CHAPTER XVI
A BOLT FROM THE SKY
Blake, Joe and the others looked on in bewildered surprise at thistouching scene. That Charlie should have found his mother in thisfashion seemed scarcely possible, yet such was the fact.
For several moments mother and son were in each other's arms, murmuringover and over again their protestations of love, and words of wondermentat the meeting.
"Where did you find him?" the mother finally demanded, of our friendsaboard the motor boat. "Oh, where ever did you find him?"
"We got him out of a house, just as we did you," said Mr. Ringold, "onlyit was an upside-down house, and not a burning one. And so he is reallyyour lost boy?"
"Of course he is!" she cried, while Charlie added:
"She's my mamma! I'm awful glad you found her for me. Where have youbeen, Mamma?"
"It's a long story," she sighed. "But first I want to hear about you.Oh, I thought I would never see you again."
"It won't take long to tell all we know about it," said Mr. Ringold, andhe related the facts of the rescue of the boy they had christenedCharlie House.
"His name is Charlie Wentworth," explained his mother, "and that was ourhouse from which you saved him. It's strange he did not know his lastname, and where he lived, for he has often been lost, and he couldalways tell where he lived all right."
"I guess the flood frightened him," said Blake, with a smile. "How didhe happen to be left in the house?"
"It was because of the confusion of the flood in our town," explainedMrs. Wentworth. "My husband and I were trying to save some of ourthings, taking them to my mother's place on a hill. We had taken Charlieto a neighbor's house before the water actually reached our dwelling,but he must have wandered back into it again when we did not know it,and have gone to sleep in the bed."
"Yep. I went to sleep in bed," supplemented the lad, with a happy laugh.
"Then the levee gave way suddenly," went on his mother, "and our house,and several others, were carried away. My husband and I supposed Charliewas safe at the neighbor's until we got there and found him missing. Wewere frantic, and searched everywhere for him, never dreaming he was inour own house. Then the flood grew worse and we had to flee to highground. We gave him up for drowned. Oh, it does not seem possible that Ihave him again!"
"Where is your husband now?" asked Mr. Ringold, as he guided the boattoward the place where the other rescued persons had been landed.
"We came on to this town, where my sister lived," went on Mrs.Wentworth. "This is my sister," she added, nodding toward the woman whohad first dived into the flood. "We had to take refuge with her, as wehad no other home, and we did not think the flood would come here also.But it did, and it brought my little boy to me!" she cried, as again sheclasped him in her arms.
"My husband is out, doing relief work," she resumed, after a moment. "Weheard a rumor, this morning, that some children had been rescued from araft farther down the river and he went down there to investigate,thinking, and hoping against hope, that our Charlie might be one ofthem.
"He will be more than surprised when he comes back to find my sister'shouse burned in the flood, and that I have Charlie. Oh, I wish he werehere now!"
"I want to see papa!" broke in Charlie.
"And so you shall, my dear boy, as soon as he comes back. I expect himto-night," said Mrs. Wentworth. "Oh, I cannot thank you enough--ever!"and she gazed fondly at our friends.
"It wasn't anything," said Mr. Ringold. "We happened to visit the houseout of curiosity, and of course we brought Charlie away when we foundhim. He's a brave little chap."
A little later the temporary camp, on the high ground, was reached, andthere Mrs. Wentworth, her sister and son were cared for by loving hands.The others who had been saved from the burning houses were also beinglooked after.
"Well, I guess we've done all we can here," said Blake, as they preparedto resume their journey down the river.
The blazing houses were burning themselves out, down to the edge of thewater, and the danger from the flames was over. But the peril of theflood still remained, for the waters slowly continued to rise.
"We found Charlie's folks," remarked Joe, when they had bidden anaffectionate farewell to the boy's mother, aunt and others of therescued ones, "we found Charlie's folks, but we can't seem to locate ourown friends."
"And yet we may find them in just as unexpected a manner as we foundMrs. Wentworth," spoke C. C. "I tell you I'm mighty glad we happenedalong when we did. It's just like a story out of a book."
"It would make a good moving picture, if we could show it all complete,"spoke Blake.
"It could be worked up into a drama, with the flood scenes you have,"declared the theatrical manager. "I could film the missing scenes later.I believe I will."
"There'll be one happy father to-night," observed Joe, thoughtfully."When Mr. Wentworth comes back, unsuccessful, and finds his son, he surewill be happy!"
"We'll miss the little chap," spoke Blake. "He was as good as gold whilehe was with us."
On the chance that there might still be some in need of rescue in thetown where the houses had burned, the _Clytie_ went back through theflooded streets, but men in small boats were patrolling the district,and, thanking our friends for their work, said they would look aftermatters now.
"But there won't be much left to look after, if this keeps on," spokeone man, gloomily enough, as he looked over the burned section, and theflooded village. "We've been smitten mighty hard."
"But we'll come up again, when the waters go down!" cried another, morecheerfully. "It might be worse. No lives have been lost, so far, that'sone blessing!"
"That's a good way to look at it," said Mr. Ringold, as he directed thecraft out into the main flood again, and turned her bow down stream.
As they were all tired, and wet from the work of rescuing those who hadleaped into the water, it was decided to make a stop, tie up, havesomething to eat, and clean the boat, for there was much mud and wateraboard from the clothing of the saved ones.
Accordingly, in a sheltered cove, tied to a tree that stuck up out ofthe flood, they made a halt. The preparation of the meal, and thecleansing of the boat took longer than they expected, and as Blakewanted to get some pictures of that flooded section, they decided toremain there over night, and proceed in the morning.
The weather had cleared again, at least for the time being, and, asidefrom their anxiety about the missing ones, our friends were fairlycomfortable. They had put on dry clothing, and sat in the cabin of theboat, discussing the strenuous scenes through which they had recentlypassed.
A loud crash awakened them all about midnight, no watch having beenkept. It sounded like some great explosion, close at hand.
"What was that?" cried Blake, sitting up in his bunk.
He had his answer a second later, for there was a blinding flash, andanother booming sound.
"Thunder and lightning!" exclaimed Joe. "It's a storm!"
A moment later there came a deluge of rain, that fairly roared as itstruck the deck and awnings of the boat.
"Whew!" exclaimed Blake. "This is fierce! If this keeps up long theflood will exceed its own high-water mark."
"Better take a look at the cable," suggested Mr. Ringold. "We don't wantto get adrift in this outburst."
Blake put on a raincoat, and stepped outside. The vivid lightning, andthe deafening thunder, kept up, and he was forced to cling to the railto steady himself against the motion of the craft, and the force of thewind. The _Clytie_ was tugging hard at her mooring cable, which wasstrained taut.
"It wouldn't do any harm to put on another rope!" cried Blake.
"We'll do it," answered Mr. Ringold, from the sleeping cabin.
Blake made his way to the cleat to which the boat end of the rope wasmade fast. He saw, with concern, that the rope was frayed, and would nothold much longer.
"Better hurry!" he called, but he had scarcely spoken wh
en the very skyseemed rent with a bolt of lightning, and, as the raging, roaring,flooded river was lighted up by the flash, the rope parted and the motorboat was carried away.
"We're adrift!" yelled Blake, as intense darkness succeeded the brightglare.
The Moving Picture Boys and the Flood; Or, Perilous Days on the Mississippi Page 17
