Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 187 — page 9: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A a ~~ ree crack opening in the planks of the strained © It was too much for Will Howard's overtried nerves. With acry of alarm he darted hastily for- ward to the life-car, and ane into it in advance of the two seamen, whom the captain had just ordered to take their places within its 7 cavity. It was with almost a “view halloo!” that Harry Bains witnessed this movement, ‘*Took water, by Jove!’’ he ejaculated. pinked him, Fred. He asks quarter.” ee thought he would hang out,” replied Fred, contemptuously. ‘*The fellow hasn't the back- bone I gave him credit for.” “That’s all very clever, my good friends,” ex- claimed the captain. ‘*The chap pulled a lusty oar out through the breakers, and there’s not one Jands- man in five thousand would have faced them out without facing them back. Let him go, and good luck go with him.” Will Howard heard this conversation, and was te satisfied to take the captain’s view of the case. e was, for the time being, thoroughly cowed by the terrors of the sea. ‘*Once more now, lads! Ashore with her!’ Harry called out. ‘'Give them the signal, Fred.” I'red signaled with his flag to the shore, and again the life-car shot swiftly through the breakers, the forms of women as well as of men being visible among those who pulled upon the shore-line, This time it reached the beach in complete safety, and its inmates could be seen from the deck of the Triton stepping from its close confines. ‘*So much for the life-car,”’ cried Harry Bains, “It has done its duty nobly. But your barque won't live, Cap, for another trip. And there's just a good life-boat’s crew of us left. It’s good-by, then, to the Triton, peace to her old timbers; and it’s man the life-boat. Tumble in, lads, tumble in. There’s no time now for nail-biting.” They all seemed to think with him, for it was evi- dent that the wreck might part at any moment. The boat, which had been hauled to the deck of the Triton, was hastily lowered into the eddying but comparatively quiet waters under her lee, The oarsmen, with little regard to precedence, sprung aboard, each seiz his oars, ‘*Now, Cap,in with you! And you, mate!” cried recht swingin himself, as he spoke, over the side. ** Hallo, ! here are you? Ithought you were safe aboard.” “One second,” exclaimed the captain. ‘I have forgotten my log-book.”’ **In with you, Cap,” cried Fred, who was standing by the companionway. ‘*‘ Where isit? I will get it. **On the shelf, in the left-hand state-room.’ With a bound Fred leaped into the cabin, and hur- ried to the eat indicated. He was hardly two sec- onds gone, but when he returned there was not a soul on the Triton’s deck. The life boat was man- ned, and waited only for its youthful coxswain. “Here's the 108» ’ exclaimed Fred, appearing at the bulwarks. ‘Stand by to catch it.” The mate of the Triton, a hard-faced, brawny, ill- favored man, lifted his hand to catch the book | which Fred flung into the boat. The lad caughta glimpse of the hand and fell back in momentary amazement. It was a short, sinewy, dark hand, with reddish spots, On one finger was a heavy ha ring, set with what appeared to be an emerald, He knew it at a glance, as if it had been a face in- stead ofa hand. It was the hand of the smuggler, which he had seen from beneath the door while lying bound in the smugglers’ den! ** Ahoy, there!"’ screamed old Tom, in short, quick notes. “What in the blazes keeps you? ere ** You've It was on them, in fact, ere Fred could move, a vast, mountainous billow. In a moment it rolled under the vessel, lifting her higher than ever, and giving the life boat such a surge that it tore loose and was hurled far away from her side. It was, for them, a fortunate accident, for other- wise they would inevitably have been sucked under the wreck, And as luckily their oars were ready for usé, and fell with a simultaneous thud into the wa- ter, hosding fhe boat head on to the beach. But the Triton sunk into the trough of the sea with a heavier surge than ever. groan—a rending—a splintering of timbers—in the next instant, with a loud crash, the good barque parted in twain, the stern sinking into the seething waves, while a flood of hungry waters poured into, and pei and eddied through, her rent and ex- nterior. On the quarter-deck appeared the tall, erect, un- flinching form of Fred Halyard, roing down with the ruined ship into the boiling waste of waters. CHAPTER XI. RETURN OF THE LIFE BOAT. As may well be imagined the observers on shore had been in a state of intense excitement during the occurrence of the events just related. Ii had taken the form, with some, of active exer- cise, they lending their utmost aid to the humane | labor of pulling ashore the life car, with its living | oc . freight. And as the imperiled crew gradually reached the shore, and stood erect and safe on the solid sands, the excitement and enthusiasm knew no bounds. With that primary impulse of charity which im- | agines that a solid meal is a panacea for all mortal | ills, and that every poor soul must necessarily be | starving, they were at once taken charge of, treated | to dry clothes and a good dinner, an finished off | with a taste of that liquid comfort which sailors are | proverbial for not re But the poor souls who ad been overturned in the comes a screeching wave.”’ | | ! | } There was a dismal | ll surf needed other treatment. Fortunately there were some ee present who had an idea of the proper method to resuscitate the apparently drown- ed. They were taken to the coast-guard house, and every effort made to bring them to. After half an hour of hard labor these efforts proved successful in the case of two of the sailors. But the third was beyond recovery, all attempts to resuscitate him proving in vain. Meanwhile the others were being gradually drawn in, and released from their close imprisonment in the narrow car, to the free air and footing of the breaker-beaten sands, Our friends, Mr. Darlington and his daughter Rose, were among the mostinterested of all the spectators of this exciting scene. The fact of Wilbur Howard being one of the life boat crew, and the interest which Rose involuntarily felt toward Fred Halyard, gave them a personal sentiment toward these men so bravely periling their lives in the service of hu- man ty. Rose particularly watched the outward pa of the boat with a vital interest as if her own soul was sharing the terrible danger to which these devoted men were exposed. Her heart seemed to beat in unison with the rise and fall of the oars, and when, at length, she saw them nimbly climbing the sides of the wreck, it appeared as if a terrible weight had been lifted from her life. Mr. Darlington grew more and more uneasy and excited as the car went out and was seen to be drawn on the deck of the vessel. ‘*T can’t stand it, Rose!’’ he ejaculated, “I have got to havea pull on that rope. Those young fr shall not have all the glory. ake care of my cane.” He drove his gold-headed cane forcibly into the sand, and ran to the rope, Brasping it with as vigor- ous @ gripe as the most athletic of the long line of young men that held it. ‘*Now! Heave ho! Hand over hand!’’ was sun out; and the car came through the waves with ad- mirable speed. . In a few minutes it lay high and dry on the sands, and hundreds crowded around it as the cover was one back, and its prisoners released to the open Mr. Darli n, from his position on the rope stood in the inner circle of this throng, and looked with a warm interest for the emergence of the sail- ors it was supposed to contain. The first to appear was the tall, handsome sailor, Jack Bunce, who sprurg upon the sands with an alert leap, which Fay t an involuntary shout of admiration from the lookers-on. He seemed the beau-ideal of a sailor as he stood there as if on pa- rade, with the loosely-knotted handkerchief about his neck, and his trim seaman’s rig. He was followed more slowly by the two other oc- cupants of the car—the passengers of the Triton. The first was a young, slender, delicate revoke 5 no means goesceeres: though tastefully dressed. The second to appear seemed his father. He was a man of some forty-five or via ween of age, with grizzled whiskers, and a pallid, bloodless face, His a we : but an older copy of those of the outh. . Mr. Darlington had been looking eagerly, from the inner line of the crowd, and was face to face with the older man as he emerged. One look into his face, and an involuntary, but quickly repressed cry came from the lips of the excited observer. The rescued passenger raised his lusterless eyes, and fixed them fora moment on the face of the man who had given vent to this strange cry. He then turned them away with no sign of hy ews The next instant he was taken possession of by the throng, whose excitement vented itself in an eager handshaking of the three rescued men. ‘“You have worked too hard, father,’ said Rose, looking anxiously into his face as he rejoined her. ‘*You are quite pale. You must leave such work for ounger men.”” “It is not that, Rose,’ he quietly replied, with a slight tremble in histone. “I have seen a ghost.”’ ‘*A ghost!” she repeated, with partes lips. “Yes, A ghost of the past. Yonder older pas- senger. I thought him dead yearsago. Whowould have believed that he could have risen from the sea to haunt me? But hedid not seem to recognize me.” These last. words were given in a low, muttering tone. Evidently he hoped that he had escaped re- cognition. se looked in her father’s agitated face witha strenge feeling: She had neverseen him s0 wrought upon before. She dared not ask further questions. It was for him to reveal the mystery hidden in his words if he would—not for her to ask for it. But he seemed inclined to say no more, but stood silent and moody by her side, tracing figures with his cane in the sand, as the car again and again came in with its burdens of the rescued. As it made its last trip Wilbur Howard sprung from it, his tall form dilated, his handsome face flushed with pride, or, as some might have thought, with importance, “Oh, yes! It wasaratherrough row,” he drawled, indifferently, to the congratulations of some of his friends. ‘‘ We don’t have such work on the Schuyl- I wouldn’t care to take such pleasure-trips for a daily exercise— but, when men’s lives are in dan- ger, you know,”—and he flourished his hand, sug- gestively. ‘* Bravo, Will!’ cried Mr. Darlington, rousing him- self from his abstraction, and warmly grasping the yonng man’s hand. ‘‘ You have done nobly, my oy. You are the hero of the day.” nd has Rose not a word for me?” he asked, in a lower tone. “Yes, yes,” she cried, her sweet face flushed with emotion. “T appreciate your heroic action, indeed Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy. 9 ee Eee oe a ee hes To think of the terrible peril you have been n ” She shuddered as her eyes fell upon the raging seas. Her hand lay quietly ia his grasp. **But why did you not finish your row, ard come ashore in the life boat?’ asked a young gentieman, who seemed rather envious of Will’s exploit. ** Because I did not go ont as a coast-zuardsman, for a day’s labor,” Will haughtily replied. ‘I mere- iV wished to show those fellows the quality of a gen- tleman, They thought I would not dare row with them. But they did not know the Howard spirit.”’ His voice was so haughty and disdainful that Rose involuntarily withdrew her hand from his grasp. She had an instinctive dislike for his demeanor. ‘Why do they not draw out the car again?’ was ked, **I fancy the rest will take to the life boat,” re- lied Will. ‘‘ Yes, there it is manned. And, by ove, yonder comes a fearful wave!”’ A deep hush, followed by a cry of alarm, came upon the throng, as they saw the vessel lifted upon this mighty billow, and at the same instant the life boat torn from her side and dashed away on the fierce sea. “There is a man on her still!’’ screamed a shrill voice. “It is the boy! It is Fred Halyard! Ha! ee parse! She is going down! And the boy with er There were the cries of women mingled with the alarmed voices of the men. Rose caught one limpse of that erect figure, and then covered her ace with her hands. She dared not look again. On board the life boat all was horror, both at the eril they had temporarily escaped, and at the dead- y danger of the boy. But their oars were in the water. The captain of the Triton had taken the helm, They safely rode the threatening billow, though its waters seemed poured in torrents over their heads, The after part of the vessel had made one down- ward plunge into the sea. It rose again on a suc- ceeding wave, Butit was tenantless. The form of Fred Halyard had disappeared. “Give way boys,’’ cried their new coxswain, “ It is all up with the lad. Bite the water with your oars! Let herspin! We will be squelched if we lay here with oars in the air.”’ It was evident to all that he was right, and the oars fell simultaneously into the waves, But it was mechanical with old Tom, whose weather-beaten face was full of agony as he watched the ravening waters for some trace of his lost boy. ‘*There he lifts! There he lifts!’’ he suddenly elled. ‘‘The boy’s alive yet, thank Heaven! And e’s swimming like a dolphin!” They all caught sight of him at the same moment, his head now emerging, now buried under the seas, but swimming as vigorously as if he had been iu still waters. “He oe fight for his life, but he will never make it,’ said the mate, coolly, ‘‘No man ever swau ashore through a see, like that,’’ ‘**Look out there, Fred!’ screamed Harry Bains. ‘‘ There’s the spar that killed poor Bowline. Look out that it don’t strike you!”’ A cheering cry came in response from the strug- gling lad. The next instant he had grasped the floating top-mast and climbed upon it. ‘*A cannon-ball don’t hit twice in the same place, "’ he yelled, ‘* What kills one man cures another,"’ @ was scarcely twenty yards away from _ the boat. They had both been borne well in toward the shore. The boat would probably land in safety, but Fred’s chance seemed almost hopeless. Suddenly Old Tom shipped his oar, and rose has- tily to his feet. ‘The boy must be saved!’ he cried, ahrough his set teeth, ‘*“Keep to your oars, men. Leave him to “You are not going over?’ cried Harry Bains, ** Are you mad?” ‘**No, no; not so mad as that,’’ returned the old sailor. “It wouldn't help Fred to drown myself, or I'd not stop. But flesh and blood ain’t made for work like that.”’ As he spoke he had caught up a light line which lay in the bottom of the boat. It was the line which ae been used to pull out the heavier rope for the ife-car, The old tar deftly made a noose in one end, and then rapidly twined alarge portion of the rem er into a coil. ‘*We'll see if old Tom has forgot how to fling a rope,”’ he muttered. ‘Look alive there, Fred,’’ he shouted. ‘Got your eyes open?” ‘‘Ay, ay!’ came from the boy, who was still bravely bulfeting the waves, “Stand by, then, for a rope, Ahoy! Here she comes |!”’ The old man stood for a moment with uplifted arm, seemingly as steady as a rock, though the boat was tossing like a feather in the outer line of the surf. Then, witha half turn of the body, he sent the long rope whistling out into the air it falling ts thud into the waves as its full length un- olded. ‘By Jove, it’s as straight as a die!” ejaculated Harry Bains. ‘‘The boy’s got it! Fred's got it! Hurrah for old Tom!” “Get the loop under yous arms, Fred,"’ shouted the old man. ‘ We will bring you in safe.”’ The wind was too shrill for the boy to hear on but he was keen enough to know what to do withou telling, and in a minute he had firmly fastened the noosed end of the rope around his body, still cling- ing to his support as he did 60, i. ‘Now, with a will, lads!” cried the captain. “We are in the tecth of the trouble," cS Eomichboo