Off Santiago with Sampson

by Arthur Scott Bailey

  CHAPTER III.

  OFF SANTIAGO.

  It was really wonderful how changed everything appeared to TeddyDunlap after his interview with Bill Jones.

  As a matter of course there had been no enlargement of hishiding-place, and yet it seemed as if he could move about more freelythan before. He was forced to remain in quite as cramped a position,but it no longer seemed painful.

  Although the sailor had given him no encouragement that he mightsucceed in the task he had set himself, but, on the contrary, appearedto think it a hopeless one, Teddy felt positive that the moment wasvery near at hand when he would be clasped once more in his father'sarms.

  He had come out from his hiding-place weak and despairing, choosingthe most severe punishment that could be inflicted rather than longerendure the misery which had been his constant companion during so manydays, and now, even before partaking of the meat and tea, all wasforgotten in the belief that he would soon be with his father.

  It was as if some other boy had taken Teddy Dunlap's place, and thissecond lad was strong where the other had been weak.

  He made a hearty meal, rearranged his bed so that he might be nearerthe entrance to the hiding-place in case the sailor found it necessaryto communicate with him hurriedly, and then indulged in morerefreshing sleep than had visited his eyelids during the pastforty-eight hours.

  When Teddy awakened, however, much of this new courage had vanished,and again he allowed himself to look forward into the future,searching for trouble.

  He had no means of knowing whether it was day or night, for thesunlight never came into this hole; but, because of the silence in theforecastle, it seemed probable the crew were on deck.

  The steamer rode on an even keel, save for a sluggish roll which toldshe was sailing over calm seas, and the air had suddenly grownstifling hot.

  Creeping so near the entrance that there was great danger of beingdiscovered by such of the men as might come that way, Teddy waitedwith feverish impatience for some word from Bill Jones, and it seemedas if a full day must have passed before the voice of the jolly littlesailor was heard.

  "Well, my hearty, you're in great luck, an' no mistake. I wouldn'thave believed things could have gone so nearly your way, if I hadn'tseen 'em with my own eyes."

  Before the sailor ceased speaking, Teddy had come out from hishiding-place regardless of possible discovery, and appeared to be onthe point of rushing up the narrow companionway.

  "Hold on, you young rascal! Do you count on jumpin' right into thecaptain's arms?" and Bill Jones seized the lad by the shirt collar,pulling him backward with no gentle force. "Where was you headin'for?"

  "Ain't it time for me to go on deck?" Teddy asked, speaking withdifficulty because of the sailor's firm clutch.

  "Time? I reckon not, unless you're achin' for a taste of the rope'send. Our skipper ain't any very mild tempered man at the best oftimes, an' this is one of his worst days, for everything has beengoin' wrong end foremost jest when he wants to see the ship inapple-pie order."

  "I thought you said somethin' about my bein' in luck, an' the onlything of the kind that could come to me, would be to know father wason deck."

  "I don't reckon you'll see him aboard the _Merrimac_ for some time tocome, though you're nearer to him this minute than I ever allowedyou'd be in this part of the world."

  "What do you mean?" and Teddy literally trembled with the impatienceof anticipation.

  "Sampson's fleet is dead ahead. His vessels are the very ones we'vecome to coal, an' if that ain't luck enough for a stowaway, I'd liketo know what you could call it?"

  "Is the _Brooklyn_ anywhere near?" and Teddy did his best to speakcalmly.

  "Dead ahead, I tell you."

  "Will we run right alongside of her?"

  "I don't allow you've any claim to count on luck like that; but we'rehard by Sampson's fleet, and it'll be strange if we can't find achance of lettin' your father know where you are."

  "Find a chance? Why, I'll go right on deck an' yell to him. He's boundto come out when he hears me."

 

  There was in this remark something which struck Bill Jones as being socomical that he burst into a hearty laugh, and then, realising thathis messmates on deck might come down to learn the cause of suchunusual mirth, he partially checked himself, gurgling and choking inthe efforts to suppress his merriment, until it appeared that he wason the point of being strangled.

  "Go on deck an' yell to him," he muttered in the intervals betweenwhat appeared to be spasms. "Say, lad, it's precious lucky the weatheris so hot that the crew have been driven out, else we'd had 'em alldown on us, for I can't hold in, no matter how hard I try. So youthink it's only a case of goin' on deck an' yellin', to bring yourfather right over the rail!"

  "He'd come if he heard me," Teddy replied, sharply.

  "I ain't so certain 'bout that, for coal-passers don't have the choiceof promenading a battle-ship's deck. The officers generally havesomethin' to say about capers of that kind. Besides, you might yellyourself black in the face, even if the _Merrimac_ was layin' closealongside the _Brooklyn_, an' he'd never be any the wiser. You seem tohave the idee that one of Uncle Sam's vessels is built something afterthe pattern of a tugboat."

  "But I've got to get at him somehow," Teddy said, in perplexity, thenew and great joy which had sprung up in his heart dying away verysuddenly.

  "True for you, lad; but it ain't to be done in the way you'refiggerin' on, an', besides, havin' come along so smooth this far, I'mnot countin' on lettin' you run your nose against such a thistle asthe captain is like to be. It ought'er be enough that we've struckinto the very fleet you wanted to find, an' a boy what can't wait aspell after all the good fortune you've had, ain't fit to be scurryin''round here huntin' for his father."

  "I'll go right back into the hole, an' wait till you tell me to comeout," Teddy said, meekly, understanding full well what his plightwould be should this friendly sailor turn against him.

  "Now you're talkin' sense," Bill Jones said, approvingly. "I wascountin' on cheerin' you up a bit, by tellin' of where the _Merrimac_had fetched up, an' didn't allow to set you off like a wild Injun. Hotdown here, eh?"

  "It's kind'er warm, an' that's a fact."

  "So much the better, because the crew will stay on deck, an' you'llhave more of a chance to move around. It's only a case of layin' lowfor three or four days, an' then we'll see what your father can dotoward gettin' you out."

  "How will you let him know where I am?"

  "There'll be plenty of show for that if we come alongside the_Brooklyn_; I can manage to send him word, I reckon."

  The conversation was brought to an abrupt close by the appearance of asailor's feet as he descended from the deck, and Bill Jones turnedquickly away, pretending to be overhauling his sea-chest, while Teddymade all haste to regain his "hole."

  Now it was that the stowaway had every reason to congratulate himselfupon the fair prospects which were his, when it had seemed positivethat much trouble would come before the venture was ended, and yet themoments passed more slowly than at any time since he had voluntarilybecome a prisoner.

  With each hour his impatience increased, until it was with difficultyhe could force himself to remain in hiding.

  While he believed his father was very far away, there appeared goodreason for remaining hidden; but now, with the _Brooklyn_ close athand, it seemed as if he must make his whereabouts known without lossof time.

  Fear as to what terrible punishment the captain of the _Merrimac_might inflict, however, kept him in his proper place, and before manyhours passed Bill Jones brought him further intelligence.

  "The _New York_ is to take on the first of the coal," he said, leaningover the barricade of rope, and whispering to the impatient prisoner."I'm thinkin' we'll get around to the _Brooklyn_ before all the cargois gone, an' then this game of hide will come to an end--if yourfather is a smarter man than the average of us."

  The jolly little sailor had no time to say more, for
one of the pettyofficers interrupted the stolen interview by calling loudly for "BillJones," and while obeying the summons the sailor muttered to himself,"I wish the boy was well clear of this steamer; it seems as if he wasunder my wing, so to speak, an' I can't make out how any man, lower inrank than a full-fledged captain, can take him aboard one of UncleSam's ships."

  Fortunately Teddy had no misgivings as to the future, after his fatherhad been made aware of his whereabouts.

  He believed it would be the most natural thing in the world for him tostep on board the _Brooklyn_ as a guest, and the possibility that acoal-passer might not be allowed to invite his friends to visit himnever entered the lad's mind.

  Bill Jones, however, was seriously troubled as to the outcome of theaffair, as has been seen.

  He had promised to aid the stowaway, as he would have promised to aidany other lad in trouble, for the jolly little sailor was one everready to relieve the distress of others, no matter how great might bethe cost to himself; and now, having taken the case in hand, hisanxiety of mind was great, because he was by no means as certain ofhis ability to carry it through successfully as he would have Teddybelieve.

  Within four hours after the sailor reported that the _Merrimac_ wouldspeedily begin to take out her cargo, the prisoner in the forecastlebecame aware that the steamer was at a standstill.

  For the first time since leaving port the screw was motionless, andthe absence of that pounding which marked the revolutions of the shaftcaused a silence that for a few moments seemed almost painful.

  Shortly afterward, when Bill Jones came to bring a fresh supply ofprovisions and water, he reported that the _New York_ was taking oncoal.

  "The other ships are certain to need a supply, an' we're bound to comealongside the _Brooklyn_ sooner or later," he said, cheerily, andTeddy replied, with a sigh:

  "It seems like a terribly long while to wait; but I s'pose I can standit."

  "I reckon it's a case of havin' to, lad, unless you're willin' to takethe captain's medicine, an' that's what I wouldn't like to tackle."

  "It's as if I'd been here a full month, an' accordin' to what you sayI'm mighty lucky if I have to stay only two or three days more."

  "You're lucky if you get out in a week, so don't go to countin' theminutes, or time will be long in passin'."

  Twice during the next twenty-four hours did Teddy have an opportunityof speaking with his friend, and then he knew that the _Merrimac_ wasalongside the _Massachusetts_.

  "You see we're goin' the rounds of the fleet, an' it's only a questionof the coal holdin' out, to finally bring us to the _Brooklyn_," BillJones said, hurriedly, for there was no opportunity of lengthyconversations while the crew were engaged in transferring the fuel.

  Another long time of waiting, and Bill Jones appeared at the entranceto the hiding-place in a state of the greatest excitement.

  "Somethin's got to be done right away, lad, an' I'm clean beat as tohow we'll figger it out. This 'ere steamer is goin' to be sunk!"

  "Sunk!" Teddy cried in alarm, clutching Bill frantically by the arm,as if believing the _Merrimac_ was even then on the point of goingdown.

  "That's jest it, an' we're to be shifted to the other vessels, gettin'a berth wherever one can be found."

  "What will make her sink?"

  "She's to be blowed up! Wrecked in the harbour of Santiago de Cuba, sothe Spaniards who are inside can't get out!"

  Teddy looked around him in bewilderment and alarm, understanding notone word of the brief explanation.

 

  "You see the Spanish fleet is inside the harbour, and the mouth ofit ain't more'n three hundred feet wide. This steamer will be blowedup right across the channel, an' there the Spaniards are, bottled uptight till our fleet gets ready to knock 'em into splinters."

  "But what'll become of me? I'll have to face the captain after all!"

  "I reckon there's no help for it, lad, because it don't stand toreason that you want to go down with the ship."

  "How long before you'll sink her?"

  "_We_ sha'n't have anything to do with it, lad. It's what you mightcall a precious fine job, an' 'cordin' to the way everybody looks atit, them who do the work ain't likely to come back again."

  "Why not?"

  "Look here, lad, if you was goin' on deck an' set off three or fourtorpedoes under your very feet, what do you think would be the show ofgettin' ashore alive?"

  Teddy made no effort to weigh the chances; his own affairs were insuch a precarious condition that there was no room in his mind foranything else.

  "I'd better have gone to the captain when I first made up my mind thatit had to be done, an' it would be over by this time," he said, with along-drawn sigh.

  "It wouldn't have been over till you got ashore, because pretty nighevery sailor thinks it his bounden duty to make things lively for astowaway. You've saved yourself from bein' kicked an' thumped jest somany days as I've been coddlin' you up, an' there's a good deal inthat."

  "Are we anywhere near the _Brooklyn_?"

  "She was five or six miles away when I saw her last--"

  "Five or six miles!"

  "Yes; did you allow she laid within hail?"

  "I thought from what you said that we was right among the fleet."

  "So we are, lad; but these big ships don't huddle very close together,an' ten miles off is called bein' mighty near at hand. I can't stophere chinnin' much longer, so listen sharp. When the time comes, an'it's precious near at hand now, you'll have walk up to themedicine-box like a little man, so kind'er be bracin' yourself forwhat's sure to happen. I'll watch till the captain appears to be ingood humour, an' out you pop."

  Teddy nodded his head; there was too much sorrow and disappointment inhis heart to permit of speech, and Bill Jones was so pressed for timethat he failed to give due heed to the boy's mental condition.

  "Be ready when I come back next time!" the sailor whispered,warningly, and then ran on deck, leaving the stowaway in a mostunenviable frame of mind.

  When Teddy's mouth was parched with thirst, and his stomach cravingfor food, he had brought himself to believe that he could submitwithout a murmur to whatever punishment the captain might see fit toinflict; but now it seemed different. During a very long time he hadbeen cheering himself with the belief that before the close of thishour or the next he would be with his father, and such a sudden andstartling change in affairs caused him deepest despair.

  Crawling into the narrow hiding-place, he gave full sway to the griefwhich had come upon him like a torrent, for once Captain Miller knewof his having stowed away, so he argued to himself, there would nolonger be any hope of communicating with his father.

  To his mind he had not only failed in the purpose set himself, butwould be more widely separated from his father than ever before, andit is little wonder, with such belief in his heart, that the boyceased longer to battle against his sorrow.

  He was lying face downward upon the canvas when Bill Jones came toannounce that the moment had arrived when he should brave the ordealof facing Captain Miller, and the sailor was forced to speak severaltimes in a loud tone before the lad realised that his friend was nearat hand.

  "Come, Teddy," the little sailor said, soothingly, "it'll be overafter awhile, an' perhaps won't be so bad as we've figgered, for theold man ain't tearin' 'round dreadful mad. Let's get on deck in ahurry, so's not to think about it too long, an' I'll stand right byyour side till matters are settled one way or the other."

  "I might as well stay right here, an' be sunk when the steamer goesdown," the boy wailed.

  "Nonsense, lad; after havin' the pluck to come thus far in search ofyour father, you mustn't lose heart now. Be a man, Teddy, an' count onme for a friend so long as the trouble lasts."

  It was not possible for Bill Jones to arouse the boy to a proper showof courage until after fully half an hour had passed, and then the twocame out into the sunlight, both looking much as if having just beendetected in the most heinous of crimes.

 
The dazzling sunlight nearly blinded the boy, who had been shrouded indarkness so many days, and forced him to cover his eyes; therefore hefailed to see the look of surprise and bewilderment on Bill Jones'sface immediately they came on deck.

  During several moments he was in such a daze as to be virtuallyunconscious, and then he heard his companion ask:

  "Where is the _Merrimac's_ crew?"

  "They've been set aboard the _New York_ for a spell, seein's how thisain't likely to be a very pleasant craft to sail in after we getthrough with her," a strange voice replied, and Teddy opened his eyes.

  The deck of the collier appeared to be thronged with sailors in navalcostume, all of whom were apparently bent on doing the greatest amountof destruction in the shortest possible space of time.

  Not far away to windward was a huge war-vessel, looking more like somesubmarine monster than anything built by man, and in the distanceothers of the same kind, cruising to and fro, or lying quietly uponthe ocean, rising and falling with the heavy swell.

  All this picture Teddy took in with a single glance, and then hisattention was diverted by Bill Jones, who said to the sailor with whomhe had first spoken:

  "Ain't we to take our dunnage out?"

  "I reckon that'll be done after a spell; but just now it's a case ofhurry, an' what a few old shellbacks like you may consider dunnage,ain't taken into account."

  "Where is Captain Miller?"

  "I saw him goin' toward the flag-ship. It seems he's got the biggestkind of a bee in his bonnet because Lieutenant Hobson is to be giventhe chance of killin' himself an' his crew, when he claims the rightbecause of havin' been in command of this 'ere collier."

 

  Teddy was wholly at a loss to understand the meaning of theconversation, and he looked at the little sailor, who now appearedperplexed rather than jolly, until the latter said, speaking slowly,as if in a maze of bewilderment and doubt:

  "I'm all at sea, lad, about this 'ere business; but it begins to lookas if you wouldn't have any very hard time with the old man to-day.He's got somethin' else on his mind that's of more importance than aworthless little stowaway like you."

  "He'll come back, won't he?" Teddy asked, yet unable to gather anyclear idea of the situation.

  "Unless he comes soon, there won't be anything left of the _Merrimac_,an' that's a fact," Bill Jones replied, pointing here and there towhere a hundred men or more were busily at work, seemingly trying tomake a wreck of the collier. "I s'pose they're bent on gettin' out ofthe old hooker all that's of any value, before sinkin' her, an' itlooks as if they'd finish the job in a jiffy."

  "Where's the _Brooklyn_?"

  "See here, my son, we've no time to bother our heads about her justnow. It's enough for you that we can't get speech with your father,an' unless I'm way off my reckonin', here's the chance to pull out ofwhat promised to be a bad scrape for you."

  Teddy remained silent, for the very good reason that he was at a lossfor words, and after a short pause, Bill Jones exclaimed, as if ahappy thought had at that instant come into his mind:

  "Hark you, lad, our men have gone over to the _New York_, an' so longas we don't follow them it'll be plain sailin'. We'll watch ourchance, go aboard the nearest ship, so it ain't the admiral'sflag-ship, as bold as lions, an' it'll be believed that you belong toour crew. Unless Captain Miller shows himself, you'll be livin' onthe fat of the land."

  "But when he comes?"

  "We won't bother our heads about anything of the kind. It's enough forus to know you've slipped out of the smallest kind of a hole without ascratch, and we'll take all the enjoyment that comes our way, at UncleSam's expense."