CHAPTER XXII
ON THE ISLAND
"What's the matter? What has happened?" cried Agnes, clinging partly toNeale and partly to the wheel to preserve her balance. "Are we sinking?"
"Oh, no," he answered. "We either struck something, or the motor hasgone bad and stopped. I think it's the last. I'd better go and see."
"I'll take the wheel," Agnes offered.
"You don't need to," said her companion. "She had no steerageway on her;and you might as well keep out of the storm. The rain is fierce!"
Agnes decided to take this advice, since staying on deck now would do nogood and Neale was going below.
Neale raced to the motor room, where he found Hank ruefullycontemplating the silent engine.
"What's the matter?" asked Neale. "Is she broken?"
"Busted, or something," was the answer. "If this was a mule, now, Icould argue with it. But I don't know enough about motors to take anychances. All I know is she was going all right, and then she suddenlylaid down on me--stopped dead."
"Yes, I felt it," returned Neale. "Well, we'll have to see what thetrouble is."
Agnes had gone into the main cabin where she found her sisters and Mr.Howbridge. Mrs. MacCall, in a nightcap she had forgotten to remove, wassitting in one corner.
"Oh, the perils o' the deep! The perils o' the deep!" she murmured. "Thesalty seas will snatch us fra the land o' the livin'!"
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. Howbridge, for he saw that Dot and Tess weregetting frightened by the fear of the Scotch housekeeper's words. "LakeMacopic isn't salty, and it isn't deep. We'll be all right in a littlewhile. Here's Agnes back to tell us so," he added with a smile at hisward. "What of the night, Watchman?" he asked in a bantering tone.
"Well, it isn't a very pleasant night," Agnes was forced to admit.
"Why aren't we moving?" asked Tess. "We were moving and now we havestopped."
"Neale has gone to see, Tess. He will have things in shape before long,"was Agnes' not very confident reply.
"Well, we're nice and snug here," said Ruth, guessing that something waswrong, and joining forces with Agnes in keeping it from Mrs. MacCall andthe younger children. "We are snug and dry here."
"I think I'll go and give the sailors a hand," Mr. Howbridge said."Ruth, you tell these little teases a story," he said as he shifted Dotout of his lap and to a couch where he covered her with a blanket.
"I'll get this wet coat off," remarked Agnes. "My, but it does rain!"She passed Mr. Howbridge his coat.
Ruth took her place as mistress of the little household of Corner Housegirls--mother to the three parentless sisters who depended so much onher.
"And now, children, for the story!" she said. "What shall it be about?"
This took the attention of Tess and Dot off their worries, and thoughthe wind still howled and the rain dashed against the windows of the_Bluebird_, they heeded it not.
Meanwhile Mr. Howbridge had made his way to the motor room where a soundof hammering on iron told him that efforts to make repairs were underway.
"What is it, boys?" he asked as he saw Neale and Hank busy over themotor.
"A wrench was jarred loose and fell into the flywheel pit," explainedNeale. "It stopped the motor suddenly, and until we get it loose wecan't move the machinery. We're trying to knock it out."
"Need any help?" asked the lawyer, who had donned an old suit ofclothing.
"I think we can manage," said Neale. "But you might take a look outsideand see what's happening. That is, besides the storm. We can hear that."
"Yes, it seems to insist on being heard," agreed the guardian of thegirls. "You say the anchor is dragging, Neale?"
"No, it's gone completely. At the bottom of the lake somewhere. I didn'thave a chance to examine the end of the cable to see if it was cut ornot."
"Cut!" exclaimed the lawyer in surprise.
"Well, it may have been cut by--accident," went on Neale, with a meaninglook which Mr. Howbridge understood.
"I'll find out," was the comment, and then the lawyer went out into therain while Neale and the mule driver resumed their labors to loosen themonkey wrench which was jammed under the flywheel, thus effectuallypreventing the motor from operating.
Mr. Howbridge made his way along the lower deck until he came to wherethe anchor cable was made fast to the holding cleat. He pulled up thedripping rope, hand over hand, until he had the end on deck.
A lightning flash served to show him that the end was partly cut andpartly frayed through.
"It may have chafed on a sunken rock or been partly cut on the edge ofsomething under water," thought the lawyer. "At any rate the anchor isgone, and unless I can bend on a spare one we've got to drift until theycan get the motor going. I wonder if I can find a spare anchor. CaptainLeed said nothing about one when he turned the boat over to me."
Stumbling about the deck in the rain, storm and darkness, the lawyersought for a possible spare anchor. Meanwhile Ruth kept up the spiritsof her two smallest sisters and Mrs. MacCall by gayly telling stories.She was a true "little mother," and in this instance she well deservedthe appellations of both "Martha" and "Minerva."
Fortunate it was for the Corner House girls that the _Bluebird_ was astaunch craft, broad of beam and stout in her bottom planks. Otherwiseshe never would have weathered the storm that had her in its grip.
Lake Macopic was subject to these sudden outbursts of the furiouselements. It was surrounded by hills, and through the interveningvalleys currents of air swept down, lashing the waters into big waves.Sailing craft are more at the mercy of the wind and water than are powerboats, but when these last have lost their ability to progress they arein worse plight than the other craft, being less substantial in build.
But the _Bluebird_ was not exactly of either of these types. In fact thecraft on which the Corner House girls were voyaging was merely a bigscow with a broad, flat bottom and a superstructure made into thesemblance of a house on shore--with limitations, of course. It would bepractically impossible to tip over the craft. The worst that couldhappen, and it would be a sufficient disaster, would be that a holemight be stove in the barge-like hull which would fill, and thus sinkthe boat. And the lake was deep enough in many places to engulf the_Bluebird_.
Mr. Howbridge realized this as he stumbled about the lower deck, lookingfor something that would serve as an anchor. He soon came to theconclusion that there was not a spare one on board, for had there beenit naturally would have been in plain view to be ready for use inemergencies.
Having made a circuit of the deck, not finding anything that could beused, Mr. Howbridge debated with himself what he had better do next. Hestepped into a small storeroom in the stern of the craft above the motorcompartment where Neale and Hank were working, and there the lawyerflashed the pocket electric torch he carried. It gave him a view of aheterogeneous collection of articles, and when he saw a heavy piece ofiron his eyes lightened.
"This may do for an anchor," he said. "I'll fasten it on the rope andheave it overboard."
But when he tried to move it alone he found it was beyond his strength.He could almost manage it, but a little more strength was needed.
"I'll have to get Neale or Hank," mused Mr. Howbridge. "But I hate toask them to stop. The safety of the _Bluebird_ may depend on how quicklythey get the motor started. And yet--"
He heard some one approaching along the lower deck and a moment later aflash of lightning revealed to him Ruth.
"I heard some one in here," said the Corner House girl, "and I came tosee who it was. I thought maybe the door had blown open and wasbanging."
"I was looking for an anchor, and I have found one, though I can't moveit alone," the lawyer said. "But why have you left your sisters?"
"Because Mrs. Mac is telling them a Scotch story. She has managed tointerest them, and, at the same time, she is forgetting her owntroubles. So I came out. Let me help move the anchor, or whatever itis."
"Spoken like Martha!" said Mr. Howbridge. "Well, perhaps yo
ur addedstrength will be just what is needed. But you must be careful not tostrain yourself," he added, anxiously.
"I am no baby!" exclaimed Ruth. "I want to help! Where is it?"
Flashing his light again, her guardian showed her, and then, while thewind seemed to howl in fiercer fury, if that were possible, and whilethe rain beat down like hail-pellets, they managed to drag out on deckthe heavy piece of iron, which seemed to be some part of a machine.
The storeroom opened on that side of the deck where the superstructureof the houseboat gave some shelter, and, working in this, Ruth and Mr.Howbridge managed to get the frayed end of the anchor rope attached tothe heavy iron.
"Now if we can heave this overboard it may save us from drifting on therocks until Neale and Hank can get the engine to working again," saidthe lawyer.
"We'll try!" exclaimed Ruth. Her guardian caught a glimpse of her faceas the skies flashed forth into flame again. Her lips were parted fromher rapid breathing, revealing her white teeth, and even in the stressand fury of the storm Mr. Howbridge could not but admire her. Though noone ever called Ruth Kenway pretty, there was an undeniable charm abouther, and that had been greater, her guardian thought, ever since the dayof Luke Shepard's entrance into her life.
"It's our last hope, and a forlorn one," Mr. Howbridge said dubiously,looking at their anchor.
Together they managed to drag the heavy piece of iron to the edge of thedeck. Then, making sure the rope was fast about the cleat, they heavedthe improvised anchor over the side. It fell into Lake Macopic with agreat splash.
"What was that?" cried Neale, coming out on deck, followed by Agnes, whohad been down watching him work at the engine.
"Our new anchor," replied the lawyer. "It may serve to hold us if youcan't get the engine to working," and he explained what he and Ruth haddone.
"Good!" exclaimed Neale. "I hope it does hold, for it doesn't seem as ifwe were going to get that monkey wrench out in a hurry. I'm looking fora long bar of iron to see if we can use it as a lever."
"There may be one in the storeroom where we found the anchor," remarkedRuth.
"I'll have a look."
The _Bluebird_ was not living up to her name. Instead of skimming moreor less lightly over the surface of the lake she was rolling to and froin the trough of the waves, which were really high. Now and then thecrest of some comber broke over the snub bow of the craft, sending backthe spray in a shower that rattled on the front windows of the cabin.
Anxiously the four on deck waited to see the effect of the anchor. If itheld, catching on the bottom of the lake, it would mean a partialsolution of their troubles. If it dragged--
Neale hastened to the side and looked down at the anchor cable. It wastaut, showing that the weight had not slipped off. But the drift of theboat was not checked.
"Why doesn't it hold?" asked Ruth.
"Is it dragging?" came from the lawyer.
"I don't believe it is touching bottom," replied Neale. "I'm afraid therope is too short. We are moving faster than before."
Just as he spoke there came a vivid flash of lightning. Involuntarilythey all shrank. It seemed as though they were about to be blasted wherethey stood. And then, as a great crash followed, they trembled with thevibration of its rumble.
The next instant Ruth and Agnes cried simultaneously:
"Look! We're being blown ashore!"
Neale and Mr. Howbridge peered through the darkness. Another lightningflash showed their peril.
"We're going to hit the island!" shouted Neale.
A few seconds later the wind blew the _Bluebird_, beams-on, upon a rockyshore.