Название: Two Boys of the Battleship: or, For the Honor of Uncle Sam
Автор: Webster Frank V.
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Зарубежная классика
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“Better start the pump again!” he shouted into his brother’s ear. “We’ve more water in her than I like to see.”
“Thought you said we’d need all our power to make the inlet.”
“So we will. But you can run the pump a few minutes before we’ll have to buck the tide. Shut her off when I tell you.”
The two boys gave their attention to managing their craft now. Gradually she was emptied of water again, and, at a nod from Frank, Ned disconnected the pump gears. As he stood up after doing this, he saw, on the open sea back of him and about two miles off shore, a dark mass which seemed shrouded in smoke.
“Look Frank!” he cried. “A ship on fire!”
Frank gave a quick glance.
“No!” he answered, raising his voice to make it heard above the roar of the wind and the swish of the rain, “that’s a battleship – the Texas, I think. I read she was to pass down this way. Yes, that’s what it is – one of Uncle Sam’s battleships! Say, I wish we were nearer and could get a better view. Isn’t that great!” and Frank, with shining eyes, looked earnestly in the direction of the big craft which moved along over the tempestuous sea as though no strife nor storm could produce an impression on her.
“It sure is great!” agreed Ned. “Say, Frank, do you know what my one ambition is?”
“Well, you change so often that it’s hard to keep track.”
“I’ve never changed from this one. I’d like to be a sailor on a battleship.”
“So would I, Ned! I’ve never talked much about it, because it didn’t seem of much use. Uncle Phil would never let us. But if I ever get the chance I’m going to have a try at life on a battleship.”
“And I’m with you, Frank!” Ned eagerly cried. “Only I guess there isn’t much chance. We’ve got to finish at college, I suppose, and then buckle down to business. But it’s the sea for mine every time, and every chance I get!”
“Same here. Now look out for things, Ned. We’re going through the inlet. And say, maybe the tide isn’t running strong!”
CHAPTER II – POLITICAL COMPLICATIONS
With one last and lingering look at the battleship, which was now almost lost to sight in the spray and spume of the sea and the mist of driving rain, Ned crouched down in the dory and watched his brother at the wheel, as the older lad turned the craft to make the trip through the inlet.
Ned crouched to keep as much as possible out of the way of the flying spray, and also to bring his weight low-down in the craft and thus make her more seaworthy. For though it was not likely that the dory would capsize, it was not wise to offer too many chances to the sea.
“Can you make it?” shouted Ned.
Frank nodded his head. It was no time for talk now.
The stanch craft rose and fell on the waves. She tumbled and tossed about, but dories are made for rough weather and heavy seas, and the boat of the two boys was no exception.
Once again Ned lifted off the cover of the engine box to see that the oil was being properly fed to the machinery, for the gasoline motor was under a severe strain now, forcing the boat through the inlet against the power of the out-rushing tide.
“All right?” asked Frank, snapping out the words, but never taking his eyes from the course ahead.
“All right,” Ned answered.
On through the storm, through the driving rain and the stinging salt spume, labored the dory, until she was in the more quiet waters of Great South Bay, and then, for the first time since they realized that they were caught in a bad storm, our two heroes breathed with comparative freedom.
“Whew!” exclaimed Frank, with a sigh of relief as he allowed his tired legs to stretch a bit, for he had sat in a braced position to manage the wheel. “Whew! That was some storm!”
“It was great!” declared Ned, laughing now. “I love a good blow!”
“So do I, and now that we have tried out the Ellen and know what she can do, we’ll not have to worry so much. It sure is some great little boat!” and Frank patted the wheel affectionately, as one might caress a favorite horse or dog. The motor boat really seemed a thing of life to the boys.
Their hard work was not yet over, however, for Great South Bay is very shallow, and it does not take much wind to roughen the water there. But, of course, the waves were nothing like those out on the open sea, and, as Ned remarked, “it was pie”; meaning, in his own way, that it was easy navigating.
“Well, we’re almost in now,” Frank remarked, a little later, as he nodded in the direction of the tall wireless mast at Sayville – the wireless by which messages are sent directly to and from Germany. The mast is a landmark for miles around.
“Yes, we’ll be at the house shortly now,” agreed Ned. “Let me take the wheel awhile. You must be tired.”
“I am,” Frank admitted, as he surrendered the spokes to his brother. The latter steered to where their row boat was moored at the anchorage, and having made everything aboard the dory snug for the coming night of storm, and having anchored her, bow and stern, Frank and Ned rowed to shore and started up the walk toward their uncle’s house.
The two boys were orphans, their mother having died when they were respectively nine and eight years old. Mr. Arden was an importer of coffee and other tropical and South American products, and had, at one time, been wealthy.
But the death of his wife seemed to deprive Mr. Arden of some of his business ability. Perhaps he lost heart, and had little ambition left. Whatever the cause, he gradually lost money and curtailed his activities until he was in danger of bankruptcy. Of course Frank and Ned were then too small to know about this.
Then Mr. Arden’s brother Philip, a shrewd business man, stepped in to the aid of the sorrowing man. Philip Arden knew little or nothing of the importing trade, but he had good natural abilities, and he gave his whole attention to his brother’s affairs.
The effect was to save a business on the verge of ruin, and for some years the two Arden brothers were in partnership. For a time the father of Ned and Frank seemed to regain his old-time manner. But he really was a man with a broken heart, and five years after the death of his beloved wife he gave up the fight and died, after a brief illness.
Frank and Ned were thus left orphans, but, thanks to the business ability of Philip Arden, the boys were heirs to a considerable fortune. It was natural that they should now make their home with their uncle. The latter had never married, and for the last few years he had taken up his residence with his brother and nephews at Ipswhich, where the Ardens had lived for many years in an old homestead on the bay.
Of course Frank and Ned grieved sorely over the death of their father. They did not remember their mother quite so well, though often they would go into the parlor and look at the picture of a woman with a sweet, but rather sad face. It was a picture before which they had often seen their father stand with bowed head and hands clasped behind his back. And often, when he came softly out of the room where the portrait hung, there was a suspicious moisture in Mr. Arden’s eyes.
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