The Iron Boys on the Ore Boats Part 28

The "Richmond," sailed majestically around the bend in the cut, Steve glancing back over the decks to see that his funnel was coming in line with the range indicated by the captain. As Rush looked ahead through the open pilot-house window again his heart fairly leaped into his throat. Two eyes, one red the other green were blinking at him right in his path dead ahead.

"It's a s.h.i.+p!" he exclaimed. "I don't dare pa.s.s it here. I don't know whether there's room or not. What shall I do?"

The Iron Boy's quick mind solved the problem in a flash. Springing to the pilot-house telegraph he swung the indicator over to the words, "Half speed astern."

The s.h.i.+p began to tremble under the impact of the reversing propeller.

Grasping the whistle lever Steve blew five short, sharp blasts, then taking his place at the wheel he calmly kept the vessel in her course, the other s.h.i.+p bearing down on him whistling as if the whistle lever had been wired down.

The reversing of the propeller had not been lost on Captain Simms. He knew instantly what it meant when he felt the trembling of the vessel.

Then came the danger signal--five sharp blasts on the whistle.

The captain was out of his cabin on the run taking the stairway to the bridge three steps at a time. By this time Rush had thrown the telegraph indicator over to "full speed astern." He was watching the stern to see that it did not swing out of the channel, then turning to see what the vessel ahead of him was doing.

What had caused him to so suddenly reverse the propeller was not so much the narrowness of the channel, but rather a light that was placed well out from the sh.o.r.e line on his side. It was a white light, and, while he did not understand the meaning of it, he knew that it had been placed there as a warning to s.h.i.+ps to keep well outside of it.

The other boat was coming to a stop also, but by the time Captain Simms reached the pilot-house the bows of the two s.h.i.+ps were so close together that it seemed as though they might crash together. One swift, comprehensive glance told the captain everything. He noted that his vessel was reversing, that the pilot was keeping her in the channel and that the other s.h.i.+p was coming to a stop.

Without a word to Steve he grasped his megaphone and sprang to the window.

"Choke her down, you fools! Do you want to run us under?"

"Get out of the way yourself! Why didn't you blow your whistle? You saw that buoy there. You have seen it for the last half hour. You knew you ought to have given warning before you got into the cut here."

"What does that buoy mean?" demanded Captain Simms.

"A coal barge was sunk there this morning."

The two vessels met with a heavy b.u.mp that set everything rattling on board both s.h.i.+ps, but the shock was not sufficiently severe to do any damage to either.

"Back up, you fellows, unless you want us to push you out!" commanded Captain Simms.

In the meantime, after the shock, Steve had stepped to the telegraph and swung the indicator to the word "Stop!"

The two captains hurled language at each other for the next two minutes, but the other skipper grew tired of it first. He gave the order to reverse propeller. The up-bound boat began to retreat slowly.

"Slow speed ahead," commanded Captain Simms.

The master was leaning from the pilot-house window, megaphone in hand, ready to roar at the other skipper at the first opportunity. But there was no good excuse for him to do so. After backing down stream sufficiently to make pa.s.sing safe, Captain Simms gave his whistle lever a jerk, sounding one sharp blast, meaning that he would meet and pa.s.s the other vessel on its port side.

The "Richmond" slipped by at a little higher speed than was safe, her sides sc.r.a.ping the paint off the other boat in spots.

"I ought to report you, you lubber!" roared Captain Simms in pa.s.sing.

"You ain't fit to command a mud scow. I've got a kid on this boat who's a better captain, after half a cruise, than you'll be if you cruise all your life."

The captain jerked the telegraph indicator to "three-quarter speed ahead" with such violence that it threatened to tear the indicator chains from their hooks. Then he turned to Rush.

"Steve, much obliged," he said. "That's the second time you saved the s.h.i.+p. I owe you another one for that. Unless I am greatly mistaken, you'll be trotting around with a master's license in your inside pocket by the time you are twenty-one. Steady there."

"Steady, sir," answered the boy at the wheel.

CHAPTER XVII

THE BLOW IN THE DARK

THEY had pa.s.sed out through Lake St. Clair as eight bells rang out.

Steve relinquished the wheel to the next watch and bidding good night to the captain started back toward his quarters.

The lad made his way back over the deck, strolling slowly along, enjoying the night and thinking over the events of the evening. As he reached the after deck-house he halted, leaning against it looking forward and watching the gentle rising and falling of the upper works forward.

"It is almost fascinating enough to make one want to spend his life on board a s.h.i.+p," mused the Iron Boy. "Well, I must turn in. I----"

He did not finish what he was about to say. A crus.h.i.+ng blow was dealt him on the back of the head, coming from the deep shadows on the starboard side of the after deck-house.

Steve staggered forward, then fell face downward on the steel deck of the "Richmond."

Sailors found him there, half an hour later, unconscious. No one knew what had happened. The captain was notified at once and he, after an examination of the boy, decided that Steve had fallen against a steel hatch and had given his head a severe b.u.mp. They worked over the lad for nearly an hour before getting him back to consciousness. He had been put to bed, and Bob was detailed to sit by and watch his companion, which he did with solemn face. Steve fell into a deep sleep from which he did not fully awaken until morning.

He was lame and sore from head to feet. Bob was asleep on the edge of the berth and the s.h.i.+p was rolling heavily. Without waking his companion, Rush got up after much effort, dressed himself, and, supporting himself by keeping his hands on the woodwork, made his way outside. Day was just breaking.

Steve leaned against the deck-house in the same position that he had been occupying on the previous night when he was struck.

The captain, at that juncture, came along on his way to breakfast.

"h.e.l.lo, Rush," he greeted, halting. "How do you feel?"

"All knocked out."

"That's too bad. Come in and have some breakfast. You will feel better after that."

"I do not think I want any breakfast, sir."

"Pshaw! Come along. By the way, you had a nasty fall last night, didn't you?"

"I should say I did."

"How did you happen to slip?"

"I didn't slip, captain."

"You didn't?"

"No, sir."

"Then how did you happen to crack your head on a hatch cover?"