“Well, Mr. Black is under my orders and so are you. Let go of the wheel!”
The captain made an effort to push George away from his post, but the boy clung to the spokes with all his strength, and looked out of the window for the watchman, intending to send him below to call Mr. Black; but the watchman having performed the duty of passing the word had gone his way, and George was left to fight his battles alone.
“Will you let go of that wheel?” demanded the captain, in savage tones.
“No, I will not,” replied George, firmly. “I know what you want and so does Mr. Black. You want to sink this boat and get the insurance money on her; but you can’t do it while I am in the pilot-house!”
This bold declaration arrested the arm which the captain had raised to strike the young pilot. He stood motionless and speechless for a moment with his clenched hand in the air, and then the blow fell, and the boy dropped to the deck. He lay stunned and bewildered for a moment and then staggered to his feet and looked out. The dreaded snag could be dimly seen through the darkness, and, worse than that, the Sam Kendall was out of the channel and heading toward it at full speed. George thought of the sleeping passengers below, and made a desperate effort to save them and the boat. He seized one of the ropes leading from the post which supported the wheel down to the engine-room, and gave it a furious jerk. It was the stopping-bell, and the engineer was quick to respond to it. George then tried to reach the backing-bell, but the captain turned fiercely upon him and struck him to the deck again. But George had saved the boat. The port engine was stopped almost immediately, while the one on the starboard side continued to work as rapidly as ever; and although the captain threw the wheel over as quickly as he could, he was not able to make the helm overcome the tremendous power of the huge paddle-wheel. The bow of the steamer swung rapidly away from the snag, and the passengers slept on, all unconscious of the danger they had so narrowly escaped.
George scrambled to his feet again in a sadly demoralized condition. The captain’s last blow was almost too much for him. He leaned upon the bench for a few seconds, and when he had somewhat recovered himself he saw that the pilot-house door was open, that there was no one at the wheel, and that the steamer was swinging around toward the bank with fearful velocity. To spring to his post, stop the starboard engine, start the other, and bring the boat back into the channel with her head up the stream was the work of but a few minutes. Just as he had succeeded in doing it Mr. Black hurried in and seized the wheel.
All these incidents occupied but a very short time in taking place. The captain was not in the pilot-house more than three or four minutes, and during that time Bob sat on the bench, alternating between hope and fear, and watching the singular scene that was transpiring before him. He looked on with mouth and eyes wide open, but could do nothing. He expected every instant that the boat would blow up, or fall in pieces, or do some other equally dreadful thing, and he would have given everything he possessed to have been safe on shore. He breathed easier when he saw Mr. Black come in; but if he had only known it, there was another and a harder test of his courage close at hand.
“What are you ringing so many bells for, George?” asked the pilot. “Did she take a sheer on you?”
“No, sir; but I made her take a sheer on the captain, I guess,” was the faint reply.
“The old man!” exclaimed Mr. Black. “He hasn’t been in here!”