"If Spikeley don't start the engine, I reckon it will not start itself,"

suggested Percy.

"I don't believe it will."

"What are you going to do, then?"

"I am going to start it myself."

"Start it yourself! You will blow the whole thing up!" exclaimed Percy, who did not see how the same young fellow of sixteen could know how to steer, and run the engine.

"I have been on board the Bellevite a great deal of the time for the last three years, and my mother says I was born a sailor, as my father was before me. I always took a deep interest in every thing connected with the steamer."

"I should think you might, on board of such a fine vessel as the Bellevite."

"I have stood my trick at the wheel for weeks together; and the quartermasters taught me all they knew about steering, the compa.s.s, the log, the lead, and the signals."

"Those things have nothing to do with the engine," suggested Percy.

"That is very true; but, when I had learned enough in the pilot-house, I went down into the engine and fire rooms. Mr. Vapoor, the chief engineer, and I were in the same school together; and, though he is six years older than I am, we have been cronies for four years."

"And he told you about the engine?"

"I made a regular study of the engine, in connection with physics, and Paul"--

"Paul? That's another fellow?"

"No: it's the same fellow,--Paul Vapoor. Everybody that knows him says he is a genius. He was my teacher. But he told me that all the theory in the world would not make me an engineer: I must have the experience; and for weeks together I took the place of one of the a.s.sistant engineers.

That's how I happen to know something about an engine; and I have been on board of all sorts of steamers with Paul, for the purpose of studying the engines, from a launch up to the biggest ocean-steamers."

"Did you take any lessons of the cook on board of the Bellevite, Christy?" asked Percy, laughing.

"I used to ask questions of him; but I have served as cook on board of a small yacht, and I know how to get up a chowder or bake a pot of beans."

"All right; then I will take it for granted that you can start the engine of the Leopard," continued Percy, coming back to the topic which interested him most. "What are you going to do after you have started the engine?"

"I am going to get on board of the Bellevite, and get you on board of her."

"That will suit me first rate," replied Percy. "But I don't want you to think I am a Yankee, for I am not."

"But I want you to think I am a Yankee, as you call it; and I am one,"

added Christy.

"After we get on board of the Bellevite, what do you suppose she will do?"

"That is more than I can tell you; but I have no doubt my father will try to get out of the bay, and then he will go to New York. It is about time to make a beginning, for the boat will not trouble us now," replied Christy, as he took a look all around the tug.

"What am I to do?"

"I haven't told you all I know about steering the boat for nothing, Percy, and you will remain at the wheel. But I wonder what that is over in the north-west," added Christy, as he took the gla.s.s from the shelf, and pointed it out the after window of the pilot-house.

"I think I can steer her all right now. What do you see over there?"

"I believe there is a steamer coming down from that direction," replied Christy anxiously, as he brought the gla.s.s to bear on the object in sight.

"A steamer!" exclaimed Percy. "That will mix things with us."

"Perhaps it will. It is a steamer, but it looks like a river boat, at any rate, it is not a tug. She is headed this way."

Christy was a good deal disturbed by the discovery he made; and giving no further attention to his companion, he continued to study the approaching craft, at the same time endeavoring to account for her appearance. His uncle Homer had gone to find some one who was to render a.s.sistance in preventing the Bellevite from leaving the bay, and becoming a part of the navy of the Union.

He had not succeeded in finding the person he sought, but he had had abundance of time to go to Mobile; and Christy feared that this steamer coming down from the north-west might be intended for the capture of the Bellevite, in which case she must be armed and provided with an ample force for the purpose.

"That is not a tug-boat: she is a river or a bay steamer, and I am afraid she is faster than this thing," said Christy, when he had obtained all the information he could at the present time. "At any rate, we have no time to spare. Do you think you can steer the Leopard, Percy?"

"I know I can," replied he confidently.

"The boat with the major in it is losing a good deal by lee-way, for he seems to be making no allowance for it."

"What does that mean?" asked Percy, puzzled by the statement.

"She has the wind on her beam, and she drifts to the north almost as much as she goes ahead. He ought to head her for some point to the southward of the Bellevite; but the more mistakes he makes, the better it will be for us."

"I see that he don't seem to be headed anywhere in particular."

"Now, Percy, I am going below to have it out with Spikeley," continued Christy, taking the revolver from his pocket, while he drew a box of cartridges from another. "The Bellevite drifts as well as the boat; but they don't let her go far to the north where the shoal water is, and they turn the screw enough to keep her pretty nearly in the same position."

"I am to steer for her, of course," added Percy.

"No: there is something that looks like buildings on the sh.o.r.e, at least five miles beyond the steamer. Do you see them?"

"I do."

"Run for them; and this course will carry you a considerable distance to the southward of the boat. I shall be near you all the time; and if you get bothered, sing out for me, and I will help you out."

"Don't you think I had better go below with you, so as to make a sure thing with the engineer?"

"I can handle him alone; or, if I find that I cannot, I will call for you. Now, look out very closely for your steering, and don't let her wobble any more than you can help."

Christy left the pilot-house, after he had put six cartridges into his revolver, and restored the weapon to his pocket. He had already made up his mind as to the manner in which he proposed to dispose of the engineer. He descended the ladder to the forecastle of the tug; but before he proceeded to the important task before him, he made a careful survey of the accommodations of the steamer, though she did not appear to be different from a score of similar vessels he had visited in making his studies.

Under the pilot-house was the galley, which was also the mess-room of the crew when she had any. Forward of this, and under the forward deck, was the forecastle, to which the inquirer descended. It was fitted up with bunks, and there was only one entrance to it, by a ladder from a scuttle in the deck.

The scuttle was the interesting point with him; and he saw that it was provided with a hasp and staple, so that the entrance could be secured by a padlock, though that was missing. Getting a piece of wood from the deck, he made a toggle that would fit the staple, and put the scuttle in a convenient place. Leaving the forward deck, he went aft, taking another look at the steamer in the north-west; but he could hardly see her with the naked eye, and he thought she must be at least five miles off.

"Where is your bunk, Mr. Spikeley?" asked Christy, as he went to the door of the engine-room.

"What's that to you, youngster?" demanded the engineer; and possibly it did not comport with his dignity to be bossed by a boy.