Author of "Road Rangers," The "Mate" Series, "Snow-shoes and Sledges," "Fur-Seal's Tooth," etc.
CHAPTER IX.
THE RANGERS HAVE DEALINGS WITH PIRATES.
When the rest of the Rangers were awakened to the fact that there were others on the island besides themselves, they were so certain that Captain Crotty had returned, and so excited over the prospect of being rescued from their unpleasant situation, that but for Will Rogers they would have rushed to the beach at once with shouts of welcome.
"Hold on, fellows," he said, in a low tone. "I don't believe the skipper is down there, for, you know, he never swears—at least we never heard him—while those men are swearing like pirates. The rest of you wait here while Hal and I slip round to that far point, where we can get close to them without being discovered. Come on, Hal."
The other boys were not at all satisfied with this arrangement, however, and the two scouts were hardly out of sight before Mif Bowers said:
"Look here, fellows, I don't see why we should be left behind doing nothing. We are just as anxious to know who those men are as anybody. Besides, supposing they should go off before Will and Hal got to the point. Then we'd be as bad off as ever, and I, for one, am too sick of this plaguey island to be left on it any longer. So I'm going to sneak down a little closer, and make sure they don't get away without our knowing it."
As the speaker started to carry out this intention the others followed him. Only little Cal Moody, who was afraid to go, and almost equally so to stay alone, remained behind. The others had not got more than half-way to the beach before they saw a tall figure coming directly toward them.
"Lie low, fellows!" whispered Mif Bowers, throwing himself flat amid a growth of bayberry and sweet-fern. The rest of the boys instantly followed his example, and the approaching figure had almost passed them without discovering their presence, when it stopped to listen to a sound of pattering feet and an anxious voice calling in suppressed tones: "Mif! Fellows! Wait for me!" The next moment little Cal Moody ran with a startled cry plump into the stranger's arms.
"ANSWER ME INSTANTLY, YOU YOUNG RASCAL, OR I'LL THROTTLE YOU."
"Hello!" cried the latter. "What's this? Who are you? and what are you doing here? Answer me instantly, you young rascal, or I'll throttle you."
"Please, sir, I didn't mean any harm," gasped poor Cal, frightened nearly out of his senses. "I'm only a Road Ranger— I mean a sea— That is, I'm only a boy, and the others left me behind, and I got scared, and was looking for them. But I'll go right back, if you'll only let me go."
"So there are others, are there?" remarked the stranger, at the same time keeping a tight hold of Cal's arm. "Who are they? and where are they?"
"Only boys, sir, like me, and we're camping out, and waiting for Captain Crotty to come for us, and we've drunk up all our water, and are 'most out of everything to eat, so we thought, perhaps, you—"
"Where is your camp?" interrupted the stranger.
"Right back here a little way."
"Then come along and show it to me."
So Cal and the stranger started toward the tent, and the hidden Rangers crept after them to see what was to be done with their youngest member; only Cracker Bob Jones sped swiftly away in the direction taken by Will and Hal to notify them that the camp was discovered, and bring them back to its defence in case the new-comers should prove aggressive.
As Will and Hal were moving slowly, and with all the caution of scouts approaching an enemy's camp, Cracker Bob overtook them before they reached the point toward which they were making their way; and, on learning of the new turn of affairs, they hastily retraced their steps.
By this time daylight was appearing, and when the Ranger scouts neared their camp they saw the other boys gathered about a strange man, who did not appear either ferocious or inclined to enmity. In fact, they were all chatting and laughing in the most friendly manner.
As the three late comers approached, the stranger stepped forward, and extending his hand said, "So this is Captain Will Rogers is it? I am happy to meet you, my lad, and glad that I am in a position to offer you some assistance out of your present difficulty. My name is Bangwell, Zenas Bangwell, at your service, and I am the owner of this island, having recently purchased it. I am about to erect a summer residence here, and have just run over from Newport in my yacht Whisper, for the purpose of selecting a building site, getting acquainted with the harbor, and so forth. The season being so well advanced, I have got to hurry things, and took advantage of the calmness of the night to strip my yacht of her interior fittings, and fetch them ashore, as I intend to bring over my lumber and supplies in her. Now I am about to return to Newport, which is, as you doubtless know, only a couple of hours' run from here, and if you want to take passage with me I shall be most delighted to have you do so, especially as my young friend here tells me you are all good sailors. That will enable me to leave my crew behind, to begin clearing a place for the foundation of my cottage."
"But," said Will Rogers, doubtfully, "we are expecting some one—"
"Oh!" interrupted the glib stranger, "I forgot to say that I met your friend, Captain Crotty, who was forced to take his sloop, the Millgirl, to Newport for docking, and as he cannot be ready for sea under several days, he begged me to bring you back with me, always supposing that you were ready to leave the island. Now as I am in a great hurry to be off, for I hope to go to Newport and return to this place again before night, I must ask you to gather up your traps as quickly as possible, while I return to the beach and have a boat got ready to take us to the yacht, where you will find breakfast waiting, and, of course, plenty of fresh water. You need not bother to bring anything except your personal belongings, as I shall make Captain Crotty a handsome offer for the Camp as it stands, to be used by my workmen. In five minutes I shall be ready."
Thus saying, Mr. Bangwell took his departure, waving his hand pleasantly to the boys as he went.
"Isn't this the biggest kind of luck?" cried Mif Bowers. "I tell you what, Will, you are altogether too suspicious. Now, I didn't think those chaps were pirates or anything of the kind from the very first."
"Well," replied the Ranger Captain, "it may be all right; but I'm not wholly satisfied yet, and I don't know as we ought—"
"Oh, yes, we ought, fast enough," interrupted Mif Bowers. "We'd be great fools if we didn't take this chance, when Captain Crotty has sent for us too. Anyhow, I for one am not going to stay here any longer to die of thirst, let alone hunger."
"Nor I," and "Me, too," shouted others.
So Will yielded to the voice of the majority, and busied himself with rolling up his blankets. If he had not been so very thirsty he might still have argued the question, but no argument could prevail against a vision of the yacht's water-tanks. And, after all, Mr. Bangwell's story was very plausible. If at that moment he could have been present at an interview on the beach between the stranger who had just left them and several tough-looking men who had suspended their work to gather about him, the young Ranger's misgivings would have been replaced by certainties of a very disquieting character. The speaker was saying:
"You see, mates, I suspicioned that some of the kids we heard of as camping out on this island might still be here, so I just strolled up to have a look. Sure enough, I found them, or, rather, another lot, I take it, who are waiting here for some craft to come along and take them off. They are green as grass, though, and I pumped them dry in a hurry. As quick as I found that they are as anxious to get away from here as we are to have 'em, I faked up a yarn about having just bought the island, and being in a hurry to get back to Newport in my yacht for supplies. They claim to be first-class sailors, though, between you and me, I don't believe they know enough to navigate a scow at anchor. It gave me a lead, though, and so I invited them to help me sail the yacht over to Newport, while my crew—you fellows, you understand—staid behind to begin building operations. They jumped at the chance, and will be down in a minute with their plunder. So we want to be ready for them, and set 'em aboard at once without giving them a chance to examine any of this stuff." Here the speaker pointed to a miscellaneous pile of boxes, barrels, and bales, with which the other men had been busy.
"I'll sail far enough with them to get 'em well started," he continued, "and then give 'em the slip some way, and I don't believe they'll know enough to get back again, even if they want to. So we'll get rid of them, and the yacht, too, before the schooner comes, as well as throw any craft that's hunting us off our track, till we've had plenty of time to get clear, for they're certain to sight the yacht and follow her. Oh, it's a fine graft, and we want to work it for all it's worth! So, Scotty, you take the yawl up to the far end of the beach, and I'll take the gig, while you other fellows lie low till we are off."
The plan thus arranged was carried out to the letter, and ten minutes later the Sea Rangers found themselves once more afloat in a natty schooner-yacht, evidently brand new, with Mr. Bangwell at the wheel, and the gig towing astern, while the second boat was being rowed back to the beach by an evil-looking man, who answered to the name of "Scotty."
In his haste to be off, Mr. Bangwell had not waited to get up the anchor, but had slipped the cable, saying that he could pick it up on his return.
The yacht was not more than a mile outside the harbor, and Mr. Bangwell was just informing Will Rogers that the course for Newport was east by south half south, when the former noticed a dingy-looking schooner approaching them from dead ahead. Without drawing attention to her, he exclaimed:
"By-the-way, boys, breakfast is ready in the cabin, so just tumble down and pitch in without waiting for me. I'll steer till one of you can come up and take the wheel."
The Rangers having quenched their thirst immediately on getting aboard, were feeling more than ever hungry, and so needed no second invitation to breakfast. Thus in another minute Mr. Bangwell had the deck to himself. With a muttered excuse for so doing, which the boys only heard indistinctly and heeded not at all, he drew the companion-hatch and closed the cabin doors. Then he lashed the wheel in a certain position, cast loose the painter of the gig, slipped into the boat, and rowed rapidly away toward the on-coming schooner, leaving the yacht to take care of herself.
CHAPTER X.
CAPTURED BY A MAN-OF-WAR.
The breakfast that the boys found awaiting them was not particularly inviting, as it consisted principally of a big pot of muddy coffee, a pan of hardtack, and a dish of cold bacon. Still, they were too hungry to be dainty, and so pitched into it, with a right good-will.
"My! I should think he had stripped her," said Hal Bacon, gazing about the dismantled cabin. "It's a shame, too. The idea of carrying lumber in such a fine craft as this!"
"Yes. Isn't she a beauty?" cried Cracker Bob Jones, admiringly. "I'd like to cruise in her for a month. If Captain Crotty isn't ready for us, suppose we offer to help bring her back to the island again."
"I wouldn't mind taking a cruise in her," acknowledged Will Rogers, "if only Captain Crotty or some other first-class sailor was in charge, but somehow I can't wholly trust this Mr.—"
"Oh, pshaw, Will!" cried Mif Bowers. "If you aren't the most suspicious chap I ever knew. The man is trusting us, and I don't see why we shouldn't trust him. Besides, what could he do, anyhow, against so many of us? Why, we could take possession of this yacht and run away with her if we wanted to."
"Who'd sail her if we did?" asked Will, laughing at the idea of his Rangers turning pirates in that way.
"Why, we would, of course. I rather guess we know enough by this time, after all the experience we've had, to sail a boat of this size. I know I would, anyhow."
Just here there came such a tremendous flapping of sails, thrashing of ropes, and banging of blocks from overhead that the boys made a rush for the deck to see what was up. To their dismay the cabin doors were not only closed but locked. In vain did they pound, kick, and shout to be released. There was no answer to their cries, though the terrifying racket overhead continued with increasing violence.
"Something serious has happened," shouted Will Rogers, with a very pale face. "Perhaps Mr. Bangwell has fallen overboard, and a squall has struck us. Anyway, we must break open these doors."
But the doors were stout, and for several minutes resisted their utmost efforts. Finally, however, they gave way, and the boys poured on deck. By this time the alarming noise had ceased, for the yacht, which had thrown her head into the wind, had again filled away and resumed her course of her own accord.
The Rangers gazed about them in bewildered amazement. There was no trace of the man whom they had left on deck, nor of the boat that had towed astern.
"He must have fallen overboard and got drowned," said little Cal Moody, in an awe-struck tone.
"He must have deserted us and gone off, though I can't understand why, nor see where he has gone," answered Will Rogers, as he mechanically stepped to the wheel and cast off its lashing. "There is something wrong about this whole business, and we are left in a pretty pickle. Now the question is what shall we do about it?"
"Go back to the island and wait for Captain Crotty," suggested several.
"Keep on to Newport," advised others.
"But we don't know where it is," objected Sam Ray. "I'd run for the nearest land."
"And be wrecked again. Not much."
"We could anchor when we got near shore."
"No, we couldn't, 'cause we haven't got any anchor. Don't you remember we left it behind?"
"That's so. Well, then, let's keep on till we meet some vessel, and then ask where Newport is."
"We know the course to Newport," suggested Mif Bowers, "for I heard him telling you, Will."
"Yes," admitted the latter. "He told me that Newport lay east by south half south, but I don't believe it. In fact I think it lies just the other way."
"All right, then; let's go that way."
As it seemed to be the general opinion that this was the best thing to be done, Will Rogers, who was gradually getting the hang of the unaccustomed wheel, brought the yacht close on the wind, and ordered all sheets trimmed flat. This much he had learned on board the Millgirl. By thus doing, he could lay a course a little north of east, which he hoped would take them to the vicinity of Newport.
The others discussed their situation, the disappearance of Mr. Bangwell, and the probable ending of this most remarkable cruise with unwearied tongues. They still believed themselves to be good enough sailors to handle the yacht, and take her anywhere they chose. At the same time they devoutly hoped that fair weather would hold until they reached some safe harbor, and earnestly wished for the sight of one.
In the mean time Will Rogers was puzzled to account for his inability to keep the yacht on her course. She persistently fell off from it, and seemed to be making leeway almost as fast as she did headway, although a good breeze was blowing. "There must be a tremendous current," he said to himself, "and I guess I'd better head the other way."
So, in imitation of Captain Crotty's well-remembered order, he sung out, "Ready about!" and then put the helm hard down. He did not, however, remember to slack his head-sail sheets, and none of the others remembered it for him. The yacht shot up into the wind all right; but after hanging there for a minute with slatting sails, she gracefully tilled away again on her former tack. She had missed stays. Again and again Will tried to get her about, but failed in every instance.
Now, for the first time, the Rangers began to grow alarmed, and to realize that something was lacking in their knowledge of seamanship. Their craft would sail all right where she chose to go, but not where they wanted her to.
"I never heard of a boat acting this way!" cried Will Rogers, finally, and in utter despair.
"Let me try," said Mif Bowers; and, glad to share his responsibility, Will released the wheel.
Mifflin met with no better success than Will, and not only that, but became so badly rattled by a sudden puff that heeled the yacht over until her lee rail was under water, that he let go of the wheel in terror, yelling to Will to take it before they were capsized.
Even their hoped-for assistance from other craft failed them; for, though several, all evidently yachts, approached at different times during the day, they all sheered off when near enough to distinguish the signals fluttering from the Whisper's mast-heads.
So the unhappy Sea Rangers, growing more and more terrified with each passing hour, sailed all day without making any land or being able to hail a single vessel. By nightfall they were enveloped in a thick fog, the wind had whipped round and was blowing half a gale from the eastward, a heavy sea was running, and most of the boys were so prostrated by sea-sickness that they no longer cared whether they lived or died. Just before dark Will Rogers and little Cal Moody, who were the only ones not affected by sea-sickness, lowered all the sails, and managed clumsily to secure them.
None of the Rangers had ever dreamed of anything so awful as the long hours of darkness that followed, during which their craft drifted, rolling and pitching furiously, and utterly at the mercy of wind and wave. At length, after what seemed an eternity of darkness and terror, Will Rogers, who, with little Cal cuddled close beside him, was half dozing with utter weariness in the cockpit, was roused into a sudden activity by the unmistakable boom of breakers close at hand.
"Hello, fellows!" he yelled, springing to his feet, "tumble up here in a hurry and make sail or we'll be lost. We're almost on the rocks now!"
This thrilling summons was sufficient to banish even sea-sickness, and a few minutes later the yacht, under mainsail and jib, was slowly drawing away from the dangerous though still unseen reef.
Some hours afterwards a hot sun, scattering the sullen fog-bank, poured its cheery rays over the haggard-looking Rangers, who, in various attitudes of utter misery, occupied the wet decks of the yacht. All at once they sprang to their feet with shouts of dismay and terror, for, out from a low hanging bank of mist, that was slowly rolling away astern, there came a flash as of lightning, and the thunderous roar of a heavy gun. At the same moment, as though it had been cloven in twain by the shot, the fog opened and a United States man-of-war, snow-white and gleaming in the sunlight, loomed up directly behind them, terrible and yet grandly beautiful in its on-rushing majesty.
The Rangers gazed at this bewildering apparition in speechless terror, fully expecting that another minute would see them run down and crushed like an egg-shell. As the monster dashed up abreast of them, at the same time slackening her speed with reversed engines, an officer, hailing from the bridge, demanded to know the yacht's name.
"Whisper!" shouted Will Rogers, recovering somewhat his self-control.
"What do you mean by that, you impudent young pirate?" roared back the officer, angrily. "Why don't you heave to? Heave to, sir, at once, or it will be the worse for you."
"We don't know how," sang back Will, while all the others trembled in their bare feet, and almost expected to receive a broadside from the gleaming guns that grinned at them not a stone's-throw away.
"Then lower your sails and come to anchor, while I send a boat aboard," shouted the officer, as the great white ship glided by.
The yacht's crew could not anchor, but they let down their sails by the run, and a few minutes later were approached by a boat from the man-of-war, bearing a brass howitzer in its bows, and manned by a lusty crew of blue jackets.
"Way enough! Oars!" commanded a voice from the stern of the boat, as it dashed alongside, and at the sound every Ranger was thrilled as though by an electric shock. In another moment they had rushed forward, and were overwhelming with their clamorous welcome the younger of the two officers who had just gained the yacht's deck.
"Mr. Barlow! Sir! I am amazed. What is the meaning of all this?" demanded the elder officer, sternly.
To this Billy Barlow, Ready Ranger, and naval cadet, just now attached to the United States practice-ship Bancroft, made bewildered answer: "Why, sir, they are not pirates, after all, but my own schoolmates from Berks. I know every one of them, and can vouch for their character as for my own."
"Then, perhaps," said the lieutenant a little less sternly, but still with a decided trace of suspicion in his voice, "you can explain how they happen to be in possession of the yacht Blue Billow, which was stolen from her anchorage in the East River by a gang of thieves four days ago, and run off with the most valuable cargo of plunder ever taken out of New York city. If you or they can explain this satisfactorily, well and good. If not, it is my duty to clap them in irons, and convey them aboard the ship as prisoners."
"I think I can explain the situation to your satisfaction, sir," said Will Rogers, boldly, "though this is the first we have heard about thieves or stolen goods."
The officer listened with closest attention to Will's story, and when it was finished, he said, with a smile: "Well, young gentleman, I am very much inclined to believe you, and am very glad to be able to carry back such a favorable report to our commanding officer. Mr. Barlow, you will remain, with two men, in charge of the yacht. Make sail and stand off and on within easy hail of the ship."
As soon as the Lieutenant had departed, and Billy Barlow had carried out his instructions, the naval cadet was overwhelmed by a torrent of questions from the bewildered Rangers.
Why did he call this yacht Blue Billow when her name is Whisper? How did a man-of-war happen to be sent after her? How did you know where to find us? etc., etc.
"Because," answered Billy Barlow, laughing, "she belongs to Admiral Marlin, who has only just built her. He named her after your play, which he happened to see in Chester; and when she was reported stolen, we got orders to keep a lookout for her during our cruise down the Sound. We heard of you yesterday evening from several yachtsmen, who had recognized your flag; but thinking you were a lot of pirates, had no desire for a closer acquaintance. It's big luck, though, that I happened to be along to identify you, for our first luff is in a towering rage at your supposed insult in telling him to whisper when he hailed you."
The yacht was shortly hailed again, and ordered to follow the Bancroft to the vicinity of the island on which the Rangers had so recently camped, and which, to their great surprise, they now learned was not more than a couple of miles away.
As they sailed toward it, with Billy Barlow at the wheel, he asked Will Rogers how it happened that he had been trying to sail close hauled with his centreboard up.
"Why," replied the Ranger Captain, "I never thought of that, and don't believe I should have known what to do with it if I had, for, you see, the Millgirl didn't have any centreboard, and so we didn't learn about it."
"Which shows," remarked Billy Barlow, sagely, "that it isn't safe to go to sea, especially in command of a vessel, without a previous and pretty extensive experience in various styles of craft."
"And after you've got your extensive experience, perhaps you won't ever want to go to sea again," laughed Will Rogers. "At any rate, that's the way I feel now."
"I don't care whether you call it extensive experience or sea-sickness," chimed in Mif Bowers, "but I know I've had enough of it to last me a lifetime."
"Last night I promised myself that if ever I set foot on dry land again I'd stay there, and I mean to keep my promise, too," announced Cracker Bob Jones, with an expressive shake of the head.
"I think," said little Cal Moody, "that I'll resign from the Sea Rangers, for I don't seem to care as much about being one as I did."
And this was the opinion of the entire wet, ragged, dirty, barefooted, sunburned, hungry, and generally disreputable looking crew of the yacht Blue Billow.
At the island they found the Millgirl, with poor Captain Crotty almost beside himself with anxiety. He was so overcome with joyful emotion at the safe reappearance of his missing charges that, as they thankfully scrambled aboard the old sloop, he could only exclaim, "Waal, I'll be blowed!"
He had met a dingy old schooner sailing out of the harbor as he entered it, and described her so minutely that the commander of the Bancroft decided to go in pursuit of her at once. This he did, ultimately capturing her, with Mr. Bangwell and his pals, together with all their plunder, including the handsome fittings of Admiral Marlin's yacht on board.
The Blue Billow was sent to New York in charge of prize-master William Barlow and a picked crew of seamen, while the sturdy old Millgirl bore her picked crew of landsmen, who no longer had the least desire to become seamen, safely back to Berks.
Here, after showing up at their respective homes, the Rangers met in special session at Range Hall for the purpose of giving honorary member Pop Miller a full account of their recent expedition. The little old gentleman listened with absorbed attention, and when the tale was concluded he exclaimed:
"Marmaids, mutiny, shipwreck, cast away on a desolate island, hungry, thirsty, kidnapped, pirates, lost at sea, captured by a man-o'-war, and safe back home, all inside of one week, is a record what I don't believe can be beat by any other lot of Sea Rangers in the hull world"—which conclusion is fully shared by every member of the Ready Rangers of Berks.