CHAPTER XXI

  REUNITED

  Jerry Hopkins, disturbed at his lonely meal by the sound of somethingor some one moving on the deck of the derelict, started slowly andcautiously toward the companionway.

  “If it’s one of the crew of this ship or some of the passengers, I’llbe all right,” he reasoned. “But if it’s one of some beastly Germansubmarine crew----”

  He did not finish, but looked around for some sort of weapon. He saw asmall bar of iron, which might have been used by the cook for a firepoker, and with this in his hand Jerry cautiously went up on deck.

  “Anybody here?” he called, as he carefully thrust up his head. He heldthe iron bar in readiness. There was no answer, and as Jerry felt thecold, clammy air on his face and smelled the fog, he knew that thederelict was still enveloped in the mist.

  “No one seems to have boarded me,” he mused, as his eyes searchedthe whiteness for a glimpse of some other craft. “If any one is herebesides myself he must have been in hiding. Hello!” he cried as loudlyas he could. “Anybody at home?”

  There was no answer. There was only the swish and swash of the heavingocean against the sides of the derelict and the rattle and bang of someloose gear, as a swell gently careened her to and fro.

  “Nobody here,” mused Jerry. “What could that noise have been?”

  He looked about, at first warily, for he half expected to have toengage with some German, as he and his chums had engaged in thetrenches in France. Then he became convinced that he was all aloneon the craft, and, though he had a realization that this would reactdreadfully on him later, for the time being he was thankful that therewas no one with whom to contend.

  “I wonder what made that noise,” said Jerry again, and he spoke aloud.The words had scarcely left his lips before he heard a banging,rattling sound, and then he saw what it was.

  A loose keg, probably one used for water, was rolling about the deck,and this, colliding with various objects, movable and stationary, hadcaused the commotion.

  “Well, it’s a good thing to know what it was,” mused Jerry with an airof relief. “I’ll just make this fast now, so it won’t wake me up whenI get to sleep.”

  This done, his next thought was on the very subject he had lastmentioned--going to sleep.

  “It wouldn’t be a bad plan to look to see where I’m going to bunkto-night,” mused Jerry. “I’ve got to turn in some time, and it must begetting on toward night--though one wouldn’t know just what time it wasin this fog.”

  He looked at his wrist watch. It was one enclosed in a waterproof case,and the hands showed four o’clock in the afternoon.

  “I’ll consider that what I just ate was my lunch,” decided Jerry, “andwhen the time comes I’ll have a late supper. Wish Chunky and Ned werehere to share it with me--also the professor. Wonder what happened tothem.”

  It was a useless wondering, and Jerry realized it, but he could nothelp speculating on what fate had befallen his companions. They hadbeen standing so near him when the crash came that there was hardly anyquestion in Jerry’s mind but what they had either gone overboard, ashad he, or been hurt.

  “If they fell into the sea and managed to cling to something, maybethere’s a chance for them,” he reflected. “But if they were right inthe path of the collision, it may be all up with them. This certainlywas a disastrous voyage from the start. But I suppose I ought to bethankful that I’m alive.”

  Carrying out his intention of finding a place to sleep, Jerry wentbelow again. He found he had quite a choice open to him. There were anumber of cabins and comfortable beds he could pick from, and thoughsome of the bed clothing had been taken, or at least had disappeared,there was more than he needed.

  He made himself up a berth in what he decided was the captain’s cabin,though all papers and everything else to indicate specific ownershiphad been removed. Jerry hung up his own wet clothes to dry, as heintended donning his uniform as soon as it was in shape to wear.

  “I haven’t been discharged yet,” he reasoned; “and if any of the dirtyGermans show up I want to show ’em who I am!”

  Having made up his berth, Jerry laid out some food he intended to cookwhen supper time came, and then, having banked the fire in the galleystove, he went up on deck again. The fog was still heavy, and he couldsee not much further than the width of the deck of the derelict. But hefelt that this was a good opportunity for making an investigation ofthe craft, to decide, if possible, what character of ship she had been.

  With his knowledge of vessels it did not take Jerry long to make uphis mind that the _Altaire_ had been a tramp freighter, engaged inwhatever trade she could pick up. He did not investigate the cargoholds, but they seemed partly filled with boxes and cases. Some hadbeen broken out and carried bodily away. Others were strewn about belowdecks, the contents, partly removed, of a few giving evidence thatgoods of iron, steel, rubber, clothing, farm implements, and householdappliances had made up the manifest.

  “I guess the Germans wish they could have taken the whole cargo,” musedJerry, as he looked at the broken cases. “Their subs are limited,however. Well, if I could get this ship and her cargo to some port Icould make a lot of money.”

  That was impossible, as he knew, unaided as he was. His next care wasto make as thorough an inspection of the craft as was possible, andthis revealed the important fact that she was not leaking or sinking.

  “If the Germans thought they put her out of business they made amistake,” Jerry decided. “Unless they left her with time bombs aboard,which haven’t gone off yet.”

  This thought gave him a fright, and he looked as carefully as hecould in what he thought the most likely places to find such fiendishdevices. He saw nothing alarming, however.

  The engine room was in confusion, and certain parts of the machinerywere broken. But whether these were vital parts Jerry did not stop todetermine. He knew that without help he could not hope to operate theengines anyhow; and without a boiler room gang to get up steam, eventhe most perfect engine would not run for the best expert in existence.

  “I might hoist some sort of sail,” mused the lone navigator. “I supposeI can do that. And I ought to set some sort of signal. This fog can’tlast forever, and if any ship passes me I want those on board to knowI’m in need of help. I’ll go up and see what I can manage.”

  Jerry knew there were certain signals that would indicate a vessel indistress, while others would show the craft was merely unmanageable. Hecame under both headings, so to speak.

  By rummaging in the chart room the lad found a signal book, and alsoa set of flags and some lanterns. These last had oil in them and wereready for lighting.

  “That’s what I’ll do!” decided Jerry. “I’ll hoist the flags for daywork, and use the lanterns at night. Might as well get the best I canout of it.”

  Finding the proper combination of flags to indicate that he was both indistress and unmanageable, Jerry hoisted them as high as he could onthe wireless masts.

  “I’d send out a call for help if I could get the electrical machineryto working,” said Jerry, as he looked into the wireless room. But hesaw that there had been a destructive force engaged here, for some ofthe instruments were smashed. He knew how to operate a simple sendingset, and also how to receive messages, but he reasoned that it was outof the question to make this apparatus available.

  “The Huns must have set off a bomb here to prevent the _Altaire_signaling for help,” he reasoned.

  Having hoisted his signals, Jerry began to look about for the materialfor getting sail on his craft. There was plenty of canvas, and he knewenough about a boat to feel sure he could get up some kind of surfacethat the wind might get hold of.

  “It will give her steerage way, anyhow,” he reasoned, “and I’ll needthat if the wind begins to blow and the old craft falls into thetrough. Got to keep her head up to the waves or I’ll be swamped. If asail won’t do it, I’ll have to rig up a sea anchor.”

  This is merely a drag, fastened to the
stern of a disabled ship bymeans of ropes. A sea anchor floats just submerged under the surface,and, offering no surface to the wind while the higher structure of avessel acts almost as a sail, the anchor becomes a sort of auxiliaryrudder in cases where there is not momentum enough for the regularrudder to be effective, or where it is missing.

  Jerry found what he thought would make a sail, and he was consideringhow he could best use this when he noticed that there was a puffof wind. As this had been the first in some days it attracted hisattention.

  “It’s coming on to blow!” exclaimed the lad. “Good! That will clearaway the fog and I can see where I am. Maybe I can sight the _Sherman_!”

  It was this same puff of wind that brought hope to the hearts of Bob,the professor, and Judd aboard the life raft.

  “What did you think you saw?” asked the sailor, as Bob uttered hisexclamation at the sight of something through a rift in the fog.

  “I saw a ship! A ship with camouflaged sides!” exclaimed the stout lad.“It’s the _Sherman_! Right ahead there! Look! There where the fog isbreaking again!”

  “I SAW A SHIP!” EXCLAIMED THE STOUT LAD. “RIGHT AHEADTHERE!”]

  Even Professor Snodgrass looked. For a moment after Bob had firstspoken the fog had closed in, shutting out the momentary view he hadhad. Now the wind freshened, the fog blew away, and he pointed at whathe had seen.

  “It is a ship!” exclaimed the professor.

  “But not the _Sherman_!” cried Judd. “That’s an abandoned vessel! Thederelict, I do believe, that crashed into us!”

  “Ahoy there! Ahoy the derelict!” shouted Bob, standing up and wavinghis arms.

  The fog rapidly blew away. The wind caught the sail on the life raft,and the mass moved forward. Judd quickly thrust an oar through a stapleat the stern made for the purpose, and began to steer. They approachedthe strange, silent vessel that now loomed in front of them.

  “It is a derelict,” said Bob in a low voice. “There isn’t a soul onboard.”

  Nearer and nearer they approached. Bob and the sailor joined theirvoices in a shout.

  “It’s just possible some one may be there,” said the stout lad.

  They were near enough now to look across the broken rails--to note thedamage done to the craft. And then, as they shouted again, they saw afigure running along the deck.

  “Some one is there! Some one is there!” cried Bob, greatly excited.

  “Ahoy! Ahoy!” shouted the sailor.

  “Now I shall be able to get some paper for my crab notes,” murmured theprofessor.

  The figure on the derelict leaned over the side and waved a franticwelcome.

  “Bob! Professor!” a voice shouted.

  “Why--why--he knows us!” gasped the stout lad. “Who can it be?”

  A moment later the mist completely cleared away and the setting sunshone clearly. Bob saw who was aboard the derelict and cried in delight.

  “Jerry! Jerry boy! It’s Jerry Hopkins! Oh, what luck!”

  And a moment later the life raft grated gently against the side of the_Altaire_. The refugees were reunited.

 
Clarence Young's Novels
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