Go Ahead Boys and the Racing Motorboat - Part 13
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Part 13

Fred retired to the c.o.c.kpit and stretched himself at full length upon the cushions of the seats. A ghastly, greenish pallor was upon his face and no proof was required that he was far from being happy.

John now took the wheel and did his utmost to hold the Black Growler to a steady course.

Occasionally the motor-boat was caught in the trough of the waves and the spray dashed over the boys. It was not long before every one was wet, Fred taking more than his full share of the water. He was, however, so miserable that he did not protest and even his friends now were silent as they devoted their efforts to holding the motor-boat steadily to her course.

All thoughts of luncheon were abandoned. Fred, of course, had pa.s.sed the stage where the thought of food brought any pleasure, while his companions were so busy that they too had forgotten that midday had arrived.

"You don't need to mind this too much," suggested John in his loudest tones. "I have seen the wind come up and then go down just as suddenly as it came. Perhaps that will be the way it will be to-day."

Whatever the thoughts in the minds of George and Grant were they did not express them. They were standing near the wheel eagerly looking before them.

Each boy was hopeful that a boat might be seen which would come to the aid of the unfortunate Black Growler. Several pa.s.sing steamers were seen low on the horizon, but it was impossible to attract the attention of any.

"I feel," said George at last breaking in upon the silence, "that we made a great mistake this morning when we didn't take the advice of that man in Oswego."

"What man? What was his advice?" asked Grant.

"Why the one who told us that we ought not to start out on Lake Ontario without taking some man along with us who knew the course and could help us if we got into a fix."

"I don't like such remarks at this time," said Grant. "I never want the man who says 'I told you so' to come around to me with his comfort."

"I didn't mean it that way," protested George.

"Of course you didn't, Pop, but we're boxed here as sure as you live.

There isn't any use in complaining or in spending our time wishing that we had done something else. Is the wind going down any?"

"Not a bit," spoke up John. "I think it's getting stronger if anything."

Meanwhile the little boat had been rolling and tossing, almost helpless in the trough of the waves. Poor Fred was stretched out at full length on the cushions and the ghastly expression of his face indicated that he at least was not suffering from any fear of the fate which might befall them. He had reached that stage in his sickness wherein he was completely indifferent to his surroundings.

Again and again the anxious boys did their utmost to discover the cause of the trouble. They were unable to find any serious defect with the machinery, however, and their anxiety steadily increased. Several times the motor-boat shipped water and once or twice she was thrown with such violence by the onrushing waves that it did not seem possible she could again right herself.

The boys were now far from land, for only a dim outline of the faraway sh.o.r.e could be seen. They had not taken the direct course to Cape Vincent. Although they might have saved time by doing so, it was considered safer to keep near the sh.o.r.e, although at no place were they within three miles of it.

Another hour elapsed and still the wind continued strong. The sun was shining brightly and the clouds scudding across the face of the sky only occasionally concealed its beams.

The supreme hope in the minds of all had been that their predicament would be discovered and that some one would come to their aid. The sh.o.r.e, however, was so far distant that it was vain to expect help from that direction and on the other hand most of the boats, whose courses were marked by trails of smoke, were so far away that it was almost impossible for them to discern the drifting motor-boat.

CHAPTER XI

RESCUED

No change occurred for another hour in the position in which the boys found themselves. Fred still was lying helpless on the cushions and the boys by taking turns or working together at the wheel had somehow, in spite of numerous moments of peril, been able to keep the Black Growler headed to the wind.

At that time George broke in upon the silence by saying excitedly, "Look yonder, fellows! Isn't that a boat coming this way?"

Instantly the eyes of all three turned in the direction in which George pointed. Far away a trail of smoke was visible and from the direction in which it was moving it was apparent that it had come from a boat which was coming nearer the place where the boys were drifting than had any boats since their mishap.

"I believe it's coming," exclaimed Grant. "We'll get some help pretty soon."

"Yes," broke in John, whose hands now were blistered and whose temper had suffered from his efforts. "Yes, she's probably bound for Liverpool and won't stop until she's gone across the ocean. A lot of good it will do us!"

"Don't take all the joy out of living, String," laughed George good-naturedly. "Maybe we shan't have any chance to be taken on board, but we'll do our best anyway."

Silence followed as the three boys eagerly watched the approaching boat, for there was no question in their minds now that the unknown steamer was approaching.

A few minutes later Grant said, looking through the field gla.s.ses at the approaching stranger, "That's a yacht of some kind, in my opinion."

As soon as he had spoken, his companions eagerly demanded an opportunity to confirm his statement.

"Soc is right," said John after a long inspection.

"Of course he is," said Grant lightly. "He always is right. How many times must I tell you that if you would only follow my advice you would soon be improving?"

"It's no time to joke," said John solemnly. "We've just got to make them take us on board or help us out of our trouble."

"We'll have to wait until they come nearer than they are now," said George. "Have we got a big white cloth that we can use as a signal?"

"I think there are some sheets down in the cabin," suggested Grant.

"Then I'll get them," said Grant quickly, as he disappeared from sight.

In a brief time he returned with two sheets in his arms. Handing one to Grant, while John was still busy at the wheel, George said excitedly, "Now we have got to stand up and let them know that we're here."

It was plain to the watching boys that the approaching boat was a yacht as Grant had suggested. Her graceful outlines now could be plainly seen and she was swiftly approaching.

"I'm wondering," suggested George thoughtfully, "if we are tossing around on the water the way she is. Just look at her," he added excitedly as the yacht in the distance pitched visibly in the rough water.

"Of course we are," said John, "only worse. A little boat like the Black Growler is not worth much more than an egg sh.e.l.l."

"Still I think I would rather be in the Black Growler," laughed George.

The spray continued to dash over the motor-boat and the little craft was roughly tossed by the pa.s.sing waves. Fred twice had rolled from his position on the cushions and fallen upon the floor. The a.s.sistance of his friends had been required to restore him to his former position.

His ghastly appearance by this time had aroused the sympathies of his companions and besides they were all three anxious for the safety of the boat as well as of themselves.

The sun was still shining brightly and there was life in the air as it swept across the great ma.s.s of fresh water. Steadily the Black Growler had been moving before the wind, which was blowing directly from the lake. As a result they were able to see more distinctly the outlines of the sh.o.r.e before them, which now was not more than two miles distant.

A few minutes had elapsed when George said excitedly, "Do you see what boat that is?"

His companions did not reply for a brief time and then Grant said quietly, "It's the Caledonia."

"Yes, I believe it is," joined in John.

"I know it is," said George. "We're sure now that we'll get some help."

"We may have our troubles," suggested Grant, "if the captain answers our hail, or he may pick us up and claim salvage."

"I guess there won't be anything like that," exclaimed George, who was greatly relieved by the sight of the approaching yacht. Her black sides glistened in the sunlight and her graceful outline now that she was near had never appeared to greater advantage.