which the breeze comes. If she carried a lee-helm, she
would turn the other way, if left to herself; and in that case she would
be likely to upset, or have the mast taken out of her if it were blowing
fresh. It is a good thing, therefore, to have a boat carry a
weather-helm, within reasonable limits; and a lee-helm is a very bad
trick in any craft."
"But suppose the boat has a lee-helm: you can't help yourself," said Syl
Peckman.
"Yes, you can. Shifting the ballast will sometimes correct it, by
bringing her down more by the head or stern, as the case may require.
Possibly the position of the mast in a sloop may have to be changed.
There are two other terms that apply to the helm."
"More of them!" exclaimed Archie. "A fellow can never remember them."
"Why not, as well as the different names of a vehicle? The other terms
are up and down, and these depend upon the position of the boat in
regard to the wind. When you put the tiller away from the wind, it is
down. We have the wind on the port-side now. If we put the tiller to
starboard, it is down. Never mind what will happen, Archie, if we put it
to port. We shall have more to say about down and up farther along, when
we are dealing with the sails."
"Why not tell us now, while we are on the subject?" asked Con.
"Because you will not understand it so well now as you will then. But
there is another matter that may be told now. From which side do we get
the wind just now, Ben?"
"From the port-side. Give me something harder," replied he.
"I will: on what tack are we sailing?" asked the skipper sharply.
"I shall have to give it up: I never could get the hang of these tacks,"
pleaded Con.
"I never could," added Hop.
"I think I can tell why you did not get the hang of the tacks,"
continued Thad. "It was because the meaning of the position was given to
you in a lot of sea-slang, which you did not take in. I will tell you
when a vessel is on the starboard tack: it is when the main-boom is out
over the port-quarter, and the port jib-sheets are trimmed down. Now you
know!"
"I am sure I don't," replied Archie.
"I am not a bit the wiser," added Con.
"My definition is not beyond your comprehension; but you are not used to
thinking in that sort of lingo, though you could take in the meaning of
it if you gave the time and thought to it. Ben said just now that we are
getting the wind from the starboard-side. Do you all understand that?"
asked Thad very forcibly.
"Of course we do," answered Archie.
"That's easy enough," chimed in several others.
"Then, if we have the wind on the port-side, we are on the port-tack,"
almost shouted the skipper.
"Is that all?" demanded Con. "I understand that perfectly."
"Then, we won't say another word about it, if you all understand it."
"Of course we all understand it," said several of them.
"If you insist upon being a little more pickled in speaking it, you can
say she has her starboard-tacks aboard; though that expression more
properly applies to a square-rigged vessel."
"Starboard-tacks aboard," repeated about every one of the class.
"I don't see what it means," said Ash.
"Then, you don't remember what the principal told you in his lecture
last fall. In a ship, the ropes at the clews of the lower square-sails,
the courses, change their names," said Thad, picking up the boat-hook.
"Call this the yard of a ship. It would be at this angle as we have the
wind;" and he placed it at an angle with the keel, with the windward end
farther forward than the lee. "The rope at the weather-clew, or corner
of the sail, is the tack, and the one at the lee-clew is the sheet. Now,
suppose the ship to come about, and go the other way;" and he changed
the position of the boat-hook. "Then the weather-side would be on the
port, instead of the starboard; and what was the sheet before, becomes
the tack; and the ship has her port-tacks aboard."
"The Sylph is hailing the schooner," said Ash Burton.
"She is getting out a boat," added Thad. "She wouldn't do that if
something was not going on. As we can study this lesson just as well in
the river, we will go and see what is up."
The skipper put the Goldwing about.
CHAPTER XXII.
SOMETHING ABOUT STEERING A SAIL-BOAT.
The Sylph lowered her starboard-quarter boat; and two men, in addition
to the crew, took their places in it. The two vessels were too far off
to permit the party on board of the Goldwing to see who the men were,
for the sloop was now quite near the New-York shore. As soon as the boat
returned to the steamer, she came about, and stood up the lake again.
She kept quite near the La Motte, and therefore sailed at only half
speed.
"We will go up to Beechwater, and find out what has happened," said
Thad. "But we will attend to the lesson all the same. We are going to
come about. Which way do I put the helm, Archie?"
"Put it either way, and she will come about," replied the student, who
had earned the title of "Greenhorn," though no one was uncivil enough to
apply it to him.
"If you were at the wheel, would you take the responsibility of putting
the helm to port?"
"I shouldn't know any better than to do so."
"If you did, you might drown the crowd, in this breeze. But we will
leave that subject to the proper time to consider it. Which way do I put
the helm, Con?"
"Hard down, hard a-starboard, hard a-lee," replied Con.
"Right; and you have learned your lesson in full."
"Must a fellow say all that?" asked Archie.
"Not at all; though the expressions all mean the same thing, and Con
used them all to prove that he knew what they mean. When we are going
about, or going to tack, the proper way is to put the helm down, moving
it slowly at first, and then hard down, which is down as far as you can
get it. Ready about! That is the order to get ready to tack. Here we
are!"
The skipper put the helm down, and in a moment the reefed mainsail began
to shake and bang: then it went over on the other side, and filled
there.
"What tack are we on now, Archie?" asked Thad.
"On the port-tack; but you did not explain the port-tack," replied the
innocent youth.
"Didn't I, indeed! Then, how in the world do you happen to know that we
are on the port-tack? for you are as correct as though you had been to
sea all your life."
"I knew it must be the other one."
"You must have studied logic."
"With the port-tacks aboard," added Con. "Or would be, if this were a
ship."
"Now we will attend to this wheel," continued the skipper. "We have been
talking about a tiller. You can see that there is a cast-iron frame in
the shape of a quadrant."
"I never saw a quadrant," said Archie.
"Then, you did not look when the principal showed us one,--or perhaps
you were not present. But you have seen a mince-pie."
"And eaten one."
"Not a whole one at a time. If you did, you saw a winged alligator
before morning. But what part of a mince-pie is about a pattern for
you?"
"Say a quarter."
"That would be in the shape of a quadrant. This quadrant has a round
hole cast in the right angle, which is fitted upon the rudder-head, as
you can see for yourselves. On the round side of the quadrant are cogs,
which fit into the cogs of the smaller wheel, under the large one, which
is provided with handles, or spokes. It isn't easy to talk it, but you
can see it. I am seated on the weather-side of the wheel."
"Must the helmsman always be on the weather-side?" asked Ash.
"There is no law about it; but for some reasons, it is the better side
for him. He can see ahead better; and when the boat is on the wind, and
she heels over, he has the higher side. Being on the weather-side of the
helm, if I pull the spokes on the big wheel towards me, it turns the
small wheel, which is part of the big one, in the same direction. By the
action of the cogs, the round side of the quadrant is moved in the
opposite direction. The quadrant is really the tiller. Then, drawing the
spokes towards me is putting the helm down, which throws the boat up
into the wind."
"It will not be so if you stand on the other side of the wheel," said
Ben Sinker.
"Certainly not. I am standing on the starboard-side now: if I bring the
spokes towards the starboard-side, it carries the quadrant, or tiller,
over to the opposite side, and the head of the boat moves to starboard.
You put the tiller to port to carry the head to starboard: with this
wheel, the action is reversed. To sum it up short, put the spokes to
starboard, and the head goes the same way. Now, Ash, you may try your
hand at it, and see if it works as I say it does."
"Of course it does, for you know all about it," replied Ash.
"But a fellow never believes a thing of this sort till he has proved
it," added the skipper. "Pull the handles of the wheel towards you, and
it throws the head of the boat up into the wind. Remember this--'only
this, and nothing more.' But there is one thing that a beginner has to
learn; and that is, to steer small."
"I know about that," replied Ash.
"The others don't. A new hand is always apt to move the tiller too much.
To move the tiller, or wheel, very little at a time, is to steer small.
Move it gradually, and note the effect upon the boat's head."
Ash Burton took his place at the wheel; and, as he had had some
experience in steering a boat with a tiller, he did very well. In fact,
he was competent to handle a boat, though he had picked up his knowledge
himself. But he did not boast of his skill, and wished to learn more.
"I always take an object on the shore, and steer for it, when the boat
is going free," said he.
"I do, whether she is going free, or not," added Thad. "If I am close
hauled, I watch both the sail and the object. When a fellow is steering,
he ought to give the closest attention to the business he has in hand;
and it isn't a bad rule to follow, whatever he is doing. If the helmsman
doesn't mind what he is about, he keeps the boat yawing and staggering,
like a man who has taken too much whiskey. I don't like to see a boat
going that way. If she is kept steady, she not only makes her course
better, but she gets along faster."
"I am running for the point," said Ash.
"Then, you may make too much northing. You should always take an object
to windward of the point you want to reach, for the boat will always get
in more or less leeway; though it don't make much difference when you
have a free wind. But you can steer well enough, Ash. Let Ben Sinker try
his hand at the wheel."
"I don't believe I can do it," replied Ben modestly. "I never tried to
steer a sail-boat."
"Then, you are just the fellow we want. Take an object on the shore near
the south side of the mouth of the river," continued the skipper.
"There is a cow," added Ben.
"Better take a train of cars on the railroad: it moves faster, and you
would fetch up somewhere, though it might be on the bottom of the lake.
Not an object that moves, or can move, my lad. Take that highest tree,"
replied Thad, as he pointed to it.
Ben took his place at the wheel, and fixed his gaze on the tree, which
Ash had used for his mark. In a moment the boat was off the course; and
the new hand, anxious to set her right, pulled the wheel about half way
round. The skipper said nothing, for he wanted his pupils to learn by
experience. The sail began to shake, as the Goldwing came up into the
wind. Ben immediately put the wheel the other way: the sloop came back
to her course, and then began to fall off.
"Steer small, Ben: that's what's the matter. You have her almost before
the wind; and it won't do to let her go any farther round, for the sail
will bang over to the other side," interposed the skipper, giving the
wheel a turn. "You will send us all to the bottom at that rate."
"I told you I didn't believe I could do it," replied Ben, not a little
mortified at his ill success.
"But I know you can do it: only you have made the same mistake as all
new hands," added Thad, as he brought the boat to her course. "Now you
are all right again. It won't do to fool with a boat when the wind is as
fresh as it is now. Just move the wheel only an inch or two at a time,
till you learn how much it requires."
"I see, that, if you turn the wheel only an inch, it has an effect on
the head of the boat," said Ben, after he had got the hang of the wheel.
"I thought you had to move it at least a foot to produce any effect at
all."
"If the wind were light, it would be different," added Thad. "The whole
thing is balanced, and the movement of the rudder keeps the boat in a
sort of equilibrium."
"That's a big word," said Archie.
"But you all know what it means, though you may not see how it applies
to a boat under sail. Suppose I haul in the main-sheet, so that the wind
will blow square against it," continued the skipper, suiting the action
to the word, till the boat heeled over enough to startle the timid ones.
"That takes the pressure off the wheel," said Ben.
"Because it checks her headway; and it would upset the boat, for the
sail holds the wind instead of getting rid of it."
"I don't see how the sail can get rid of the wind, for it is all here,"
replied Archie.
Thad took a large piece of newspaper from his pocket, lifted it as high
as he could reach, and then let it go.
"Which way did it go?" he asked.
"North-east," answered Syl.
"Which way is this sloop going?"
"South-east."
"What is the reason it did not go the way this boat is going?"
"Because the wind don't blow this way," replied Archie.
"Then, what makes the boat go this way, my lad?"
"Because Ben steers it this way."
"Correct; but suppose I should rig a sail in the Bouquet, and steer her
with all my might, could I make her go as the Goldwing is going?"
"Of course not: she has no keel, or next to none."
"Correct again. The wind carries the paper in the direction towards
which it is blowing. If the breeze struck square against the sail, it
would blow the boat over to-day. We trim the sail at an angle, at a
slant, with the way the wind blows. The sloop is not forced ahead, as
the paper was, by the direct action of the wind."
Thad placed the bailing-bucket on the floor of the standing-room, and
then with the boat-hook, passed along the side of it, caused the pail to
be moved athwart-ships, though the boat-hook was carried fore and aft.
"The bucket is moved by the friction of the boat-hook, as the sail is by
the friction of the wind against the canvas," said Thad. "If it were not
for the keel, the boat would slide off sideways: it would be all leeway,
and no headway. With the helm, we keep the several forces balanced."
The sloop went into the river; but another hand was sent to the wheel
when Ben Sinker had obtained some practical idea of steering, and the
lesson was continued.
CHAPTER XXIII.
OPERATIONS IN THE HOLD OF THE LA MOTTE.
The La Motte, under a reefed mainsail and a single jib, worked very well
in the heavy sea to which she was soon fully exposed when she had made a
short distance from the beach off which she had been anchored. Mr.
Jepson had found some boards under the fore-scuttle in the forecastle,
with which he had covered the hatches. On the top of them he had placed
a plank, used for rolling barrels or other freight ashore, which bore
equally on all the boards. Then with a handspike he worked the spare
anchor upon this plank.
The seven members of the Nautifelers Club were very busy with their
beer. Dory had closed the door of the steerage, and fastened it before;
for he had anticipated, to some extent, the imprisonment of the party in
the cabin. They had not yet discovered what had happened to Sang and
Wick: the beer monopolized all their attention.
The machinist went aft when he had secured the hatchway, and
strengthened the fastenings of the companion-way. As the doors opened
outward, he fixed a wooden brace in such a way that they could not be
moved, while a simple stick of the right length made it impossible to
start the slide.
"I think they will stay where they are for a while," said the
instructor, when he had completed his precautions.
"We shall not have to keep them there a great while, for the wind is
very lively, and we shall soon get into the river though we shall have
to beat up," replied Dory. "I should say they can't get out at the
companion-way."
"I had a better chance there to work than I had at the hatchway. But in
being on deck, we have all the advantage," added the machinist.
"I suppose some or all of them are armed with revolvers," suggested
Dory.
"Probably they are, but they are not in a good position to use them."
Just at this moment the noise in the cabin suddenly ceased; and a moment
later, there was an attempt made to start the slide at the
companion-way.
"They have finished the keg of beer, I should think, for I doubt if they
would be willing to leave any of it. I will go forward and have an eye
to the hatches," said the instructor.
"On deck, there!" shouted one of the prisoners, whose voice Dory
recognized as that of Mack.
But the new skipper of the schooner made no reply.
"On deck, there! Open the slide!" continued the successor of Angy, as he
seemed to be.
Dory was entirely willing that he should use his voice to any extent he
pleased, and he gave his whole attention to the steering of the vessel.
Then some of the others began to yell, and it was evident that the fumes
of the beer were producing some effect upon them.
The members of the Nautifelers Club then resorted to feats of strength.
They pulled and jerked and wrenched at the slide and the doors. They
kicked, thumped, and banged; but the slide and the doors resisted all
their efforts,--mainly, perhaps, because they could not get at them so
as to apply all their strength. Whatever the reason they failed to force
a passage to the deck at this point, they abandoned the attempt after a
short time.
Dory could hear them talking together, though he could not distinguish
what they said. Of course, they were discussing the situation, and they
would soon attempt to get out by the hatchway. The skipper did not
expect the fastening of the door between the cabin and the hold would
hold out a great while; for, if it did not readily give way, they would
break down the door.
The noise in that direction assured Dory that they were already engaged
in this work of demolition. A few minutes later the machinist informed
him that the prisoners were in the hold. In the steerage they had an
opportunity to obtain a better idea of the situation when they found
Sang and Wick made fast to the stanchions which supported the berths.
They could not fail to deduce from what they found there, the fact that
Dory and his associate had taken possession of the vessel. By this time
they could not help realizing that they were prisoners themselves. It
would have been easy for them to jump, from all these appearances, to
the conclusion that their leader had come to grief, and had been put in
some secure place. Whether they followed out this course of reasoning,
or not, Dory had no means of knowing.
"On deck, there!" shouted Mack, under the hatch.
"Don't answer them," called Dory, in a tone only loud enough for the
machinist to hear him.
The call from below was several times repeated, with the same result.
The ends of the boards the machinist had put over the opening, rested on
the combings of the hatch; but they were not matched so that there were
no cracks between them. In some places, there were apertures of an inch
or more in width. The sentinel over this possible egress could hear all
that was said by the prisoners. Sang and Wick had been released, and he
heard them give all the information in their possession to their
associates; but they could not tell what had become of the chief of the
club.
"They are getting ready for operations," said Mr. Jepson, after some
time.
"All right; and if they are likely to be too much for you, let me know
as soon as possible," replied Dory, as he tacked, and headed the
schooner towards the entrance of Kingsland Bay.
"But you can't leave the helm," suggested the machinist.
"I shall keep the schooner near the shoal water on this side of the
lake; and if you want me, I shall haul down the jib and anchor," added
Dory.
At this moment Mr. Jepson made a sharp hit with a stick he had found on
the deck, at the boards which covered the hatch. A hideous yell of rage
and pain followed the blow. Dory could understand, without an
explanation, that one of the fellows below had thrust his fingers
through one of the openings between the boards, and that the machinist
had rapped them with his weapon.
"That was Mack," said the sentinel, who had learned the sound of his
voice by this time. "He will have a lame hand."
Then a lively sound of snapping boards came up from the hold; and it was
clear that the desperate prisoners were tearing down one of the bunks to
obtain the material of which they were built, for use in the next
operation, whatever it might be. The machinist divined the purpose to
which the pieces were to be applied. He looked about him for the means
of meeting the new attempt. There was an axe in the waist, which had
been used in cutting up fuel for the cook-stove in the cabin.
The machinist took possession of it, and rushed back to his post. At
every opening between the boards, a stick was thrust through, and the
prisoners were trying to pry apart the pieces that covered the hatch.
With a blow of the axe, the instructor broke off every end that came
through. It was lively work for him for a few minutes; but not a single
lever of the half-dozen used, could be made to accomplish any thing.
This attempt was a failure, like those which had preceded it.
A silence of some minutes followed, and then Dory heard the voices of
the party in the cabin; but they were more quiet than they had been at
any time before. Doubtless, things were beginning to look more serious
to them. The boards at the hatch had been tested; and, when the
prisoners left the hold, the machinist joined the skipper on the
quarter-deck. The party below did not seem to be doing any thing; but
presently there was another demonstration at the hatchway, and Mr.
Jepson rushed forward to repel any attack in that quarter.
The sticks were brought into use again, and the machinist was kept busy
breaking off the ends of them for some time. Dory watched him with
interest until he heard a strange noise behind him. When he turned to
see what it was, he discovered Mack in the act of coming over the
taffrail to the deck. He had only time to take a turn in the tiller-rope
he had held in his hand to assist him in holding the helm, before the
robber rushed upon him.
"I have got at you at last, and we will settle it here and now!"
exclaimed Mack, as he threw himself upon the skipper.
Dory had expected to see a revolver staring him out of countenance, when
he discovered the approach of his assailant, and he had put his hand on
his own weapon. But when Mack sprang upon him, he was ready for him. It
was a short struggle, though a very violent one; and Dory held his man
by the throat till the machinist came to his aid. Together they tied his
arms behind him, and rolled him into the scuppers.
During the brief absence of the instructor from his post, the prisoners
made some progress in enlarging the openings between the boards; and, if
their work had not been checked, they would soon have made their escape.
A part of them appeared to have been sent there to make a diversion for
the benefit of those who were to operate at the stern.
There were two stern windows to light the cabin, and there was no
skylight on deck. The prisoners had removed the sash, and one of them
had reached the deck in this way. Dory had no doubt the rest of them
would follow their leader; but, as they could come only one at a time,
he thought he should be able to take care of them, with what assistance
Mr. Jepson could give him. It must take some time for each of them to
crawl through the small window,--which did not seem to be large enough
to admit the passage of a man,--and more time to climb to the deck after
they got out; so that they were not likely to have to deal with more
than one at a time.
The skipper found that he could leave the helm for a minute or more with
the tiller lashed, and he went to the taffrail to see who was coming
next. Mr. Fred Ripples had just worked his body through the window, and
was ready to ascend to the deck.
"Hand me my club," said he, in a low tone, to those in the cabin.
Dory picked up one of the hard-wood sticks, which the members of the
club had used as canes, he thought, and, after adjusting the helm again,
returned to the taffrail. Ripples had got hold of the woodwork above
him. Dory used his stick, and the new-comer dropped into the lake.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE DEFENDERS OF THE PIRATE-SCHOONER.
Mr. Fred Ripples seemed to be very much surprised when he found himself
in the lake instead of on the deck of the La Motte. He had come out of
the cabin-window backwards, so that he could get hold of the taffrail
above his head, without turning his body. The instant he placed his hand
on the rail, Dory delivered the blow with his stick. He did not strike
hard enough to break his hand, but only with force sufficient to make
him let go.
As this hand, after he had passed out of the window far enough to reach
the rail, was all that supported him, he rested upon nothing the moment
he released his hold. When he went down into the water, he manifested
his surprise by a loud yell. As he appeared to be alarmed, Dory was
afraid he would be drowned, for the rough water was not favorable to the
restoration of one's lost self-possession.
"Get hold of the boat!" shouted the skipper, when he realized the
situation.
Ripples had already seized upon the painter, which happened to be within
his reach; but, instead of moving towards the boat, he went the other
way, and, with the aid of the rope, set about climbing over the stern of
the schooner. But Dory could not watch him any longer; and he returned
to the tiller, for the vessel's sails had begun to shake in the wind.
Mr. Jepson seemed to be busy in chopping away at the sticks which the
prisoners forward were still thrusting through the openings in the
coverings of the hatchway. The machinist thought he must have cut up
about all the wood they had provided below for use; but no decided
impression had been produced by their labors upon the substitute for the
hatches.
Ripples worked desperately in his attempt to climb over the stern, and
Dory saw his head above the taffrail. He procured a couple of lines, and
then went to the assistance of the fellow. Taking him by the collar of
the coat, which was within his reach, he dragged him over the rail of
the stern, and deposited his carcass upon the deck. The moment the
machinist saw him, he rushed aft. Dory put his foot on the enterprising
climber, and held him down while his associate secured his arms behind
him. Standing him up by the side of Mack, the instructor hurried
forward, to make sure that there was no break at the hatches.
The last comer upon the deck was so exhausted by his struggles in
climbing over the stern, that he puffed like a grampus, and was not in
condition to make any remarks upon the situation, even if he had been
disposed to do so. Having righted the helm, and secured it again, Dory
took a look over the stern. Another head was out of the window, and it
was evident that the rest of the party intended to come on deck in the
same manner as the first two. The skipper placed his stick where it
would be available.
There were seven more of them in the cabin and hold: but Dory felt that
he held the key to the situation as long as the covering of the hatchway
did not yield to the force applied to it below. He was perfectly willing
the party should come on deck one at a time over the stern. As no one
had attempted to use any revolvers, he concluded that they had none.
It was a difficult matter to make the ascent from the cabin-window to
the taffrail; and those who had done it, came up more or less exhausted,
which gave Dory and the machinist all the advantage. The vessel was
close in with the entrance of the bay, and it was necessary to tack
again. As soon as he had done so, he took another look over the stern.
There were two heads in sight this time. The operators had taken out the
other window, and evidently intended to come up two at a time.
"On deck, there!" shouted Chuck, when he heard Dory's step on the deck
above him.
"What is it?" asked the skipper, stepping back, and putting his hand
over his mouth so as to change the tone of his voice.
"Is that you, Mack?"
"All right," answered Dory.
"Haven't you knocked those two fellows over yet?" demanded Chuck
impatiently; and it was evident from the question, that he expected
assistance from the deck by this time.
"All right: we have knocked them both over, and secured them," answered
Dory, adding a fit of coughing to his muzzled voice; but he did not deem
it necessary to define more particularly the identity of the two fellows
who had been knocked over.
Chuck seemed to be satisfied with the answer, and immediately he called
to his companions in the hold; though Dory did not understand what he
said. The machinist had been strengthening his works at the hatches, by
piling on the boards over the opening, all the heavy articles he could
find on the deck. While he was thus engaged, all the party in the hold
left, doubtless at the call of Chuck, who appeared to have succeeded
Mack in the command.
The two prisoners on deck had been placed in the waist, and they were
too far off to hear what passed between Dory and Chuck. As soon as the
departure of the fellows in the hold would permit, Mr. Jepson hastened
aft. Dory gave him the helm, and went to the stern, though he was
careful not to show himself to the operators below.
At the stern of the vessel was a pair of davits, at which the tender was
usually hoisted up. A glance at them, and a knowledge of their use,
suggested the means of preventing the rest of the party below from
coming on deck.
"On deck! Why don't you open the doors of the cabin so that we can come
out?" shouted Chuck, who had retreated to the cabin, considering it no
longer necessary to risk the necks of his followers in the difficult
ascent from the cabin through the window. "Why don't you let us out?
Open the cabin-doors!"
"They won't open," replied Dory.
"Then, take that stuff off the hatchway! We don't want to stay down here
all day," added Chuck, very much discontented with the situation, and
especially with the failure of his companions to do any thing.
"Only two of us here on deck. We have to work the vessel, and that is
all we can do," added Dory, coughing again with all his might; while the
machinist stood at the tiller, laughing at the farce, as it seemed to
him.
"Open the doors, and let us up, and we will help you," persisted Chuck.
"You keep quiet where you are! We will let you out as soon as we have
time to clear the stuff from the hatchway," said Dory.
"We can't keep quiet: the keg of beer is empty.--But we can tap
another," answered Chuck; and the last remark seemed to indicate a
sudden new idea.
Dory was not willing to encourage him to drink any more beer; and he
left his place at the stern, to end the conversation. At this moment he
took a survey of the lake, and discovered the Sylph coming out of the
river. He had been expecting to see her for the last two hours, and her
appearance was a source of intense delight to him.
"Our troubles will soon be over," said the skipper to the machinist, as
he pointed up the lake at the steam-yacht.
"Our troubles!" exclaimed Mr. Jepson. "Why, Dory, I had made up my mind
that you rather enjoyed this circus."
"I am sure, I don't enjoy it a bit more than you do, sir," replied the
skipper, somewhat astonished at the remark.
"You certainly need not have engaged in this affair if you had not been
so disposed."
"I think I speak the honest truth when I say that I believed these
villains would escape if I did not do something; and that was my only
motive in undertaking to capture them, or at least in watching to see
where they went," replied Dory, as though he were defending himself from
a criminal charge. "Perhaps I did more than was necessary, but I could
not very well help doing it."
"Two-thirds of the students would have considered it as a jolly time, if
they could have taken part in the affair. At any rate, we shall hand
over the whole of the crowd to the principal, and he can do as he
pleases with them."
"He will put them through, you may be sure of that."
Dory went forward to see if there was any further movement to remove the
cover from the hatchway. But he felt, now that the Sylph was in sight,
that the battle had been fought, and that the victory had been won. He
could not help thinking of what the instructor had said to him, and he
began to look back at the events of the morning. If he had returned to
Beech Hill with the carpenter, when he conducted Angy to the school,
Mack and Chuck would certainly have found the tender where he left it,
returned to the schooner, and made their escape. This was the way it
looked to him, and he was satisfied with what he had done.
"I should like to know what all this means," said Ripples, as Dory
passed him in the waist on his return from the hatchway.
Dory looked at him, not being able to understand what he meant; for he
thought he ought to be able to comprehend his situation. But the fellow
looked as though he had a grievance.
"It means that you are bound with your arms behind you, and are made
fast to the rail. I should think you would be able to take that in," he
replied.
"But for what reason am I bound? Are you and the other fellow
lake-pirates?" demanded Ripples.
"I rather think not; and it seems to me that the boot is on the other
leg. Your party were engaged in a robbery, and you have all come to
grief," added the skipper.
"Engaged in a robbery!" exclaimed Ripples. "Do you mean to say that I
was engaged in a robbery?"
"The fellow alongside of you certainly was, as I shall be called upon to
testify in court. You were found in his company, and did your part in
defending the pirate-schooner," replied Dory.
Ripples looked intensely indignant.
CHAPTER XXV.
A SELFISH VIEW OF AN IMPORTANT QUESTION.
Mr. Fred Ripples was evidently a wild young man, but he looked indignant
enough to be honest when charged with being a defender of the
pirate-schooner. Dory knew that he had not been with the original party,
and had come on board of the vessel since the robbery of the office had
been committed.
"I don't think I understand you any better than you understand me," said
Dory, when it occurred to him that Ripples might be an honest young man,
even if he did drink beer.
"Do you understand it, Mack?" asked Ripples, turning to his
fellow-prisoner at his side.
"Don't ask me any thing about it, Fred," replied Mack, in a tone of
disgust. "Some of us are in a bad scrape, and I shall not say a word to
any one."
"I don't understand you any better than I do this other fellow,"
continued Ripples. "If I am in a bad scrape, I don't know it."
Mack refused to say another word, and evidently did not mean to commit
himself. By this time, Dory had become not a little impressed by the
manner of Ripples, and by the refusal of Mack to speak. He removed the
line which bound the former to the rail, and led him to the
quarter-deck, where he seated him on the companion. Then he took the
tiller.
"I should really like to know what you mean by what you have said and
done," said Ripples.
"Are you not a member of the Nautifelers Club?" asked Dory.
"Without a doubt, I am; and the Club was formed for this excursion
during the summer. We joined the vessel this morning, and Mack said you
were trying to get the schooner away from the Club when you fastened us
all below. That's all I know about this business," added Ripples.
"If you don't know any thing more, I am glad of it."
"I haven't the least idea what Mack means when he says he is in a bad
scrape," he continued.
"He told you the truth; and he will probably get some years in the State
prison for his share in the operations of last night."
"Is that so?" asked Ripples, apparently appalled at the intelligence.
"Can you tell me what has become of Angy? None of these fellows seem to
know."
"They don't know, and I shall not tell you just yet; though he is in
just as bad a scrape as Mack. When was this club formed?" asked Dory.
"About a month ago. Angy was the leading spirit in getting it up. He
said the rich fellows would find the money to pay the bills, and we
should have a first-class time for two or three months on the lake. I
put in fifty dollars to start the thing, and three or four of the
fellows did the same."
"But how happened you to be separated from the others?" asked the
skipper.
"Angy did not want the whole of us to come at first."
"Why not?" asked Dory, who was beginning to see through the business.
"I don't know. He said the vessel would not be ready, and he would write
to us when she was fit to take us on board. He did write to us the other
day, and told us to come to Ticonderoga yesterday, and then to come on
to Westport if the La Motte was not there."
"You did not find her there?"
"No; and we were called at three o'clock this morning, and came to
Westport. Our fellows were all as mad as hops when they did not find the
schooner there. It was a horrible storm in the night, and I suppose that
was the reason she was not there. A young fellow in a handsome little
steamer came near the shore where we were waiting, and I hailed her.
After some teasing, he consented to take us down the lake. When we saw
the La Motte, we asked him to put us ashore on that point, which he
did."
"How did you know it was the La Motte when you saw her?" asked Dory.
"By that signal," replied Ripples, pointing to what looked like a red
handkerchief in the main rigging. "Angy told me that would be his
signal."
"Did you tell the young fellow in the small steamer that you were
looking for the La Motte?"
"For some reason, which he did not explain in his letter, Angy told us
not to mention the name of the vessel, or to say any thing about her,"
replied Ripples. "We told the young man, who appeared to be in command
of the steamer,--I believe she was called the Marian,--that we were
going to camp out on Camp-Meeting Point; for we had all studied the
charts of the lake."
"Did all the members of the club pay fifty dollars?" inquired Dory.
"No, indeed! Not more than four of them did it; and Angy wrote me, a
week ago, that the money was all gone."
"Did he ask for more?"
"He did not. He said he would raise the money; though I could not see
where he was to get it, for his father is a poor man now. But all the
fellows that came up with me have from fifty to a hundred dollars
apiece. Angy must be short of cash by this time."
"I think he has made some money since he reached the lake," added the
skipper quietly.
"How could he make any money?" demanded Ripples, surprised at the idea.
"By breaking open safes; and he did a job of that kind last night."
"Angy!" exclaimed Ripples, with a start.
"Angy and Mack did it together, while Chuck took care of the boat, and
the other two fellows remained on board of the La Motte."
"You don't mean so! Angy and Mack broke open a safe!"
"Blowed it open."
"All I have to say about it is, that I had nothing to do with the
robbery, and did not have any suspicion that Angy meant to do such a
thing," protested Ripples very warmly. "And the fellows that came with
me are as innocent as I am."
"Angy got over two thousand dollars from a safe last night, though the
money was taken from him after he was captured. He is in the lock-up by
this time, and the rest of these fellows will soon be there; that is,
the five that were in the schooner last night."
"What is that steamer?" asked Ripples, as the Sylph came near the La
Motte.
"Probably there are officers on board of her, who will take charge of
Mack and the rest of the five. My uncle owns her; and I will tell him
about you," added Dory, as he brought the schooner to, at a signal from
the pilot-house of the Sylph.
The quarter-boat was lowered into the water, and the two officers on
board of her were soon placed on the deck of the schooner. It was too
rough for the principal to attempt to do any thing more; and one of the
officers gave a message to Dory, instructing him to take the vessel to
the school. The La Motte filled away again, and the Sylph followed her.
"What have you got here, Dory?" asked Mr. Bushby, the deputy-sheriff,
pointing at the prisoner fastened to the rail.
"We have nine in all. The other seven are fastened into the hold and
cabin. But five of them had nothing to do with the robbery, and didn't
know any thing about it. They did not come on board of the schooner till
about an hour ago; though they tried to break out of the cabin when we
fastened them in," replied Dory.
"You have had a regular circus of it, and your uncle was afraid you
would get hurt;" added Mr. Bushby.
"We have been in a sort of conflict all the time, but no one on our side
has been hurt; though I think some of the prisoners have sore fingers."
"Of course, these fellows were provided with pistols," suggested the
officer.
"The chief had one, and he snapped it in my face, though it did not go
off; but I have not seen a revolver or any other dangerous weapon in the
hands of any other member of the party, though I believe this prisoner
has one."
"You say you have fastened them into the cabin?" queried Mr. Bushby.
"I will tell you all about it;" and Dory proceeded to do so.
Before he had finished his narrative, the La Motte had entered the
river. The Sylph came up within hailing-distance of her, and directed
her to come to under the lee of the shore. As she did so, the steamer
came alongside of her; and Captain Gildrock directed the captain to have
the two vessels lashed together.
The principal had a smile on his face when he came on the deck of the
schooner, though he did not abate one jot of his dignity. Dory did not
expect to be censured, but he did not like the looks of that smile; and
he was sure that it had been put on for his benefit. It was an
indication that his uncle did not fully approve what he had done, though
he would not condemn him till he knew all the facts in the case. He knew
that Captain Gildrock never encouraged any thing like knight-errantry in
the students. He liked manly boys, but he did not believe that they
should be any older than their years would allow.
The sails of the schooner were lowered; and the Sylph went ahead, towing
her up the river. The principal spoke very kindly to Dory, but the smile
still played upon his face. He hardly looked at the prisoners on deck,
and seated himself on the rail. At his request, Dory gave a minute
account of every thing that happened since he heard the explosion early
in the morning.
His uncle listened with deep interest, and occasionally asked a
question. Once or twice they were disturbed by the racket made by the
prisoners in the cabin. Possibly they had tapped another keg of beer,
but nothing indicated that they were aware of the state of things on
deck.
"I am not going to blame or condemn you for what you have done, Dory;
but I wish you had come home when Mr. Brookbine did," said Captain
Gildrock, with the smile somewhat intensified, when his nephew had
finished his narrative, and the two vessels were just going into
Beechwater. "And I should have liked it still better if you had kept
entirely away from the robbers. You have endangered your life, and
frightened your mother almost out of her wits."
"I thought I ought to do something, and I did the best I could," replied
Dory. "You have got back all the money that was stolen; and all the
robbers have been captured, and handed over to the officers."
"As a boy of seventeen, you have conducted your pursuit with remarkable
skill; you have been courageous beyond your years; you have been
persistent and persevering to a degree that could hardly have been
expected of many men of mature age. I appreciate your skill, courage,
and perseverance; and still, I wish you had not done these things,
though they will add greatly to your reputation."
"Then, I ought to have turned in after the explosion, and let these
fellows do the same thing over again in some other place?" added Dory,
with a cheerful smile, for he did not consider himself at all damaged by
what his uncle had said.
"The reason why I wish you had not done these things is a purely selfish
one,--simply because you exposed yourself to a very great peril. If that
revolver had not missed fire, you might have been killed."
"If one of the fellows fall overboard, I am to let him drown because my
mother will be frightened, or because I take the risk of drowning
myself," said Dory, laughing now.
His uncle bit his lip, and Dory felt that he had the best of the
argument. At any rate, the uncle did not think it wise to say any thing
more about the matter; and the schooner was made fast to the wharf. The
Goldwing landed her crew a little later.
CHAPTER XXVI.
"SEE, THE CONQUERING HERO COMES!"
The Goldwing had hardly landed her crew, before the Lily came up to the
wharf. Then came the Marian, whose party had not lost sight of the
schooner, though they had no suspicion that their late passengers had
any relations with the robbers. All the students were so much excited by
their curiosity to know more about the robbers, and about the doings of
Dory, that sailing and handling a steam-yacht were for the time lacking
in interest to them. The captains of the several craft had full powers,
and they could instruct and practise their crews as well in the river as
on the lake.
All the students, therefore, were soon collected on the wharf. As soon
as Dory showed himself on the deck of the La Motte, he was loudly and
enthusiastically cheered by his companions, who had learned enough about
his exploits to understand that he had captured about all the laurels
earned in connection with the robbery.
Not only the students had gathered on the wharf, but every person,
including the domestics, had rushed there as soon as it was known that
the schooner had arrived. Not a few people from the town swelled the
crowd. The prisoner who was bound to the rail, and Ripples with his arms
still tied behind him, were in sight of the spectators. There was
evidence enough that something had been done in the capture of these
fellows.
"Where is Dory?" almost screamed Mrs. Dornwood, as she saw Captain
Gildrock on the deck of the La Motte. "Is he hurt? Has he been shot, or
any thing?"
"He is here, and he is all right, Patty," replied the principal.
"Then, let me see him, and be sure of it," added the poor mother.
Dory was just then pointing out to the officers the manner in which the
machinist had secured the opening to the hold, and he was not in sight
of those on the wharf.
"Here, Dory!" called the principal. "Your mother wants to see you."
Dory came to the waist, for he was devoted to his mother; and the only
thing that grieved him in connection with the events of the morning, was
the fact that she had been alarmed about him. He sprang lightly upon the
rail of the vessel; and the moment he showed himself again, there was a
fresh outburst of applause, in which the servants of the house and the
citizens of the town joined, though the students engineered the cheers.
Dory stood on the rail a moment, looking for his mother in the crowd.
"Here he is, Patty, with a wreath of laurels on his brow!" shouted the
captain, laughing. "I would rather have lost the money, and ten times as
much more, and let the robbers escape, than had him run the risk he has
incurred; but it can't be helped now, Patty. He has had a revolver
snapped in his face, and has had a mortal struggle with the chief in an
open boat in a heavy sea, to say nothing of bagging nine wide-awake
ruffians at one haul of the net."
But Dory had jumped down from the rail of the vessel, and his mother
clasped him in her arms as though he were not a great fellow of nearly
eighteen, and as though she had not seen him for ten years. The crowd
cheered again when the captain finished his little speech, which he got
off more as a pleasantry than as a serious matter; a sort of
acknowledgment, which had been wrung from him by circumstances beyond
his control.
Dory was like other boys, and he did not exactly like to be hugged by
his mother in the presence of so many people; but even the boys thought
it was quite natural and proper. In vain Dory protested that he had not
been hurt, and that it was not a very big thing to "shake down" such a
fellow as Mr. Michael Angelo Spickles: his mother kept on hugging him,
and the crowd kept on cheering him.
"But I must go on board, mother; for these fellows are all shut up in
the cabin still, and I know something about them," protested the hero,
trying to break away from her. "Just as soon as the officers take them
away, I will tell you all about it."
At last she permitted him to leave her, and he jumped upon the rail; but
his appearance, where he could be seen by all, was the signal for
another outbreak of applause.
"'See, the conquering hero comes!'" exclaimed the principal, who was
also standing on the rail.
"You are cutting it altogether too fat, uncle Royal," said Dory,
laughing; though he did not often address this style of remark to him.
"Where is Mr. Jepson?"
"He is assisting in opening the hatch," replied the principal.
"I should like to inquire if he was not with me, for I have a very
distinct impression that he took an active part in all that was done."
"Mr. Jepson!" called the principal.
"See, the other conquering hero comes!" shouted Dory, as the machinist
came into the presence of the captain.
"What is the matter, Dory?" asked the instructor.
"They are making game of me all around, and I want you to help me out
with it."
"I am entirely sincere in all I have said," added Captain Gildrock. "You
deserve all the praise you have received, and all you are likely to
receive in the future, for your bravery and skill; though I wish you had
not exposed yourself."
"But Mr. Jepson has been with me all the time, and I am not guilty of
any more bravery and skill than he is. I could not have done any thing
alone; and he did just as much as I did with his head and his hands, and
he deserves to be slobbered as much as I do."
"Three cheers for the instructor in mechanics!" shouted a student who
had heard the conversation.
They were given with quite as much vim as those for Dory.
"But Dory was the leader of the enterprise, though I did the best I
could to support him," added the machinist.
"You have done exceedingly well, both of you; but we will drop this
subject for the time, and open the cabin-doors," said the principal, as
he led the way to the quarter-deck of the schooner.
It was an easy matter to remove the brace which secured the cabin-doors,
and to take out the strip of board which held the slide in its place. If
either Mack or Ripples had had a moment of liberty after he came on deck
from the cabin-window, he could have released his companions below.
After Dory's talk with Chuck over the stern of the vessel, the party
below were quiet, evidently believing that the deck was in possession of
the two who had made their egress through the cabin-windows.
When the door was opened, Chuck, as the leader by succession, was the
first to step on the deck. He could not have helped hearing the tramp of
many feet on the planks over his head, but he had no positive knowledge
of what was going on. He seemed to be astonished at the fact that the
vessel was alongside a wharf, and he looked with amazement on the crowd
that had gathered near the La Motte.
"What sort of a circus is this?" demanded he, bewildered, as he looked
around him.
"It's all up with us, Chuck," said Mack at the rail. "Shut your mouth,
and keep it shut."
"But I don't understand what all this means," persisted the astonished
successor of Mr. Spickles. "Didn't you tell me that you had knocked over
the two fellows on deck, and taken possession of the vessel?"
"No, I didn't!" snapped Mack, who did not appear to be in an amiable
mood.
"That was a bit of strategy on the part of Dory," interposed the
machinist.
"I told you that we had knocked over the two fellows, but they were the
two you sent on deck through the cabin-windows," added Dory.
"There seems to be two classes of these men," said Mr. Bushby. "A part
of them had no hand in the robbery, and were not in the vessel at the
time; but I don't know them apart."
"This is one of the robbers: he went to the shore with the two who
blowed up the safe, and helped them off," added Dory. "The one who is
tied to the rail is the fellow that was in the office with Angy."
"Who is Angy?"
"He is the one in the lock-up."
The four companions of Ripples were the next to appear, and Dory
declared that they were not of the robbers; and he believed that they
knew nothing about the robbery, either before or after the crime was
committed. Sangfraw and Wickwood were the last to show themselves, and
they were still quite boozy with the beer they had drunk.
"These two were on board of the La Motte, and were the ship-keepers;
while the other three went ashore to commit the robbery," continued
Dory.
"Then, I shall hold them; for they knew all about it, to say the least,"
said Mr. Bushby, as he and his associate slipped the handcuffs on their
wrists, as they had done with Chuck.
"Did Ripples know any thing about the robbery?" asked the principal of
the last two.
"Not a thing," replied Sang promptly.
"I came here for the most honest frolic in the world," protested
Ripples.
"You can take the strings off his arms if you like," said Mr. Bushby. "I
have heard enough to satisfy me that five of them had nothing to do with
the robbery, and I shall not arrest them."
"This will be a big lesson to me," said Ripples, as Dory removed the
line from his arms.
The next thing was to search the vessel. Sang and Wick had weakened, and
were willing to tell all they knew about the ill-starred cruise of the
La Motte. With their assistance, a considerable sum of money was found
concealed under Angy's berth, together with other articles which showed
that the party had been engaged in the robberies at Plattsburg. Before
noon the four guilty ones were shut up with Mr. Spickles in the lock-up.
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE GUESTS OF THE INSTITUTION.
Ripples and his four companions were glad to find they were not involved
in the disaster which had overtaken the other half of the Nautifelers
Club. When the crowd on the wharf dispersed, they remained; for their
plans for the immediate future had been sadly deranged. But they were at
liberty to go where they pleased.
After they had discussed their situation for a while, they went into the
boat-house, hoping to find Captain Gildrock there. But no one was there.
It was so near dinner-time that the boats did not go out again that
forenoon. The La Motte, deserted by everybody, lay at the wharf; and
they went on board of her. But the principal soon appeared, and invited
them to dine with the students, which they thought was very kind of him.
After dinner he went to the wharf with them again. They had put their
bags and valises on board of her; and so far, they had been unable to
make up their minds what to do. The principal went into the cabin of the
schooner with them. On the table was mounted a cask of beer, which the
party had opened when they were prevented from coming on deck.
"When a lot of young men fasten themselves to a beer-keg, it is not at
all difficult to tell what will become of them," said the principal, as
he seated himself on the locker in front of the berths. "It is to them
just what whiskey is to older men, and the whiskey, in this country, is
pretty sure to follow the beer."
"I never thought there was any great harm in beer," replied Ripples.
"I should say that it helped your friend Spickles into the lock-up. Of
course, he had some bad tendencies; but they were stimulated by his
beer. I may be wrong, but I do not believe he would have made so short a
career of evil without the help of beer."
"Let's throw it overboard, fellows," suggested Ripples to his
companions.
"All right!" shouted several of them, impressed by the lesson which the
principal drew from the fate of Spickles.
A couple of them hastened on deck with the half empty beer-keg, and
threw its contents into the lake. The others searched for more of the
article; and they found two kegs of it in the hold, which followed the
first lot.
"No more beer for me!" exclaimed Ripples.
Two of the others said the same thing, and two said nothing; but all of
them seemed to be satisfied that beer was a dangerous luxury for young
men. The principal enlarged a little on the subject. He said that men,
old as well as young, were sometimes led so near the abyss of crime as
to be saved, even when they were hanging over it. They went far enough
to see into it, and the sight reformed them. He thought the five before
him ought to take warning from the fate of their companions; and they
had apparently accepted the warning.
"You came up to the lake to spend your vacation, I understand,"
continued Captain Gildrock.
"Yes, sir: that is what we came for. It seems now that Angy had planned
a series of robberies, from which he was to obtain the funds to carry on
the excursion for a couple of months; but we knew nothing about that. We
are all sons of men of standing in New York, and I begin to think we
were to furnish the respectability for the crowd."
"Very likely," added the principal with a smile. "If Spickles had
reached the schooner without being discovered, he would have been at
Ticonderoga this morning before you left; that is, if the violent storm
had not upset his calculations. He would have taken your party on board;
and with the proceeds of the burglaries, amounting to several thousand
dollars, he would have been able to run the schooner all summer."
"I had no suspicion that he was such a fellow," added Ripples, shaking
his head. "But I confess that I am greatly disappointed at the failure
of the excursion, though I have no doubt it is the best thing in the
world for us."
"So far as the excursion that was planned in New York is concerned, it
is certainly a godsend to you that it failed; and even if half of your
club had not come to grief, the result would have been the same. A month
or two in company of such fellows as the burglars, guzzling beer, would
have taken you a long way down towards a life of dissipation and evil."
"I begin to think so myself. I suppose my father will read about this
affair in the newspapers; and I am sure it will make him shake,"
continued Ripples. "I will write to him as soon as I get a chance, and
tell him all about it."
"If you will give me his address, I will give him my impressions of the
matter," said Captain Gildrock.
"Thank you, sir: you are very kind, and I should be glad to have you
tell him that his son has not been guilty of any crime. But I suppose we
might as well go home: our fun here is spoiled," replied Ripples.
"The proposed excursion, as you understood it, was certainly an innocent
one. For what time had Spickles chartered this vessel?" asked the
principal.
"For two months; and paid down for one month."
"As you are a part of the party, it seems to me that the schooner
belongs to you for the time it was engaged; and there is nothing to
prevent you from making the excursion around the lake, and remaining
upon it as long as you please," suggested the captain.
"There is only one thing in the way of doing that: we have no skipper,
and we are not competent to handle the vessel. Angy was the only one of
us who knew how to handle a schooner, though Mack and Chuck knew
something about the business," replied Ripples.
"If you will remain in the vicinity of Beaver River, I will furnish a
person to instruct you in managing the vessel. You are welcome to remain
as long as you please at the school," added the principal.
Ripples and his companions thanked the captain for this privilege, and
manifested a good deal of interest in the affairs of Beech Hill. By this
time the students had gathered in the schoolroom to attend to the
lecture which had been suspended, and the guests of the institution were
invited to be present.
"I have fully explained to you all that it is possible to have you
comprehend in regard to a ship, or any square-rigged vessel, without
actual practice," the principal began, as he took his place on the
platform. "As I said this morning, I prefer to tell you what you want to
know."
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, at least a dozen hands were
raised; and it was plain that the students were primed with questions in
regard to nautical matters, and wanted their information from competent
authority.
"What is sailing on a bowline? I found it in a book the other day,"
asked Bark Duxbury, when the principal nodded to him.
"You pronounce it as though it were two words. Say bo-lin," replied the
principal, as he went to the blackboard, and drew one side of a topsail,
showing the leech.
"The main to' bowline is what I want to know about," added Bark.
"You have been trying to put yourself into the pickle," added the
principal with a smile, as he noticed the manner in which he clipped out
the p. "This is the leech of the main-topsail, we will suppose, though
it will answer just as well for any other sail. These are the bridles,"
he added, as he drew three lines of unequal length from the leech at the
lower part.
Then starting a line from above the upper one, he carried it so as to
touch the outer end of each of the short ones, and continued it in a
curve for some distance from the leech.
"The long line is the bowline, and the short ones are the bridles. The
bowline leads to the foremast, and through a block down to the deck. All
the square-sails may be provided with bowlines, which lead forward,
either to a mast or to a stay. They are used only on the windward-side
of the ship."
"What are they for, sir?"
"They are used only when the ship is close-hauled; and by them the leech
of the sail is hauled forward so as to catch all the wind there is,"
replied the principal.
"I don't know about close-hauled," said Rag Spinner.
"Tell him, Ash Burton."
"A vessel is close-hauled when she is sailing as nearly as she can to
windward, as when she is beating," answered Ash.
"Precisely so; and a vessel is sailing on a bowline when she is as close
to the wind as she can get. On a taut bowline is the same thing."
"Is it proper to use that expression about a boat, the Goldwing or the
Lily?" asked Bark.
"It might pass if you wished to be extra salt, though it is hardly
applicable. In fact, bowlines are but little used nowadays."
"What is scudding under bare poles?" asked Sam Spottwood.
"It is a literal expression, and means sailing without any sail set. In
a heavy gale, a very heavy one, when a ship can carry no sail, she
sometimes scuds before the wind."
"What is wearing?" inquired Archie Pinkler.
"Do you know what tacking means?"
"Yes, sir: it is changing from one tack to another."
"To the other, for there are only two tacks in this sense. But which way
do you come about?"
"Stick her head right up into the wind," answered Archie, using an
expression he had learned that morning.
"Right, my boy: you are quite a sailor. Sometimes the head of the vessel
will not come about: it may be on account of a current, or a want of
head-sail. In that case, she has to wear around the other way, with the
wind, instead of against it. Box-hauling, in a square-rigged vessel, is
wearing by backing the head-sails, those on the foremast."
The students continued to ask questions of this kind till the clock
struck two, and then they were dismissed to sail the boats.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
STATIONS FOR GETTING UNDER WAY.
"My occupation is gone, like Othello's," said Thad Glovering, when the
students assembled on the wharf after the lecture. "Dory can teach his
own flock now."
"But I have another class for you," interposed the principal, who
happened to hear the remark. "The remnant of the Nautifelers Club have
decided to have their excursion on the lake, and they will remain in the
vicinity of the school. They don't know how to handle a schooner, and
you may make sailors of them, Glovering. You may take two of the
students with you, or three."
"Corny Minkfield, Nat Long, and Dick Short, if you please," suggested
Thad.
The principal assented, and the party went on board of the La Motte. The
schooner was put in order, and Dory suggested that her first trip be
made to obtain the hatches which had been left on the beach at
Camp-Meeting Point. The new skipper set his crew at work; and, as the
wind had moderated to a lively breeze, she went off under a whole
mainsail and jib.
The class of unskilled boatmen, as they all were except Ash Burton, were
on board of the Goldwing. Dory shoved off the sloop; and when she had
drifted some distance from the wharf, he let go the anchor.
"What in the world is that for, Dory? I thought we were going out on the
lake to take a lesson in sailing," said Ben Sinker.
"So we are; but I thought we would begin at the beginning," replied
Dory. "It is as necessary to know how to come to anchor as it is to do
any thing else in sailing a boat."
"All you have to do is to throw it overboard when you want to stop,"
said Archie.
"Suppose you were coming into Beechwater with a lively breeze, such as
we have to-day, how would you manage to anchor in the middle of it?"
asked the skipper.
"When we got to the middle of the lake, I should drop the anchor,"
answered Archie.
"And a pretty mess you would make of it! If you were coming in under jib
and mainsail, you would take in the jib some time before you reached the
locality where you wished to anchor. Then, as you near the anchorage,
you would come to, or throw her up into the wind, thus spilling the
mainsail. When the boat had lost her headway, or most of it, you would
let go the anchor. If you kept the sail drawing, you would drag the
anchor, get aground, or run into some other craft."
"Suppose you are caught in a sudden squall?" asked Ash.
"You should not allow yourself to be caught in a sudden squall. A
boatman should be always on the lookout for such things. Squalls don't
come out of a blue sky; and when the weather is threatening, the skipper
should get ready for it."
"But suppose the skipper was careless, and did get caught?" persisted
Ash.
"In that case, he would not let go the anchor; for he could not well do
any thing worse than that with his sails set. If the skipper can't haul
down the jib, he should not anchor. But he could take in sail quicker
than he could get the anchor to bite."
"Bite? Does the anchor bite? I shall be afraid of it," said Archie.
"It would not bite you; but an anchor is said to bite when it gets hold
at the bottom of the lake. You don't anchor in a squall unless you have
got the sails down. More of that farther on. I have told you how to come
to anchor under ordinary circumstances. You must make your plan for
doing so beforehand."
"I think I could anchor her," said Archie.
"It is not a dangerous operation. If the wind blows hard, you need a
long rode, which means a long cable. In a blow, there is a heavy sea,
and the motion of the boat causes a constant jerking on the anchor. With
a short rode, it may lift it so that the flukes are detached from the
bottom, especially if it be rocky. The longer the cable, the less the
slant of the rope. In Lake Champlain, the water is four hundred feet
deep in some places."
"Where, Dory?" asked Ash.
"In the middle of the lake, between Essex and Wing's Point; and it is
nearly that off Split Rock Point. Fifty fathoms, or three hundred feet,
would be a very long cable in these waters: but it would be useless
anywhere out in the middle of the lake. It is almost three hundred feet
deep within a stone's-throw of Thomson's Point. The moral of all this
is, that you must know the bottom of the lake as well as the top when
you want to anchor. As a general rule, you must run into some bay for
the purpose."
"But a fellow may be caught out in the middle of the lake when the bad
weather comes," suggested Ash.
"Then he must take his chances; but he need not be caught if he looks
out in season. If it looks like bad weather, get under a lee if you can.
Don't anchor off a lee-shore if it can be avoided. Look out in season.
That will do for anchoring till we get caught in a tight place. Now we
will get under way. Take the stops off the mainsail."
"What is a gasket, Dory?" asked Ash.
"Some boatmen call the stops a gasket. Properly, a gasket is the rope
used to fasten the sail to the yard or boom when it is furled. Sometimes
the gasket is made of strips of canvas sewed together, or ropes plaited
into a flat shape. I want you all to have your stations, so that, when
the order is given, it can be executed without calling any names. Archie
Pinkler and Con Bunker may take the throat-halyards, and Syl Peckman and
Hop Cabright the peak-halyards. These are your stations in hoisting or
lowering the mainsail. Ben Sinker will stand by the main-sheet, overhaul
it, and make it fast when told to do so. Ash Burton will take the
wheel."
The students designated took their places; and the mainsail was hoisted,
though the skipper was obliged to give a good many directions. Then he
required them to lower the sail, and go through the routine again. The
second time the work satisfied him, and it was done in half the time it
required the first time.
"This is precisely the way they get a ship, or any larger vessel, under
way," continued Dory. "The first thing is to set the principal sails,
never including the head-sails."
"What are the head-sails?" asked Con.
"In a sloop, the term applies to the jib only. In a ship, it may include
all the sails forward of the mainmast. In getting under way, the next
thing to be done after the principal sails are set, is to heave up the
anchor to a short stay; though we don't generally take the trouble to do
this in small boats. It means simply to get the anchor nearly up, which
is indicated by the cable being something near up and down."
"What's the use of doing that?" asked the critical Archie.
"Because it is generally necessary to work lively after most of the
sails are set. After the sails are shaken out on board of a ship, they
don't want to wait a long time to heave up the whole of the cable.
Archie and Syl shall have their stations at the cable, and Con and Hop
at the jib-halyards. Now, just to show how it is done, you may heave up
the anchor to a short stay; that is, haul in on the cable till the bow
of the boat is nearly over the anchor; but don't trip it."
"Trip it?" queried Archie, though the meaning of the term was clear
enough to all of them.
"Just as you would trip a fellow up on shore; lift the mud-hook from the
bottom," added Dory rather impatiently. "When you get the cable in the
position required, Archie, it will be your duty to report the fact by
saying, 'Cable up and down.'"
Archie and Syl hauled in on the cable? the latter pulling upon the rope,
and the former coiling it up as it came in, as directed by the skipper.
"Cable up and down," reported Archie, prompted by Syl.
"Con is strong enough to hoist the jib alone; and Hop will overhaul the
downhaul, and see that it runs out clear as the sail goes up. Then, as
soon as the sail is well up, Hop will pass the halyard under the cleat,
while Con swigs up; but not yet," continued the skipper.
The hands at the jib made every thing ready to hoist the sail.
"Now the two hands at the anchor will be ready to trip it. The moment it
is clear of the bottom, Archie will say, 'Anchor a-weigh.' Then I shall
give the order to hoist the jib. Are you all ready there?"
"All ready," replied Archie, who was getting up a deep interest in the
operations.
"Trip the anchor," added Dory in a quiet tone.
"Anchor a-weigh!" shouted Archie.
"Hoist the jib," continued the skipper. "Keep on with your work at the
anchor, Archie and Syl, and don't leave it till you have stowed it away
in its place, and coiled up the cable, so that it will run out freely if
we have occasion to anchor again in two minutes. On a boat, ropes should
not be snarled up, but every one of them should be properly disposed for
use at any moment."
The cable led through a block under the bowsprit. When it came
home,--which is the nautical expression used when any thing is hauled up
to the point where it belongs, or as far as can be,--an iron hook was
thrown over one of the arms, and the anchor was hauled inboard by a line
attached to it. This arrangement made it easy to weigh the anchor.
While the two hands were at the anchor, Con and Hop were hoisting the
jib. Ash was directed to put the helm a-lee, and Ben to stand by the
main-sheet. The moment the anchor was clear of the bottom, the jib began
to fill, and the head of the boat swung off.
"Stand by the jib-sheets, Hop, while Con coils up the jib-halyards,"
said Dory, after they had "swigged up" the rope.
But the jib-sheets led aft, and Dory trimmed them down himself. It was a
dead beat to windward to get out of Beechwater, and the two sails were
close-hauled. In a moment every thing was in good order, the cable and
the halyards had all been disposed of, as directed, and Ben had made a
very nice coil of the spare part of the main-sheet on the floor of the
standing-room. The crew were surprised to see with how little fuss the
boat had got under way. Dory knew how, and every thing seemed to work to
a charm for that reason.
"Now what tack are we on?" asked the skipper.
"On the starboard-tack," replied all of them in one breath, for they had
profited by the instructions of Thad in the morning.
"Right. And the act of getting under way, as we did, is called 'casting
on the starboard-tack,'" added Dory.
"Well, we couldn't cast on any other," suggested Hop, as they were all
seated in the standing-room.
"It would have been just as easy to cast on the port-tack as on the
starboard," replied the instructor.
"It seems to me that it is just as the wind happens to hit the sails on
one side or the other," added Hop.
"There is no happen about it. I cast on the starboard because it gives
us the longest tack in this pond. When any boat or vessel is at anchor,
she points her nose directly into the wind. Then it is as easy to cast
on one tack as the other."
"But after the mainsail is set, the boat keeps flopping one way and the
other," said Con.
"If you make fast the main-sheet, it will. In that case, you are to take
advantage of the right moment to trip the anchor and set the jib. It is
sometimes necessary to sway off the boom to get her in position."
By this time the Goldwing was nearing the shore on the west side.
CHAPTER XXIX.
ALL OF DORY'S CLASS BECOME SKIPPERS.
"Ready about!" shouted Dory, with more vim than he usually put into his
orders.
But there was nothing to do, for any one except Ash at the wheel; for
the skipper had not stationed the crew for tacking. He had not had time
to do so. The lower block of the main-sheet ran on a traveller, which is
an iron rod set a couple of inches above the taffrail, or piece across
the top of the stern. The ring under the block plays freely, or travels
on it, from one side to the other. As the wind carries the sail and boom
over, the sheet-block follows it. Of course, the sheet is trimmed so the
boom may be at the right angle with the keel, on whichever tack the boat
may be.
Dory explained the working of the sheet, and gave the names of the parts
of the rigging used. He took hold of the jib-sheets himself, and gave
the order to put the helm to port. As the sails began to shake, he cast
off the lee-sheet, and passed over to the other side of the
standing-room.
"Hard a-lee!" he continued, which meant that the helm was to be put down
as far as it would go.
The Goldwing came about handsomely, as she always did under fair
treatment: the boom went over to the starboard. The skipper then hauled
in the port, which had become the lee, sheet, as the sail went over. The
breeze was lively, and the boat worked quickly.
"Meet her, Ash," said Dory; and the helmsman threw the wheel over till
he could feel the pressure of the water on the rudder as the sails
filled.
"What do you mean by 'meet her'?" asked Archie.
"The helm was hard down when I gave that order," replied the skipper.
"If it had remained in that position, it would have been hard up after
the sails filled, and the sloop would have continued to swing around
till she was before the wind; and it would take time to get her back to
her proper course. As soon as the boat begins to catch the wind on the
new tack, the helm must be shifted to meet her. When the boat was on the
starboard-tack, all the pressure of the water was on the weather-side of
the rudder, as the Goldwing carries a weather-helm. As soon as the boat
begins to swing, this pressure is removed. There is none to speak of on
either side. But as soon as she begins to fill on the port-tack, the
pressure comes on that side."
"And you feel it the instant it begins to bear on the rudder," added
Ash.
"You want the sails to fill on the new tack, and she should be met with
the helm before she has fallen off much beyond her proper course. In a
light wind, when the boat moves sluggishly, she may fall off somewhat
before she feels the pressure on the rudder."
"She isn't on any thing, and I don't see how she can fall off," said
Archie, the critic.
"Yes, she is on something: she is on the wind, and she falls off when
she goes to leeward. As Ash says, he can feel the pressure as soon as
the sails fill; and we sail a boat quite as much by the feeling as by
the use of the eyes. Mr. Herschoff, who built the Sylph, is one of the
best boatmen in the country, and he is totally blind. Of course, he has
to work the boat entirely by the feeling; and those who have good eyes
do it largely in the same way. Practice alone can give you this skill."
"Thad said the keel and the rudder balanced the sails, and kept up a
sort of equilibrium," added Syl.
"That was quite right. When you see a fellow on a tight-rope in the
circus, with a long pole in his hands, you may observe that he keeps
lifting one end or the other. He throws the weight of the pole, the ends
of which are loaded with lead, to one side or the other to preserve his
balance. You shift the helm for the same reason. You can tell what the
boat is doing with your eyes shut after you get used to her. When a flaw
of wind comes, it throws a boat with a weather-helm up into the wind;
and if you were blindfolded, the tiller or the wheel would tell you all
about it."
"What do you do when the flaw comes?" asked Archie.
"Meet it with the helm if it is not too stiff for her."
"Suppose it is strong enough to capsize her if she keeps her course?"
Hop inquired.
"Let her come up into the wind a little more than the course requires.
If you let her up far enough, of course you will spill the sail, and the
flaw can do her no harm. This is what sailors would call 'touching her
up,' and that is just what we do when the wind comes too strong for the
boat. You could keep her balanced, even in a hurricane, for a moment or
two with the sails drawing just enough to give her steerage-way.
Generally, flaws don't last more than a moment, and you fill away as
soon as they pass. You may have to work sharp to keep her from filling
on the other tack."
"A fellow has got to do it before he will know how," added Hop.
"Now, Con, I will station you at the port jib-sheet, and you, Hop, at
the starboard," said the skipper.
"Why don't you say the weather and lee sheet?" asked Archie.
"Because they would have to change places every time we tack. The
lee-sheet is sometimes on one side, and sometimes on the other, as you
may see for yourself," answered the skipper. "Ready about! That is
simply the order for those who have any thing to do in tacking to be
ready to do it; just as the military officer gives a warning
'Attention--company!' 'Shoulder--arms!' Not a soldier moves till the
last word is uttered. Ready about!"
The two sheet-hands took hold of the ropes, and the helmsman was ready
to move the wheel. At the command, "Starboard the helm," Ash put it down
a little, and the head of the boat crawled gradually up into the wind.
"Hard a-lee!" said Dory. "Cast off all but one turn on the lee-sheet,
Hop. Let go the lee-sheet!" added the skipper a moment later, when the
jib shook in the wind. "Haul in on your port-sheet! Trim it down! Meet
her with the helm!"
The change from one tack to the other was quickly made. The sloop worked
to perfection, and the students had mastered the lesson in tacking. As
they had to beat through a part of the narrow channel to the river, they
had plenty of practice in a very short time.
"There is no need of all these orders after you have learned your duty.
There is a sort of buncombe in using them in a small craft, or in any
craft except a man-of-war. 'Ready about' should always be used. After
that, on board of a ship, 'Let go and haul' is about all that is
necessary, and it will do here. Let go the lee-sheet, and haul on the
weather, supplies the ellipsis," said Dory, as the Goldwing came out
into the river where she had more sea-room.
"I think I understand it now," added Archie.
"I think you do, all but the practice," replied the skipper. "I shall
resign my office now as captain, and ask Ash to fill my place for a
while. You may take the wheel, Ben Sinker; and I shall not say a word,
unless you are likely to upset the boat."
Ben went to the wheel, and Ash assumed the position of skipper.
"Where shall we go?" asked the new captain.
"After you get out of the river, go up the lake, and that will be a dead
beat to windward," answered Dory.
"The wind has almost died out," said Hop, as he looked about him.
"Not much!" replied Ash.
"When you are running in a boat before the wind, there seems to be
little or no breeze," said Dory, who did not abandon his function as
instructor. "When you ride in a carriage in a hot day, with the wind,
you feel the heat. So in a boat. I have been nearly roasted on the lake
in this boat when I was going before the wind, while it would be
comfortably cool on the wind. The motion of the boat kills the breeze.
Some boatmen make Hop's blunder, and put on more sail than they can
bear; and then it is a dangerous error."
"Haul in on the main-sheet! A pull on the lee jib-sheet!" said Ash, when
the Goldwing came to a bend in the river, which made it necessary to
brace up the boat a little more.
After the change of course, the breeze came fresher; and Hop realized
his mistake, by experience. The sloop went rapidly down the river with
the wind about on the beam, or across the width of the boat, and out
into the lake. The waves were lively there; and they were short and
choppy, giving the boat a jerky motion.
"I suppose you know where the bottom is, out here, Ash," said Dory.
"I think I do; and it is pretty near the top of the water for a mile. I
shall hold her on her present course till we have made about that
distance from the mouth of the river."
"About half a mile from the point will cover it, but it is best to be on
the safe side. When Diamond Island shuts in Split Rock Light, you are
all right for any course except south," added Dory.
"I suppose nobody but Ash is expected to understand that remark," said
Archie. "Shuts it in!"
"In other words, when you can see Split Rock Light over Diamond Island,
you are far enough from the shore to avoid the shoals off Field's Bay,"
Dory explained.
"I can understand that," added Archie.
"If the light were not more than two feet above the water, we could not
see it all when we come to the position described, for it would be shut
in. I have about two hundred ranges written down in a book at home, and
this is one of them. Sometimes they put two lighthouses on a shore. If
one shut out the other, you could tell, in one case, how far north you
had gone. When I am going into the river with the Sylph, I don't run in
till I have brought the tip of the point in range with the white chimney
on Paucett's house. The more of these ranges you learn, the better you
will be qualified to sail a boat on Lake Champlain."
It was nearly dark when the Goldwing returned to the school; but every
member of the class had taken his turn in sailing the boat, and each
thought he knew as much as Dory about it.
CHAPTER XXX.
THE GOLDWING'S TRIP TO PLATTSBURG.
During the following week, Dory's class in the Goldwing made trips in
the boat after the close of the labors in the shop. One of the members
took charge of the sloop in each of these trips, and the lesson was
still "Beating to windward." In this way, all of them learned how to
work a boat to windward; and it was the most difficult lesson for them
to learn, for it required a great deal of judgment.
One student would steer so close to the wind that the boat was cramped,
and could not get ahead; while another let her get so far off the wind,
that she failed to accomplish what she was competent to do. It required
a great deal of practice to enable the different skippers to hit the
golden mean. They did remarkably well, though not one of them became
proficient at once.
On the return from the excursion, they had some experience in sailing
before the wind, and in all directions between that and close-hauled.
Matt Randolph was always out at the same time in the Lily, with his
class. Although the latter was a schooner, the lesson was precisely the
same. She carried a crew of twelve, and they were all stationed as in
the Goldwing. The foresail was handled in the same manner as the
mainsail. The only question that could come up on board of her, that did
not have to be considered on the sloop, was whether or not, in a blow,
the foresail should be set.
During the week, there was an examination of the five burglars, and all
of them were fully committed for trial. The Plattsburg robberies were
fastened upon them, and some of the money and other property found on
board of the La Motte was restored to the owners. There was a great deal
of difference of opinion in regard to the relative guilt of the robbers,
for it did not appear that Sangfraw and Wickwood had any thing more than
a criminal knowledge of the deeds of the other three. Besides, they were
truly repentant, and told all they knew about the schemes of their
companions, who denied all they could to the last.
At the trial, some weeks later, Spickles got seven years in the State
Prison; the two who actually assisted him in his enterprises, received a
sentence of five years; while the remaining two were let off with only
one year. The chief of the Nautifelers Club, who was the author and
finisher of all the schemes, both of pleasure and plunder, preserved his
self-possession through the trial; but by the time he was shut up for
seven long years, he began to wish that he had followed the course in
life which Matt Randolph had marked out for himself.
Thad Glovering trained the party on board of the La Motte, in the
management of the vessel; and at the end of a couple of weeks, they left
Beech Hill, to undertake a cruise without his aid. They were very much
pleased with what they saw of the institution; and they left the school
much wiser, morally and intellectually, than when they came there.
On the following Saturday morning at daylight, Dory and his class were
on board of the Goldwing for an entire day of sailing, and were going to
Plattsburg. The sloop had been provisioned for the cruise; and the party
were in a high state of enthusiasm, for it had been promised them a week
before. Dory had rigged out the flying jib-boom, and put all the "kites"
on board, so that the sloop could make the best of a light wind.
At four o'clock in the morning, when the party were ready to sail, there
was scarcely a breath of air. Thad had taught them all there was to
learn about a gaff-topsail, and they had worked the parts and methods
over in their own minds. But when they came to apply their knowledge,
they found that practice was quite different from theory.
"Bend on the gaff-topsail-halyards," said Dory, after the mainsail had
been set.
This place had been assigned to Archie Pinkler; while Con Bunker was
stationed at the tack, and Syl Peckman at the sheet. Dory had put all
the running-rigging in place for handling the extra sails, but Archie
did not know where to find the halyard. Both ends of this rope were made
fast at the rail, on the port-side of the mast.
"You will always find the halyards there, Archie; and it is not
necessary for you to learn about any other rigging connected with the
gaff-topsail at present, though you can't help picking up all the other
parts as they are brought into use. Now overhaul the halyards, and see
that they are not foul, so that you can hoist the sail without any
hitch."
The instructor would not allow any one to assist him; and he soon had
the rope in running order, and bent it on the sail. When he had hauled
the sail up so that the lower clews were just above the deck, Dory
stopped him.
"Now, Con, bend on the tack," continued the skipper.
"We don't bend any thing: what's the use of having such a word?"
"That's my son Yoppa's name," added Hop, laughing.
"Bend is the nautical word for make fast, and that is the particular
reason why I use it. Would you have me say, 'Tie the halyard to the
sail'? Bend it on, Con."
"I don't know where to look for it."
"The end you bend on to the sail is on the port-side, and the end you
haul upon is on the starboard-side. It is made fast abaft the cleat used
for the halyard, and you never need make a mistake. When Archie hoists
the sail to the mast-head, you will stand by the tack on the
starboard-side, and haul the rope over the gaff. The sheet is made fast
to a cleat on the main-boom, Syl; and, as the sail goes up, you will
haul on it just enough to prevent the rope from fouling. Hoist away,
Archie."
The setting of the sail was a decided success; and with less system, the
whole affair might easily have been snarled up, as it often is.
The anchor was weighed, the jib was hoisted, and the Goldwing remained
just where she had been at her moorings. There was no wind at all in the
lower regions; but the gaff-topsail soon filled, and the boat began to
move, though it could hardly be seen. Then Dory ordered the crew to set
the jib-topsail. This sail was fitted with snap-hanks, by which it could
be set upon the main-topmast-stay. Ash, as the best sailor in the party,
was sent out on the bowsprit to hook on the hanks. The halyard, which
led down the mast, was attached to it; and the sail went up into its
place, with the upper clew close to the topmast-head.
The upper part of the jib-topsail filled, and the motion of the sloop
was increased a little. Dory had a balloon-jib, which could also be used
as a spinnaker, in the cuddy. The Goldwing slowly moved towards the
creek; and, without the lofty sails she carried, she would not have
moved at all.
"It is part of a boatman's trade to know something about the weather,
for I don't think we shall have an up-and-down breeze much longer," said
Dory, as he looked about him. "The wind is about west now, and it is
very likely we shall have showers before night."
"Old Prob tells us all about the weather," added Ash.
"But you don't have Old Prob at your elbow all the time. Showers come up
in the west more than from any other quarter, and the clouds will tell
you what to expect. When a squall approaches, you can always see its
action on the water before it reaches you, unless you happen to be under
a weather-shore, which will shelter you to some extent. But you must
look out for your boat before you see the squall on the water. The
clouds will let you know that it is time to take in all kites."
In the river they got more wind, and the boat soon reached Lake
Champlain. By that time, it was blowing moderately from the west. With
her extra sails set, the Goldwing rushed rapidly through the water, with
the breeze on the beam. It continued to freshen; and after the sloop had
passed Split Rock Point, she had all she could carry. Ash Burton had the
helm, and the boat heeled over so that the rail occasionally went under.
It was exciting sailing.
"Now, I should like to know where the danger comes in," said Archie, as
he saw a little spray slop in over the washboard.
"It don't come in at all if the boat is properly handled," replied Dory.
"It would not be prudent to let her fall off a great deal."
"What would happen if she did fall off too much?" asked Con.
"Nothing at all, unless she were brought round far enough to place her
keel in line with the direction of the wind. Then, with the sails
trimmed as they are now, the boom would be likely to be carried over to
the opposite tack. It would fill on the other tack with a shock, which
might upset her. But even a blockhead would not let her do that."
"Suppose she did upset?" queried Ben Sinker.
"If she went over just here, she would go to the bottom in nearly four
hundred feet of water. But she will not be allowed to play you such a
trick as that. You might just as well drive your horse over a precipice
as let the boat upset," said Dory confidently.
"The boat is now down to her washboard; and it would not take much of a
flaw to put the board under, and fill the standing-room with water,"
added Archie.
"There comes a flaw; you can see it on the surface of the lake," replied
the skipper. "Now see what Ash does."
The gust of wind struck the sails; the boat heeled over till the water
came up to the top of the washboard; but, as Ash pulled the wheel
towards him, the head of the boat went to windward, and the pressure was
eased off. Dory asked the helmsman to put the helm a little farther
down. Then the sails all began to shake, and the sloop instantly came up
to an even keel.
"It looks easy enough," said Archie.
"It is easy enough, if you only mind what you are about. It takes some
strength at the wheel to keep her from doing that, as she carries a
weather-helm; so that you can't upset her in the way I explained, unless
you mean to do so," continued Dory.
But Dory was a prudent skipper, and he ordered the jib-topsail to be
taken in. Thus relieved, she went along swiftly and very comfortably. By
nine o'clock they arrived at Plattsburg, and spent a couple of hours
there. But they were more interested in sailing the boat than they were
in wandering about the streets of the town, though they were much
pleased with their visit to the beautiful garden of Fouquet's Hotel.
The return-trip was about the same thing till the Goldwing was in the
widest part of the lake, off Burlington. Then the black clouds began to
roll up in vast masses in the west, and the skipper said they looked
like wind. The gaff-topsail was taken in, the flying-jib was furled. The
lightning was terrific, and the thunder suggested earthquakes.
"We are in for it, sure," said Archie Pinkler; "and I don't like the
looks of things about this time."
"We are all of six miles from the land; and the wind is dying out, as it
often does before a tempest; and there is no backing out," said Dory.
"We shall have to take whatever comes, and do the best we can. The
greenhorn, on board of a ship, when a sudden storm came up, said he
thought he would take a biscuit, turn in, and call it half a day. He was
not allowed to do so, and you will not. Our safety requires that every
fellow should do his duty, and there is no shirking it."
"But why don't you take in sail, Dory?" asked Archie nervously.
"Because there is no need of it yet, and we may not have to take in sail
at all. Why don't you take medicine before you get sick? You need not be
nervous, Archie. We are all right; and I feel as much at home on board
of the Goldwing, as I should in my room at Beech Hill."
Suddenly what breeze there had been died out, and the sloop lay
motionless on the water. Dory told the crew to take in the jib, and
instructed those stationed at this sail to stow it and secure it with
the utmost care, so that it should not be blown out by the squall.
"There is the Marian," said Ash, as he saw her coming out from
Burlington.
"What does she come out for when there is going to be a squall?" asked
Ben.
"Because she will be safer out in the lake than at a wharf there, though
she might get behind the breakwater. She will do very well in a squall.
All she has to do, is to keep out of the trough of the sea, if it comes
on very hard," replied Dory. "At the very worst, in a hurricane, she
would put her head up to the sea, and keep her engine going. She will be
all right unless her engine breaks down."
The lake was as smooth as glass, and the boat lay "like a painted ship
upon a painted ocean." The members of the class looked at each other,
and some of them were doubtless afraid.
"Man the peak-halyards," said Dory quietly. "Keep perfectly cool, and
there is no particular hurry."
Syl and Hop went to the station indicated, but they were told to do
nothing till the order was given; though the sail might as well be
furled as set, so far as any use of it was concerned.
"It is coming now," said Dory, as he pointed to the New-York shore. "You
can see the clouds of dust it is stirring up on the land."
A moment later, it struck the water, and the commotion could be seen.
It looked like a dense light cloud sweeping over the surface, while a
roaring sound came in advance of it. Dory gave the order to let go the
peak-halyards, and take in the jib.
"Now we are all right," said the skipper, as soon as the order was
executed. "Here it comes. Hold on to your hats, and keep down in the
boat."
The cloud swept down upon the sloop, and the squall struck her. Dory
took the wheel himself. The mainsail flapped and banged with tremendous
violence; but the boat was headed right into it, and no harm came from
it. The water did not pile itself up into big waves at first. Almost as
soon as it had come, it was over. A few moments later, Dory filled away
with the mainsail: the peak still dropped, just holding wind enough to
give her steerage-way.
"Is that all there is of it?" asked Archie, when the shock was over.
"That's all; but it was only a light squall, and sometimes they hold one
for a much longer time. But we have not got to the end of this thing
yet, for there is another behind it."
The skipper let the boat fall off till she was headed for Juniper
Island, about two miles distant. In less than ten minutes he had
anchored her under its lee, with all sail safely stowed. As the skipper
predicted, there was another squall, which continued to rage for full
fifteen minutes. The waves mounted to a great height, and the spray
dashed over the island. But the Goldwing was safely sheltered, and the
students enjoyed the wild commotion of the water. Later in the day, the
wind went around to the north-west; and the sloop, under a reefed
mainsail only, made her way to Beech Hill.
These instructions were continued all summer in the two sail-boats; and
long before the end of the season, even Archie Pinkler was allowed to go
out as skipper of the Goldwing. All the members of the classes became
competent boatmen; and then they were as much at home on the lake,
whatever the weather, as Dory himself.
Tom Topover sailed the Lily, and knew all about his business. He had
become a very respectable sort of fellow, as had also all his former
companions in mischief and crime.
As usual at the close of the summer term, there was a grand occasion to
wind up the work of the school-year. Mr. Plint, Mr. Bridges, and Mr.
Rithie, who had kindly served as examiners in former years, rendered the
same service at this time. Two of them had taken students into their
employ; and in the speeches they made in the great hall of the
boat-house, they explained what progress these students had made as
architect and engineer.
Others from at home and abroad spoke of the moral as well as the
industrial benefit of the institution. Without mentioning any names, an
orator described the miracle which had been wrought in the life and
character of such students as Tom Topover and Nim Splugger. The shops
were visited; and in the afternoon, there was a grand excursion in the
steamers and sail-boats, as the wind happened to be fresh.
The inevitable ball followed in the evening; and all the young ladies
from the town, and not a few from Burlington, danced till the small
hours of the morning. It was not a matter of toilets, and people
declared that Dory Dornwood and Lily Bristol were the best-looking
couple on the floor, though Oscar Chester and Marian Dornwood were
hardly less attractive.
The Beech Hill Industrial School continued its good work for years
longer. The principal selects such students as need the instruction and
discipline, and are not likely to obtain their training at other
institutions. He is a public benefactor; and the old students, who
annually attend the closing exercises of the school, are grateful for
what the institution has done for them.
Transcriber's Note
The original spelling and punctuation has been retained.
Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
Italicized words and phrases in the text version are presented by
surrounding the text with underscores.
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