“You’re not going along, be you?” inquired the amazed husband as he obeyed instructions.
“No,” she replied, swinging the door open and stepping out. “But I would if I could. I’ve got to stay with the children.”
Mr. and Mrs. Teller had a son and a daughter. The former was eight years old and the latter six. Besides these, Jetta Burton was living with them during the absence of her parents.
When Det and his wife reached the yacht, they met Tony and his father just arriving on a run. Mr. Lane had been aroused as vigorously by the story of the wreck and the peril to the two Burtons as Mr. Teller had been. He offered no objection to his son’s accompanying Walter on his dash to the rescue, and in a remarkably short time he and Tony were running down the road toward the yacht’s harbor.
Meanwhile messages had ceased to come from the Herculanea, and Walter concluded that the electric machinery of the liner was no longer in operation, if, indeed, the ship had not already gone down. So he left his instruments and made a hurried survey of the preparations for departure. Then he assigned Tony to the engine room, for the latter was almost as well acquainted with the motive power of the yacht as he was, and asked Det to man the stern line while he backed away from the wharf.
“See that everything’s in good running order,” he called after Tony, as the latter started for the engine room. “Then you c’n come back on deck.”
A moment later he was in the pilot house, calling to Det to release the stern line. After this had been done, he stepped on the starter, threw the clutch in reverse, and, by holding onto the bowline, forced the stern away from the wharf. Then he let go his bowline and backed out far enough to give him complete clearance, after which he reversed his wheel and threw in the clutch, giving the boat full speed ahead.
Mr. and Mrs. Lane stood on the wharf and watched the yacht till it was out of sight in the darkness. Presently Tony reappeared on deck with the report that all was running smoothly in the engine room, after which there was little conversation on board for some time. Walter was in possession of a bit of information that he would have been delighted to communicate to his friends, but he decided that it was better to keep it to himself for the present. He feared that its revelation might cause Det and Tony to urge a return home at once, and this he would not consent to do. The information was indeed of cheering nature, but he did not wish to let the rescue of his mother and his brother rest on that alone. Shortly before the operator on the Herculanea ceased to send out calls for help, Walter caught a message from another steamer, saying that it was hastening to the scene of the disaster.
But this steamer might be half-way across the Atlantic and might fail to arrive in time to be of assistance.
“I’ll wait till we’re well on our way before I tell them about it,” Walter resolved grimly.