CHAPTER XXII
JACK SIGNALS THE "SAWBONES"
Though he realized the deadly peril of the situation, Jack Benson, when he found himself in that frantic embrace, slipping below the waters, did not lose his head.
"She'll weaken before I do," was his first thought.
He had taken in no water. A strong, expert swimmer, the submarine boy could hold in his breath for some time to come.
"If I could only free one hand, now!" thought the submarine boy.
He tried, but some instinct in the girl made her resist his efforts.
Even had he wanted to, the chivalrous youngster could not now have struck the blow that, depriving the young woman of her senses, would give him a chance to control her. His arms were pinned tightly.
Yet were they held so securely that he could not free one?
Jack Benson knew that he must, indeed, think fast, now, if he was to save their lives.
He tried one of the tricks of wrestlers for freeing his right arm.
A shudder passed through the frame of the girl; she clung more convulsively still.
Then Jack tried another little dodge. This time he nearly freed his left arm. Summoning all his strength, he gave another tug.
His left arm was free!
Working mightily with it, now, Jack Benson fought his way to the surface.
There was no need to give much heed to his unknown companion. She was holding to him in a way that insured her rising to the surface with him.
"Ugh! Whew!" What a mighty breath it was that the young submarine captain took into his lungs as his head shot into air.
"Oh, you—Benson!" shot from a middy's mouth.
The cry led half a dozen of the young men toward the all but exhausted rescuer. They came with long, lusty strokes that brought them to Benson, quickly, while he trod water and tried to raise the face of the girl above the surface.
The girl's eyes were closed, now, her cheeks pallid and waxen. Twice her face dropped beneath the surface, but Jack fought to bring her lips up into the air.
Then strong hands seized them both.
"Untwine the young lady's arms, if you can," begged the submarine boy.
Two of the cadets succeeded in doing this. More midshipmen were about them, now, yet not one among them could have boasted of being a better swimmer than was Jack Benson himself.
But now the young skipper of the "Farnum" was plainly exhausted.
Freed of the need of more immediate work, Jack, as soon as he was free, rolled over on his back, floating.
In the meantime, four other midshipmen swam close to where the girl's athletic brother had been seen to go down. He came up, at last, more than half gone, but the middies pounced upon him—and then he was safe.
Hal was at the wheel, now, with Williamson and the naval machinist below in the engine room. That gave Eph Somers a chance to spring out on the platform deck with Ensign Trahern and the sole remaining midshipman.
"I'd better run along, now, to pick 'em up, sir, hadn't I?" called Eph
Somers to the naval officer.
"By all means, Mr. Somers."
The steamship's boat, too, pulled by a strong, well-trained crew, was now getting close to the scene. So it came about that the liner's lifeboat picked up Jack, the girl and her brother. The middies, disdaining any such outside interference, calmly turned and made for the "Farnum."
The girl proved to be unconscious, the brother more than half-dazed.
"Bring them aboard," directed Mr. Trahern, briefly.
"Now, gentlemen, you've a chance to apply what you may know about first aid to the drowning," suggested Ensign Trahern, tersely.
Under that vigorous treatment Walter Carruthers, as the young man afterwards declared himself to be, was quickly brought around. The middies had much harder work in reviving the girl. Her brother sat by watching the work.
"Elsie isn't—isn't dead, is she?" asked the brother, anxiously.
"Oh, no," replied one of the midshipmen, suspending his rescue work for an instant. "In fact, if there were women here to do the work—loosening her corsets, and all that sort of thing, you know—Miss Carruthers would be sitting up in short time."
At last, the girl was made to open her eyes. She swallowed a little coffee, too.
The "Greytown," in the meantime, had manoeuvered as close as was safe for such a big craft to come. The ship's doctor put off in a lifeboat, and soon declared his patient fit to be removed to the liner.
While all this was going on, Jack had slipped quietly below. He took a brisk rub-down, donned dry clothing, and speedily appeared on deck, looking as though nothing had happened.
"Drink some of this," ordered Eph, holding a pint cup of coffee toward the young skipper. Jack finished it all in a few gulps. Then, as his blood warmed, he began to smile over his late adventure.
Supported on the arm of the ship's doctor, Elsie Carruthers turned to ask:
"Where is the midshipman who first reached me—the—the one I so nearly drowned. I—I want to thank him, oh, so heartily, and to apologize."
"Here he is," cried Ensign Trahern, shoving Benson forward.
"But I'm not a midshipman, nor anything else in the Navy—no such luck," laughed Jack.
"If you're not in the Navy, you ought to be, you splendid fellow." cried the girl, weakly, holding out her hand in sheer gratitude. "And, oh, I was such a coward, and so unreasoning!"
"I guess anyone would be unreasoning if drowning and unable to swim," chuckled Jack Benson. "I know I would be."
"That's good of you," cried the girl, gratefully. "Awfully good, but I'm not deceived. I realize, now, what a criminal ninny I was to, act in a way that came so near to drowning both of us."
Then the young woman gracefully thanked all who had had any share in her rescue, and that of her brother. It took a lot of thanking, which everyone of the late heroes tried to dodge.
Then the visitors were taken off, and the midshipmen bundled below until dry clothing could be had for them.
The commanding officer of the "Hudson," having learned that something had happened was now heading the gunboat toward the "Farnum." In another half hour the naval fleet was together again, while the "Greytown" was rapidly vanishing along the northern horizon.
On receiving a report by megaphone, Lieutenant Commander Mayhew's first act was to order all of the drenched, and now chilled, midshipmen aboard the parent vessel. Here they were treated with rub-downs, dry clothing and hot black coffee. Even Jack Benson had been ordered on board, and he had to pass before Doctor McCrea at that.
"Oh, I'm all right," asserted Benson, who was the first to go before the doctor, while the middies were receiving their rub-downs. "You can't kill a salt-water dog with a dash of brine."
"Yes, you're in good enough shape," agreed the Navy medical officer.
Lieutenant Commander Mayhew now began to ask questions about the late occurrence.
When he had finished, Jack broke in with:
"By the way, sir, you were going to question your prisoner, Sam Truax, to see what you could learn about his reasons for acting the way he did on the 'Farnum.'"
"I didn't forget, either," replied the gunboat's commander. "I had him before me last night, and again this morning."
"And he said—" began Jack, eagerly.
"Said he hadn't the least notion what I was driving at," returned Mr.
Mayhew, compressing his jaws. "And that was about every blessed word
I could get out of him."
Jack looked, thoughtfully, in the direction of Doctor McCrea for a few moments, before he broke forth:
"Doctor, if I had anything like your chance, I'll wager I'd have Sam
Truax talking in short order."
"How?" inquired Doctor McCrea, looking up with interest.
"Why, I'd—" Jack hesitated, glancing in the direction of the gunboat's commanding officer.
"I—I guess I had better go and see how the midshipmen are coming on," muttered Mr. Mayhew, rising.
Yet there was a twinkle in his eye as he turned away.
For some minutes Jack Benson talked with Doctor McCrea. That naval medical officer listened at least with interest. Finally, he began to grin. Then he roared, slapping his knees.
"Mr. Benson, there's one thing about you. You certainly are ingenious!"
"Will you do what I have suggested?" pressed the young submarine skipper.
"Why, I—er—er—"
Doctor McCrea hesitated, then again laughed, as he replied:
"Mr. Benson, all I can say is that I—I—well, I'll have to think it over. I'm afraid that I—but I'll think it over."