CHAPTER XXI
THE STORM
Neale O'Neil was a lad to whom, young as he was, emergencies came as asort of second nature. His life in the circus had prepared him for quickand unusual action. Many times, while traveling with the tented shows,accidents had happened. Sometimes one of the animals would get loose,perhaps one of the "hay feeders," by which is meant the elephants,horses or camels. Or, worse than this, one of the big "cats," or themeat eaters--including lions, tigers and leopards--would break from acage. Then consternation would reign.
But Neale had seen how the circus men had met these emergencies, alwaysworking for the safety of others.
And now, as he seemed to be alone in the semi-darkness and silence ofthe houseboat at midnight, Neale felt that the time had come for him toact.
"We must have pulled our anchor, or else some one has cut us adrift,"decided the lad. "And if any one has cut us loose it must be those menfrom the motor boat--the tramps--the thieves!"
He visualized their evil countenances and thought of how they hadbehaved toward Ruth and Agnes--that is, if these were the two men inquestion.
"And I wonder if Hank stands in with them," mused Neale. "I must findout. But first I've got to do something about the boat. If we're adrift,as we surely are, we may run into some other craft, or one may run intous, or--"
Neale paused as he felt a grating beneath the broad, flat bottom of theboat and the craft careened slightly.
"We may go aground or be blown on an island," was his completed thought."But we're safe so far," he mentally added, as he felt the _Bluebird_slip off some under-water rock or reef of mud over which she progressed.
Then Neale galvanized himself into action. He forgot all about the drinkhe had been going to get, and, slipping on shoes and a rubber coat thathung in his room, he stepped out into the corridor which ran the lengthof the boat between the two rows of sleeping rooms.
Neale was going up on deck to look around and, if possible, find outwhat had caused the boat to break away from her moorings.
As Neale passed Ruth's door it opened and she came out, wrapped in aheavy robe.
"What is it, Neale?" asked the oldest Corner House girl. "Has anythinghappened?"
"Nothing much yet. But it may," was the answer. "We're adrift, and it'scoming on to blow. I'm going to see what the matter is."
"I'll come with you," Ruth offered. Neale was like a brother to theKenway girls. "Shall I call Mr. Howbridge and Mrs. Mac?" she asked.
"Not yet," he answered in a low voice. "It may be that the cable hasonly slipped, but I don't see how it could. In that case I'll only haveto take a few turns around a cleat and we'll be all right. No usecalling any one unless we have to."
"I'll come and help," Ruth offered, and Neale knew she could be ofexcellent service.
Together they ascended the stairs in the half darkness, illuminated bythe glow from a night oil lamp in the hall. But no sooner had theyemerged on the open deck than they became aware of the gravity of thesituation. They were almost blinded by an intense glare of lightning.This was followed by a menacing rumble of thunder, and then Ruth gaspedfor breath as a strong wind smote her in the face, and Neale, just aheadof her, turned to grasp her lest she be blown against a railing andhurt.
"Great guns!" exclaimed Neale, "it's going to be a fierce storm."
"Are we really adrift?" exclaimed Ruth, raising her voice to be heardabove the howl of the wind.
"I should say we are!" cried Neale in answer. "But the boat is so bigand solid she isn't going as fast as an ordinary craft would. But we'redrifting all right, and it's going to be a whole lot worse before it'sbetter. Do you want to stay here?" he asked.
"Of course I do! I'm going to help!" declared Ruth. But at that momentcame another bright flash of lightning and a terrific peal of thunder.And then, as if this had split open the clouds, down came a deluge ofrain.
"Go below and get on your waterproof and then tell the others to get upand dress," advised Neale. "We may come out of it all right, and againwe may not. It's best to be prepared."
"Are we--are we far from shore?" panted Ruth, the wind almost taking thewords from her mouth. "Are we apt to be dashed against it, do youthink?"
"We can't be wrecked," Neale answered her. "This is a well built boat.But we may have to go ashore in the rain, and it's best for the childrento be dressed."
"I'll tell them!" cried Ruth, and she descended, glad to be in out ofthe storm that was increasing in violence every moment. That little timeshe was exposed to it almost drenched her. Neale's rubber coat was agreat protection to him.
The boy gave one quick look around. The wind was blowing about over thedeck a number of camp stools that had been left out, but he reasonedthat they would be caught and held by the rope network about the deck.Neale's chief anxiety was about the anchor.
The cable to which this was bent was made fast to a cleat on the lowerdeck, and as the lad made his way there by an outside stairway he heardsome one walking on the deck he had just quitted.
"I guess that's Hank," Neale reasoned.
The boy was pulling at the anchor rope when he heard Hank's voice nearhim asking:
"What's the matter, Neale?"
"We're either dragging our anchor or the cable's cut," answered the lad.And then, as the rope came dripping through his hands, offering noresistance to the pull, he realized what had happened. The anchor wasgone! It had slipped the cable or been cut loose. Just which did not somuch matter now, as did the fact that there was nothing to hold the_Bluebird_ against the fury of the gale.
Realizing this, Neale did not pull the cable up to the end. He had foundout what he wanted to know--that the anchor was off it and somewhere onthe bottom of the lake. He next turned his attention to the boat.
"We're drifting!" he cried to Hank. "We've got to start the motor, andsee if we can head up into the wind. You go to that and I'll take thewheel!"
"All right," agreed the mule driver. "This is some storm!" he added,bending his head to the blast of the wind and the drive of the rain.
It was growing worse every moment, Neale realized. Buttoned as hisrubber coat was, the lower part blew open every now and then, drenchinghis bare legs.
As the boy hurried to the upper deck again to take command of thesteering wheel, he heard from within the _Bluebird_ sounds which toldhim the Corner House girls, their guardian, and Mrs. MacCall weregetting up. The voices of Tess and Dot could be heard, excited andsomewhat frightened.
"The only real danger," thought Neale to himself, "is that we may hit arock or something, and stave a hole in us. In that case we'd sink, Iguess, and this lake is deep."
But he had not told Ruth that danger. He grasped the spokes of the wheelfirmly, and waited for the vibration that would tell him Hank hadstarted the motor. And as he waited he had to face the wind and rain,and listen to the vibrating thunder, the while he was almost blinded bythe vivid lightning. It was one of those fierce summer storms, and thetemperature took a sudden drop so that Neale was chilled through.
"Why doesn't Hank start that motor?" impatiently thought the lad. "We'redrifting fast and that big island must be somewhere in thisneighborhood. I wonder how close it is? If we hit that going likethis--good-night!"
A vivid flash of light split the darkness like a dagger of flame andrevealed the heaving tumultuous lake all about, the waters whipped andlashed into foam by the sudden wind. Storms came up quickly on LakeMacopic, due to the exposed situation of the body of water, and therewere often fatalities caused by boats being caught unprepared.
Just as Neale was going to take a chance and hurry below to see what wasdelaying Hank, there came the vibration of the craft which told that themotor had been started.
"Now we'll get somewhere," cried Neale aloud. "I think I'd better headinto the wind and try to make shore. If I can get her under the shelterof that bluff we passed this afternoon, it will be the best for all ofus."
He swung the wheel around, noting that the _Bluebird_ answered to
thehelm, and then he dashed the water from his face with a motion of hishead, shaking back his hair. As the craft gathered speed a figure cameup the stairs and emerged on deck. It fought its way across the deck tothe wheel and a voice asked:
"Are we making progress, Neale?"
"You shouldn't have come here, Aggie!" he cried,above the noise of the storm.]
"Oh, yes! But you shouldn't have come up here, Aggie!" he cried, abovethe noise of the storm. "You'll be drenched!"
"No, I have on Mr. Howbridge's raincoat. I made him and Ruthie let mecome up here to help you. You certainly need help in this emergency."
"It's an emergency all right!" declared Neale. "But we may come out ofit safely."
"Can't I help you steer?" asked Agnes. "I know how."
"Yes, you may help. I'm trying to make--"
Neale never finished that sentence. A moment later there was a jar thatmade him and Agnes stagger, and then the _Bluebird_ ceased to progressunder the power of her motor and was again being blown before the furyof the storm.