CHAPTER II.
KEEP IN.
Teddy Dunlap's father was formerly a coal-passer on a steam-tug, andmany times had the lad, while spending the day with his parent, seenan ocean-going steamer at close range, while the small craft wentalongside the larger one for business purposes.
At such times the boy seldom lost an opportunity of boarding the bigvessel, and thus it was that he had a general idea of where he mightthe most readily find a hiding-place this day when he was venturing somuch in the hope of meeting his only relative.
The dinner-pails and the parcel under his arm would have done muchtoward warding off suspicion as to his purpose, had any one observedhim; but every person on deck, whether member of the crew ortemporarily employed to make the ship ready for sea, was so intent onhis duties as to have no thought for a lad who appeared to beattending strictly to his own business.
Even if any one aboard had observed Teddy particularly, the naturalthought would have been that he had come to deliver the parcel andpails to one of the workmen, and so long as the boy had been permittedto come over the rail, it was reasonable to suppose he had dueauthority for being there.
Teddy knew full well that his chances for successfully stowing away inthe vicinity of the main cabin, the engine-room, or the deck-houses,were exceedingly slight, for such places were visited by many; butdown in the very eyes of the ship, where were located the quarters forthe seamen, was more than one dark, out-of-the-way hole into which hecould creep with but little fear of being discovered.
Turning his head neither to the right nor the left, and moving rapidlyas if it was his desire to be ashore again as soon as possible, theboy went into the forecastle--the sailors' parlour.
The dark, ill-ventilated place, filled with noisome odours, had atthat moment no living occupants save the rats who had grown boldthrough long tenancy. The crew were all on deck, for at this time,when quick despatch was necessary, no skulking would be allowed, andhad Teddy's friend with the dinner-pails attended to the arrangements,the boy could not have had a better opportunity.
He might be even boisterously noisy, and there was little likelihoodany would come to learn the cause of the uproar until after thesteamer had left the coal-sheds to begin her long voyage straighttoward the enemy's islands.
Being in a certain degree aware of this last fact, Teddy set aboutmaking his arrangements for the ticketless voyage in a methodicalfashion, there being no reason why he should allow himself to behurried.
The crew on board the good steamer _Merrimac_ had neither better norworse quarters than those to be found on any other craft of her class;but to a lad whose experiences of seafaring life had been confined toshort excursions around the harbour, this "sea parlour" was by nomeans inviting, and save for the incentive which urged him forward,Teddy Dunlap might have allowed himself to become disheartened evenbefore it had been proven that he could take passage secretly.
"It ain't so _awful_ tough," he said to himself, "an' daddy will beall the more glad to see me after knowin' I've had a hard time gettin'to him."
This last thought was sufficient to strengthen his failing courage,and straightway he set about searching for a hiding-place where hemight remain concealed until the steamer should come alongsideCommodore Schley's flag-ship, the _Brooklyn_, whereon was his father.
Then--but there would be time enough to form plans for showing himselfwhen he had nothing better with which to occupy his attention.
The forecastle was well filled with sea-chests, bedding, which as yethad not been put in place, and such like goods as seamen wouldnaturally bring with them on a reasonably long voyage, therefore Teddyfound it difficult to judge as to what might be the generalarrangements for stowage after the steamer should be under way; but hehad good reason to believe it was necessary to find some place sosmall that it could not well be utilised by the men.
When, after some search, he came upon a narrow, dark, doorlesscloset, partially filled with coils of rope, bolts of canvas, and whatappeared to be a general assortment of odds and ends, it seemed as ifhe had indeed found that for which he was looking.
There was little chance this small den would be required for otherthan what it was then used, and he had only to fear that some of thearticles it contained might suddenly be needed, when he must of anecessity be discovered by whosoever should be sent to overhaul thegoods.
"I'll have to take the chances," Teddy said to himself, havingconsidered well this possibility of discovery. "It ain't likelythey'll want anything out of here till after the steamer is at sea,an' then it'll be too late to send me ashore."
Once having decided that this was to be his abiding-place during thetime he could remain in hiding on board the _Merrimac_, Teddy setabout making such bestowal of the goods as would best serve to hiscomfort, arguing with himself that he might not have anotheropportunity for putting the new quarters into decent shape.
Understanding that once the steamer was at sea she would be tossedabout by the waves until it might be difficult for him to remain inwhatever place he pleased, the boy's first care was to make of therope and canvas a barricade to hold the remainder of the goods inproper position, and, this done, there was little else possible, saveto unroll a bolt of the sail-cloth that it should serve as a bed.
"It's a good deal snugger than I expected, an' the dark part of itdon't count," he said to himself, contentedly, as he wedged the twotin pails filled with water, and his store of provisions, inside thelargest coil of rope. "When there ain't too much noise I can hear thecrew talkin', and that'll help out big if a feller happens to getlonesome. Them signs on the coal-yard said 'keep out,' an' I come in;now I ought'er put up one that says 'keep in,' an' perhaps I'll go outquicker'n I'm countin' on. Anyhow it's a case of keepin' in mightysnug, 'less I want to run up against that captain once more, an' I'mthinkin' he'd be an ugly customer."
Teddy Dunlap was well content. He believed his store of provisions andwater was sufficient to keep both hunger and thirst at a distanceduring such time as it might be necessary for him to remain there inhiding, and when the short term of imprisonment should come to an end,he would be with his father.
What more could any twelve-year-old boy ask for?
It was while counting up his reasons for being thankful that thestowaway fell asleep, the heat, the darkness, and the comparativequiet all contributing to make his eyelids heavy, and he was yetunconscious when two noisy, bustling little tugs, one either side ofthe big vessel, towed her down the harbour.
The voyage had begun, and, apparently, there was no suspicion in theminds of the officers that the _Merrimac_ had on board other than herregularly shipped crew.
When Teddy awakened he felt comfortable both in mind and body; thesteamer was rising and falling on the ocean swell, but not to such adegree as inconvenienced him in the slightest, and the many odourswith which his nostrils were assailed passed almost entirelyunnoticed.
He believed, because of the pounding of the waves, that the _Merrimac_was rushing through the waters at a sharp pace, and this supposed factwas in itself sufficient to counterbalance any defects he may havediscovered in his hiding-place, for the greater the speed the soonerhe might see his father.
Not until after he had been awake several moments was it possible todistinguish, amid the varied noises, the sound of human voices; but hewas finally able to do so, and became greatly cheered thereby.
"Now, this ain't goin' to be so bad," he said to himself, contentedly."I'll know everything that's goin' on, 'cause it won't be a big job tocrawl out far enough to hear the men talk, an' a feller couldn't bebetter fixed, not if he'd paid two prices for a ticket."
Then the idea came to Teddy Dunlap that he was hungry, and he laughedgently at the thought that it was only necessary to stretch out hishand in order to satisfy the desire.
"Talk 'bout your palace-cars! They ain't a marker 'longside this wayof travellin'. I don't have to wait for any tousled-headed nigger tobring my order, 'cause here it is!"
/> Straightway the boy began to satisfy his hunger, doing it in aneconomical fashion, for he was not minded to exhaust his supply on thefirst day of leaving port.
He drank sparingly of the water, but yet taking sufficient to quenchhis thirst, and when the meal was come to an end lay back on thecanvas bed luxuriously, congratulating himself again and again, uponhis determination to go in search of his father.
The motion of the steamer grew more violent; but Teddy was proofagainst such rolling as the _Merrimac_ was indulging in then.
There remained the same buffeting of the waves which told of progress;told that the distance between himself and his father was rapidlybeing lessened, and this was sufficient for the stowaway.
The plunging of the steamer was to Teddy Dunlap no more than theviolent rocking of a cradle would be to an infant; it prevented himfrom remaining quiet as would have been pleasant, but did not driveslumber from his eyelids.
In less than ten minutes after having partaken of the meal he wasagain wrapped in slumber, and during a full twenty-four hours healternately slept and ate; but at the end of that time was more thanready for a change of programme.
Then it was that his eyes refused to close; the folds of canvas, whichat first had seemed as soft as any fellow could have asked for, becamehard as iron, and he suddenly discovered that he was sore and lamefrom having been flung about when the vessel rolled.
The hardships of a stowaway's life suddenly became a reality, andinstead of congratulating himself upon being on board the _Merrimac_,he began to speculate upon the probable length of the voyage.
He hungered to hear the voices of the men more distinctly, and spentfull two hours gently moving the dunnage around so that he might crawlout near the entrance to this seeming cave.
When he had gotten so far into the forecastle that no more than twocoils of rope hid him from view of the watch below, and understood itwould be dangerous to advance any farther, he learned that it wasimpossible to hear any more than such words as were spoken in theloudest tone. There was little hope of being able to realise whatmight be going on around him by such means.
Then came a most dismal twenty-four hours, when the _Merrimac_, metfull in the teeth by a gale of wind, staggered, plunged, and rolledher way along, every wave striking the iron hull with a force thatcaused Teddy to wince, and then came that deathly sickness whichthose who sail upon the sea are sometimes forced to endure.
There were many hours when the stowaway believed the steamer was aboutto go to the bottom, and he fancied death was the only relief from hisagony. He even ceased to think of his father, and considered no personsave himself, wondering why he had been so foolish as to believe itmight be wise to search for Commodore Schley's flag-ship.
More than once while the malady had a firm hold upon him, did hedecide to throw himself upon the mercy of whosoever might chance to bein view when he emerged from the hiding-place, and perhaps if thesickness had been less severe, his adventures would have ended as dothe greater number of such exploits.
Once having recovered, however, his heart became braver, even thoughhe learned that nearly all the water had been spilled while thesteamer was tossing about so wildly, and his store of provisions,which had seemed so large when he came on board, was nearly exhausted.
After this the hours passed more slowly, and each moment theimprisonment seemed more irksome.
It was only with difficulty he could force himself to remain screenedfrom view, and more than once did he venture dangerously near theentrance to his floating cave in the hope of seeing a human face, butyet he kept his secret forty-eight hours longer, when the provisions,as well as the water, had come to an end.
He had ceased to speculate upon the meeting with his father, butthought only of how long he could endure the pangs of hunger andthirst, and even the fear of the commander's possible brutality fadedaway as he dwelt upon the pleasure of having sufficient to eat anddrink.
And finally, as might have been expected, the moment arrived when hecould no longer hold his courage against the suffering, and he madepreparations to discover himself.
How long he had been cooped up in that narrow place it was impossiblefor him to so much as guess; he did not try to compute the number ofhours that had elapsed since he last tasted food or water; there wasonly in his mind an intense desire to receive the punishment forhaving stowed away, in order that he might the sooner satisfy thecravings of his stomach.
"It's no use to hold on any longer; the voyage ain't comin' to an endfor weeks an' weeks, an' I'll be dead in another day if I don't havesomethin' to eat. I'll go out this minute, an' take whatever they giveme in the way of a floggin', for waitin' won't make things anybetter."
Having arrived at this decision, Teddy Dunlap began to attack thecordage which screened the entrance to his retreat as if each strandof rope was a deadly enemy to be overcome without loss of time, andwhen he had thrown down the last obstacle he stood blinking andwinking in the not overly strong light of the forecastle, confrontedby a short, round-faced sailor, who surveyed him in mingled fear andastonishment.
"Where--who--what--oh, a stowaway, eh?" the little man cried, afterhaving expressed on his glistening face, in rapid succession, fear,astonishment, and bewilderment. "Well, I'll eat my hat if I ever heardof a lad stowin' away on a collier what's out on an errand like ours!"
"Yes, I'm a stowaway, an' I don't care who knows it!" Teddy cried, ina tone of desperation. "I held in just as long as any feller could,an' it seems as if I was next door to bein' dead, I'm so thirsty an'hungry!"
"You won't count triflin' things like that after you've come face toface with the captain, lad," and the little man appeared as trulysorrowful as any one of a like jolly countenance ever can, howeversaddening the situation.
"Will he let in to me pretty tough?"
"I'm thinkin' that anything else you've had in that line will seem agood deal like a joke, alongside of what he'll deal out, an' thatain't the worst of it."
"What else can he do?" and Teddy looked up timidly, absolutelyfrightened out of his hunger.
"This 'ere is the next thing to a government steamer, seein's we're onnaval service, an' the captain is like to turn you over to the firstcruiser we meet, for extra punishment. I don't know how Uncle Samtreats them as stows away on his vessels, but I'll go bail it ain'twith any very tender hand."
Teddy Dunlap looked around the forecastle, searching for some one towhom he could appeal, for he believed this jolly-looking little sailorwas trying to play upon his fears; but the sea-parlour was empty.
If he had waited forty-eight hours for an opportune time in which tomake his appearance, he could not have come at a better moment.
"What's the use tryin' to scare a feller almost to death?" he asked,piteously. "I've got to take the dose, of course; but there's no needof your rubbin' it in."
"I ain't comin' any game on you, lad, an' that's the solemn truth.While I never saw the captain of this 'ere steamer till I came aboard,I'll eat my hat if he ain't a tartar when you rub his fur the wrongway, an' I'm tryin' to think if there ain't some way of gettin' youout of the scrape."
"I'd go back into my hole if I had somethin' to eat an' drink."
"Where'd you come from?"
Teddy pointed to his late place of concealment, and the jolly littleman said, quite cheerfully:
"That's the very thing for you to do, my son. I don't want to see youabused, an' it'll be hard lines if between us you can't be got offthis bloomin' steamer without everybody's knowin' that you've cheatedUncle Sam out of a passage."
"Can you get me somethin' to eat?" Teddy asked, imploringly.
"I will if it takes every cent that's comin' to me in the way ofwages, to square the cook. Tell me what brought you here, sonny? Youcan stand jest behind this dunnage, an' we'll be able to talk quitecomfortable."
That the little man would be a real friend there could be no doubt,and without hesitation Teddy told him the whole story, neither addingto nor taking
therefrom, and saying, by way of conclusion:
"Of course it'll be all right when I come across daddy, for thereain't no captain of a coal-steamer who'd dare give it to me very roughwhile he was around."
"An' your father is aboard the _Brooklyn_, eh?"
"Yes; he shipped as coal-passer."
"Well, I don't rightly know what he'll be able to do for you in casewe come across him, which is doubtful; but from what I've seen ofskippers since this war begun, I'm thinkin' our captain will swing apretty heavy hand, unless he meets some other feller who holds abigger commission."
"You talk as if I couldn't find daddy," Teddy interrupted. "He'saboard the flag-ship."
"That's what I heard you say; but it ain't any proof we'll come acrosshim. This 'ere cargo of coal is goin' where it's most needed, an' wemay never find any of Schley's fleet."
"But we're goin' right where the war-vessels are."
"See here, my son, Commodore Schley's fleet ain't the only squadron inthis war by a long chalk, an' we might work at coalin' the navy fromnow till we're gray-headed without comin' across him. I'm afraid thechances of findin' your father are slim; but I'm bound to help youout'er the snarl that bloomin' longshoreman got you into, if it so beI can. Get back into the hole, an' I'll see what can be found in theway of grub."
Teddy, more disheartened because of the doubt expressed as to thepossibility of finding his father, obeyed the little man's orderwithout remonstrance, and once alone again, gave himself up to themost disagreeable thoughts, absolutely forgetting for the moment thathe had supposed himself on the verge of starvation a short timeprevious.
As yet he had not absolutely divulged his secret, save to the littlesailor who had promised to be his friend, and it might be possiblethat at some port he could slip on shore without the knowledge of anysave this one man.
But all such counted for nothing at the moment, in view of thepossibility that he had, perhaps, made the venture in vain.
There was another and yet more alarming view to be taken of thesituation. He might be forced to go ashore in a strange harbour, forit was hardly within the range of probability that he could return inthe _Merrimac_ to the home port, and then there was the ugly chancethat possibly there would be great difficulty in finding his way back.
"I've made the biggest kind of a fool of myself!" he wailed, verysoftly; "but I won't let anybody know that I'm willin' to agree to it.When a feller gets into a muss he's bound to crawl out of it an' keephis upper lip stiff, else folks will have the laugh on him. It ain'tso certain but I'd better go straight on deck an' take my dose; thecaptain won't be likely to kill me, an' the sooner it's over theeasier I'll feel."
It is not certain but that Teddy Dunlap might have put this newproposition into execution at once, had it not been for the coming ofthe little sailor, who said, in a cheery tone:
"Here you are, my hearty, salt horse an' tea! I reckon you can worryalong on that for a spell, an' meanwhile I'll keep my weather eyeliftin' for you. Things may not be more'n half as bad as they look,an' even that'll be tough enough."
"I've been thinkin' I'd better have it out with the captain now, an'then I wouldn't be dreadin' it."
"What's the sense of picklin' a rod for your own back when you may runaway from it? Hold on here for a spell, an' I'll get the lay of theland before anything foolish is done."
"You're mighty good to me," Teddy murmured, softly, as he took thehook-pot of tea and strip of cold meat from the sailor's hands."What's your name?"
"Bill Jones--Snippey, some of the hands call me when they want to befunny. I reckon we'd best not do any more chinnin', for the port watchwill be in here precious soon, an' there's more'n one man who'd makelife hot for you if he had the chance. I know what sailors are, lad,seein's I've been one myself, man an' boy, these thirty years, an'their foolin' is pretty tough play for one like you. Lay low till Igive the word, an' if there don't seem to be any way out of this snarlwithin the week, then it'll be time enough to let the old man have awhack at your hide."