CHAPTER XI
ANOTHER PASSENGER
For a moment Tom did not move from the position into which he hadfallen when he clambered aboard the derelict. He was exhausted, but,more than this, he was startled by the sound of the childish voice. Andyet, in an instant, he knew who had called his name.
"Is--is he here--little Jackie here?" Tom gasped.
"That's what he is, matie," answered one of the men. "I've been holdinghim ever since we picked him out of the wreck of a lifeboat, poorlittle chap. But I guess he'd rather come to you."
"Tom--Tom Fairfield I want you!" cried Jackie. "Where is my daddy?"
Tom felt a lump come into his throat, but he rose up and answered asbest he could.
"I--I'll take care of you now, Jackie," said Tom brokenly. "Daddy--I--Iguess your daddy is off somewhere in a boat, looking for you. He'llrow up in the morning, and won't he be surprised when he sees you hereahead of him? Oh, won't we have a grand joke on him, though!"
Jackie laughed--laughed amid that waste of waters on the wave-washedderelict.
"Oh, how nice, Tom!" he said. "I want you to hold me, and tell me abouthow daddy will be surprised."
"Poor little kid," murmured the sailor who held the little boy, as hepassed him over to Tom when a lightning flash came.
Tom was now getting his strength and wind back after his long swim. Hewas still soaking wet, but the rain had now ceased, and the wind waswarm. If the sea went down enough so that the waves would not wash upover the derelict they might all get dry. And then the morning wouldcome. But what would it bring?
Tom gathered Jackie in his arms, and the boy, with a contented sigh,snuggled up to our hero's shoulders.
"Now tell me about daddy," he commanded. "Tell me about the joke onhim."
Tom started to comply, forcing himself to make a joke out of what hefeared would be a grim discovery in the daylight. The boy's father wasprobably among those drowned when the ship foundered. But little Jackiemust not know it. So Tom made up a fanciful little story--telling itwhile the lightning flashed and the thunder rumbled, and while thederelict rose and fell on the long swells.
"Move back here, mate," said one of the sailors in a low voice. "It'shigher, and more out of the water."
He moved forward to make a place for Tom, and the lad noticed that theman took a position where he would be more exposed to the waves than atfirst.
"But you--" began Tom with an objection.
"Come on," ordered the man, half harshly. "You want to keep the kiddry; don't you?"
Then Tom understood, and with a grateful heart he moved up so thatJackie would not be so wet. The little fellow was breathing heavilynow, and Tom knew that he was asleep.
"Well, Tom Fairfield," remarked one of the sailors, "this is toughluck, isn't it?"
"Couldn't be much worse, and yet there's lots worse off then we are,"commented the other.
Tom looked at the sailors as the lightning flashed again. One heknew as Abe Fordam, and the other was Joe Weldon. They had been deckhelpers, cargo shifters--doing any of the many things required ona steamer, and hardly sailors proper, for there were no sails tomanipulate. Tom had made their acquaintance when he had requested themto pose for their pictures as they were coiling up an anchor chain oneday on deck.
"How did you happen to get aboard this derelict?" he asked, gettinginto as comfortable a position as possible with his little burden.
"It sort of--happened," replied Abe.
"We had lowered away the main lifeboat, with most of the passengersin it," added Joe, "right after the second crash came, and then therewasn't time to do much more. It was everyone for himself. Some of themen were cowards, too," he added contemptuously.
"That's what they were," growled Abe. "They swamped one boat by alltrying to crowd into her. Me and Joe here shifted for ourselves, andgot aboard a life-raft that we slid down the sloping deck. We werebetter off than most, too."
"But how did you get aboard this derelict?" asked Tom.
"Our raft hit it, after we'd been afloat some time, and I says to Joethat we'd better take to it, seeing as how it was bigger than the raft.So we transferred our keg of water to it, and what little grub we had,and climbed on."
"Then we found the boy," supplemented Joe.
"That's right, then we found the boy," agreed Abe. "I see somethingawash near the bow of this old craft, and I made a grab for it,thinking it might be more grub. But it wasn't. It was part of alifeboat, with some life preservers jammed under the thwart. I pulledit up, and there was this kid, sort of fastened by the life preserverstraps. At first I thought he was gone, but I listened close, and heardhis breathing.
"We got the water out of him, as best we could, and then he began tocry. He cried for his daddy something pitiful, and nobody knows wherehis daddy is," he added softly.
"Then he called for Tom Fairfield," added Joe.
"Yes," assented Abe, "he cried for you. And it seems sort ofProvidential-like that you should come swimming along. How did you doit, Tom?"
"It just happened. I rolled off the deck when the second crash came,and, when I came up I swam for it. I called for help as I saw alifeboat rowing away, but they didn't hear me. Then I swam until I gotthis life-ring, and then--well I saw the derelict and made for that."
"And it's a good thing you did," commented Joe. "For Abe nor I don'tknow the first thing about taking care of kids. I'm glad you come."
"So am I," grunted Abe.
"What sort of a craft are we on?" asked Tom.
"A derelict lumber ship, as near as I can make out," replied Abe. "Themkind floats longest and they're the very worst sort of derelicts fora ship to hit, for they're so heavy--almost solid, you might say. Thisis what the _Silver Star_ hit, I'm almost positive. First we hit hera light blow, and then we sort of fended off. The engines got out ofcommission, and something went wrong with the steering gear, I guess.Then we fetched up with another whack at it, and that finished us."
"That's it," agreed Joe. "But it ain't a bad sort of craft to float onwhen you've been wrecked. It's better than the life-raft."
"Will it float long?" asked Tom.
"As long as we need it--maybe longer," spoke Abe, and his voice wasrather gloomy.
"Have you any water, and enough food to--to last for some time?" askedTom.
"Not an awful lot," murmured Joe. "There's water enough for four days,maybe, if we don't take too much, and some tinned meat and biscuits inthe case we put on the raft. Why, are you hungry, Tom?"
"No, oh, no, not at all. I was just thinking ahead. There are four ofus, counting little Jackie."
"And he'll get his share, along with the rest of us, matie," said Abequickly. "It'll be share and share alike, until the last crumb and dropis gone."
"That's what," growled his companion.
"Are there any chances of us being picked up?" Tom inquired.
"Oh, yes, plenty of chances," answered Abe. "But you can't tell howlong it will be before that happens. Still we can't do anything butwait."
"Maybe one of the lifeboats will sight us," suggested our hero, as hemoved a bit so that Jackie would rest easier.
"Maybe, but hardly. They'll probably row toward the nearest land,"suggested Joe.
"And where might that be?" inquired Tom.
"Well, we were about three days from the Hawaiian Islands, at the ratewe were going in the _Silver Star_," went on Joe, "but in the storm Iguess we were pretty well blown out of our course. Probably now we'resome distance to the east of 'em now, and maybe below 'em, for all Ican tell. But if we can make a southwest course we're bound to fetch upat some island sooner or later, if we're not picked up by some vesselin the meanwhile."
"Oh, then we're not so badly off," commented Tom.
"It might be worse," agreed Joe. "Well, the storm's over, and it'llsoon be daylight I reckon."
The lightning had ceased, and the thunder was only distantly rumbling.It was quite dark, and the derelict drifted on with its passengersstaring moodily out
into the blackness--all but Jackie, who was inhappy dreamland.
"There's the sun," announced Joe, after a pause. He pointed to where afaint light showed in the east. It gradually grew until the red ball offire seemed to pop up from the ocean.
Jackie awoke, and sat up in Tom's arms.
"Did daddy come yet?" he asked.
"Not yet," replied our hero softly. "But he may--soon."
"And he'll be s'prised to see me here; won't he?"
"Yes, Jackie."
Tom looked at the craft on which he now was. As the sailors hadsurmised, it was a derelict lumber ship, and one end of it was well outof the water.
Tom was just wondering how they could improve their situation by makinga sort of shelter and platform from some of the lumber when Joe criedout:
"Look! Look over there! It's a boat, or part of one!"
They looked to where he pointed. There, drifting slowly toward them wasa wrecked lifeboat, one of those that had been carried on the _SilverStar_.
"If we can only get her, she may have food and water in," suggestedJoe. "I'm going to swim for it, and tow it in. I see a rope trailingfrom the bow."
Before they could object he had leaped off the derelict and wasswimming toward the boat as it rose and fell on the wash of the sea.Joe was strong, and a good swimmer, and soon he was aboard again withthe end of the line. By it they hauled in the boat.
"Anything in it?" asked Abe.
"I didn't stop to look. Just grabbed the line and turned back."
Now the boat was alongside. Tom looked into it and uttered a cry ofsurprise. It contained one passenger--a man, and it was the samemysterious man who had kept himself hidden in his stateroom aboard the_Silver Star_.
Tom Fairfield at Sea; or, The Wreck of the Silver Star Page 11
