and pg distributed proofreaders [transcriber's note: the non-standard spellings of the original text have been retained in this etext.] by water to the columbian exposition by johanna s. wisthaler. 1894 "travel is the great source of true wisdom." --_bearensfield_ to my amiable traveling companions, mr. s.r. james and family, and miss sarah e. campbell, this volume is affectionately inscribed preface it has been the aim of the author: to combine a detailed narrative of her trip by water to the white city with a faithful description of the ever memorable columbian exposition as far as possible consistent with the scope of this work. every opportunity has been embraced by the writer to incorporate the historical events, scientific facts, and natural phenomena most appropriate to the subject. the author also acknowledges her indebtedness to the lake shore & michigan southern railway co. as well as her obligations to the winters art litho co. in chicago. she wishes to express her gratitude to the first-mentioned corporation for having presented her with a map illustrative of the route; thus enabling the reader to trace the numerous towns and cities--on the erie canal and three great lakes--whose history and attractions have been depicted in this book. the lake shore route--selected by the government to run the famous fast mail trains--is the only double track line between chicago, cleveland, buffalo, new york, and boston.--during the existence of the white city, the lake shore and michigan southern railway co. placed in service special trains for the purpose of facilitating railway transportation between the eastern cities and the "queen of the west." the "exposition flyer," which accomplished nearly 1,000 miles in twenty hours from chicago to new york, an average of about fifty miles per hour, was certainly one of the fastest trains in the world. to the aid of the winters art litho co. the author owes her capability of furnishing this volume with a novel illustration of the world's fair.--a gold medal was awarded to this firm for the excellence in their water color fac-simile reproductions and advancement in legitimate lithography. the credit of improvements in materially reducing the number of printings, and still maintaining excellence in results, was conceded to them by the judges.--this company kindly permitted the author to use their copyright of the revised and most correct bird's eye view of the exposition grounds extant, which gives the readers a very adequate conception of that marvelous creation that--while existing only for such a brief period--has accomplished its mission in the highest degree, and has opened a new era in the annals of modern progress. schenectady, n.y., december, 1893. contents introduction chapter i _voyage on the erie canal_ departure from schenectady, n y amsterdam, canajoharie, little falls utica, rome, syracuse, lyons palmyra, rochester, lockport chapter ii _sojourn in buffalo and visit to niagara falls_. buffalo harbor city of buffalo mill's dry dock niagara falls, american horseshoe and central falls chapter iii _voyage on three great lakes_ _lake erie_ dunkirk, erie, conneaut cleveland amherstburg detroit river city of detroit lake st clair river st clair port huron, sarnia _lake huron_ sand beach beacon saginaw bay, tawas city, alpena rock-bound on gull island ledge false presqu'ile, cheboygan straits of mackinaw, mackinaw island _lake michigan_ beaver island, northport frankfort, manistee, muskegon south haven, life saving service michigan city, white city chapter iv _stay in chicago and visit to the world's fair_ _a round trip on the exposition grounds_ _visit to the midway plaisance_ diamond match co, workingmen's home congress of beauty, california nursery and citrus tree exhibit electric scenic theater, libbey glass works irish village and donegal castle, japanese bazaar javanese village, german village pompeii panorama. persian theater model of the eiffel tower, street in cairo algerian and tunisian village, kilauea panorama american indian village, chinese village wild east show, lapland village dahomey village, austrian village ferris wheel, ice railway cathedral of st. peter in miniature, moorish palace turkish village, panorama of the bernese alps south sea islanders' village. hagenbeck's zoological arena irish village and blarney castle, etc. _visit to the exposition structures_. manufactures building and on manufactures u.s. government building and on the development of the republic fisheries building and on fisheries agricultural building and on agriculture live stock exhibit, dairy and forestry buildings palace of mechanical arts and on machinery administration building electricity building and on electricity, the "golden or happy age" mines and mining building and on minerals transportation building and on railroad, marine, and ordinary road vehicle conveyances palace of horticulture and on horticulture liberal arts building. educational exhibits _chicago, its growth and importance_ woman's building and on women art palace and on art anthropological building foreign and state buildings financial account of the world's fair statistical table of international expositions conclusion introduction experience, this greatest of all teachers, will undoubtedly have convinced many of my readers that the most delightful voyage is only capable of maintaining its charms when made amidst congenial fellow-travelers. the grandest scenes can be fully enjoyed and duly appreciated when viewed through an atmosphere of physical comfort. thus, in order to demonstrate the accuracy of the assertion: voyaging with mr. james and his family was attractive and enjoyable to me in every respect, i must make the reader acquainted with my amiable traveling companions, as well as with their floating home, the beautiful steam yacht "marguerite." her owner, _captain s. r. james_, is a stately, fine-looking, accomplished gentleman, and quite a linguist. to me it was a source of unusual pleasure to discuss french and german literature occasionally during our voyage with one who has given so much attention to these languages. mr. james was styled by the buffalo courier "a typical new yorker;" but he impresses me more as a typified english gentleman of the thorough school, and this impression is confirmed as i reflect upon his conduct to those fortunate enough to be associated with him in any capacity. i trust the reader will pardon me if i warmly eulogize mr. james, his lovely wife and their four sweet children, together with miss sarah e. campbell, the very amiable sister of mrs. james--who were my traveling companions on this eventful trip; for, certainly, i was extremely fortunate in my _compagnons de voyage_, whom i have thus introduced to the reader. they abandoned their lovely home for the purpose of undertaking the gigantic enterprise of making a canal and lake voyage to the white city. the reader may well judge that sailing on a yacht presents innumerable novelties and advantages not attainable by any other conveyance. since the parties on board a pleasure-boat concentrate all their thoughts to the expected enjoyments they cast aside all irksome forms and strait-laced habitudes, delivering themselves up to the free air to live less conventionally than at home. the preferableness of such an existence, freed from all unnecessary ceremonies, is still more perceptible when the trip is of long duration and having, moreover, for its terminus the world's columbian exposition, a place where the wonders, beauties, and evidences of nature's power and man's skill are gathered from all lands. the great anticipations we had of our unique voyage were justified in every respect. for it offered us the opportunity to store our memories with that which will never die, and to adorn them with pictures whose colors will never fade. all this will be revealed subsequently to my courteous reader, who is cordially invited to follow me now on board the steam yacht, which formed our home for six eventful weeks. what first strikes the observer on approaching the "marguerite," are the graceful lines which run from the sharp, slightly bent stem to the well-rounded stern. so beautiful is her form, and so majestically does she rest upon the water, that you will have no difficulty to recognize her, even at a great distance. you observe that she is painted with taste, and all the mouldings are gilded; you also perceive that the railings are of oak wood, surmounted by finely polished brass, and the deck of narrow deal planks is as white as snow. there is nothing wanting to make her equipment harmonize with the requirements of the present era. she has a length of a hundred feet, a width of about fifteen, with a draught of five feet eight inches; being fitted out for both steam and sail navigation. now, dear reader, let us go below. if you consent, we will first visit the engine-room, since it contains the most essential part of the working machinery. a force of from eighty-five to ninety horse-power is developed to propel the boat. the engine is of the triple expansion type; the diameters of the cylinders being 6-1/2, 10 and 16 inches respectively. are you not pleased with this piece of machinery, so elegantly finished and neatly polished? from it you can conclude that the yacht is capable of running with considerable speed, amounting to thirteen miles an hour, if desired. let us descend to the cabin next; can anything be more tasteful and convenient? is it not luxurious? and, although small, does not its very limited space astonish you when you view so many comforts? this is the dining-room. what can be more complete! just look at this side-board, with its sumptuous outfit in silver and crystal. _a multum in parvo._ the kitchen is admirably arranged; the spacious refrigerator making it possible that a considerable amount of all sorts of provisions and delicacies can be kept on board for some time. let us peep into the cozy staterooms. are they not nicely furnished? glance at the large and comfortable berths, which can be extended so as to form double berths, as in a pullman car. all the rooms receive light, either through side-windows or from the upper deck. every facility for enjoying open air exercise is offered by the main deck running the whole length of the ship. the portion pertaining to the stern is especially commodious, and constituted our dining-room on pleasant days. even when the weather was unfavorable, the awnings which inclosed this delightful place formed an excellent shelter, giving the impression we were living in a large tent. thus, you observe, that nothing is omitted to secure comfort. do you see this electric bell? well, all the staterooms are provided with such bells, which are connected with the steward's pantry. now, let us go forward. these two doors form the entrance to the pilot-house; please, step in. here is the steering wheel, and by means of these brass tubes the steersman communicates with the engineer. look up to the ceiling. it is decorated with multitudinous charts and maps. before we leave this room do not forget to glance at the mariner's compass in its elegant brass case. close by is the entrance to the fore-castle, which contains the men's berths. the crew occupying them consists of the captain, the engineer, the cook, the steward, and the seamen. there not being accommodation for more female servants, mrs. james was attended by only one maid. she, however, could easily spare larger retinue, because this excellent girl has assisted her mistress in performing the manifold domestic duties for more than fourteen years, and during this long period mrs. james has learned to value her for her dexterity in all female occupations. she is also a faithful guardian of the children for whom she tenderly cares. flattering myself that i have given my kind readers a satisfactory, introductory description, i shall now advance with the narrative, and proceed on our journey, traversing the longest artificial waterway ever constructed by human hands; and sailing on the unsteady billows of the great lakes, which contain the largest amount of sweet water on the globe, in order to visit the world's fair, the grandest and most complete exposition that human eyes ever beheld. chapter i. voyage on the erie canal from july 22nd, 10.40 a.m., till july 29th, 1.30 p.m. finally, the 22nd of july, the day appointed for our departure, had arrived. great was my satisfaction to find the auspices predicting fine weather; and, indeed, it was as beautiful as if heaven smiled on our enterprise. when taking leave of my neighbors, it was not at all with a sad sentiment, for i had been well aware that i was going to undertake a trip which but few mortals are so fortunate as to participate. accompanied by my dear parents i went to dock street, where the "marguerite" lay all ready for leaving the flourishing city of schenectady. my mother, whose domestic duties recalled her to the hearth at home, was compelled to leave me, while my father remained on board the yacht, anxious to enjoy my company as long as circumstances would permit. therefore, he gladly accepted mr. james's kind invitation to accompany us on our journey for a short distance. three intimate friends of mr. james and his family were also invited guests on the boat. these temporary traveling companions were dr. a. veeder, lawyer charles hastings and congressman s.j. schermerhorn, three well known and highly estimated gentlemen from schenectady. at 11.40 a.m., mr. james gave orders to haul in the lines attaching the boat to the shore; and a gun-shot at departing announced to the numerous spectators that the "marguerite" was on the point to set out for her unusual, but most interesting trip. we had been sailing only a very short distance, and were just facing the buildings of the general electric company, when our attention was attracted by a photographer who seemed to be very desirous of taking a photo of the yacht and her passengers; for he aspired to gain the most favorable posture, apparently quite a task under the circumstances. how well he succeeded in his endeavors, the readers can judge for themselves by glancing at the frontispiece of this book. resuming our journey, we soon had opportunity to admire the beautiful and fertile mohawk valley, once the home of one of the tribes composing the five nations. arendt van curler, the noble founder of the "place beyond the pines," pronounced this picturesque region the most beautiful the eye of man had ever beheld, at a time when the country was yet in its infancy. though great changes have taken place since that remote date (1642), the grandeur of the scenes spread before us evidently showed that the country has lost little of its beauty, even at the present day, nothwithstanding the white man has established in many places his smoking factories and noisy looms. at the second lock mr. schermerhorn, who owns a beautiful residence near this place, in the township of rotterdam, joined our party, whereupon we continued sailing on the smooth surface of the canal with accelerated speed. at 2.40 p.m., after having passed five locks, we approached _amsterdam_, an enterprising and prosperous city of over 20,000 inhabitants, located in the midst of romantic scenery. we halted at port jackson for a few minutes, since this was the terminus of the voyage of mr. hastings and my father. when parting with me, my father said: "this short tour has sufficed me to perceive how delightful your voyage promises to be in company with this amiable family. thus i leave you, feeling very happy that so many pleasures and enjoyments are awaiting you." i answered his kind words with a hearty parting kiss, as a token of my filial love. the two gentlemen, after having abandoned the yacht, ascended the bridge that spans the canal at that point; and bidding us farewell once more, they pursued us with their eyes until the graceful lines of the "marguerite" had become invisible in the distance. continuing our voyage, i was in perfect rapture with the ever varying magnificence of the luxuriant mohawk valley. in the afternoon the sky became overcast and the quietude that had been prevailing was interrupted by a thunder-clap, which gave us the signal to prepare for a shower. after the expiration of a few minutes the full-charged clouds poured their deluge upon mother earth. this natural phenomenon, however, was only of short duration; but sufficient to render the atmosphere most delightfully pure and refreshing. it was now a redoubled pleasure to view the many hills and dales, adorned in every shade of verdure, varying with romantic forest scenes; all mingling into one inexpressibly rich garniture in which nature had royally clad herself in order to give us greeting on our way. as we reached fultonville, a suburban village of fonda, about twenty-six miles from schenectady, dr. veeder and congressman schermerhorn parted with us, wishing us a pleasurable voyage. the "marguerite," gliding along, neared the vicinity of sprakers when suddenly the "heaven grew black again with the storm-cloud's frown," and a flash of lightning illuminated the sky with crimson radiance. it is for a moment as if the horizon was in flames, a spectacle glorious to behold. another minute and a peal of thunder reaches our ears. then the dark, heavy clouds discharge their contents in copious abundance. "in grateful silence earth receives the general blessing: fresh and fair each flower expands its little leaves as glad the common joy to share." while it is still raining, "the sun breaks forth, from off the scene its floating veil of mist is flung. and all the wilderness of green with trembling drops of light is hung." a magnificent rainbow, spanning the boundless arch on high, embellishes this superb panorama. as the sunset was bathing all summits in soft, crimson light, and the pale lustre of the orbed moon appeared in the east, we arrived at _canajoharie_. this small town, noted for its fine stone quarries, was chosen for our abode over sunday, and busy hands carried out the order to safely moor our craft near the bridge pertaining to the main street. when taking a long walk about the town, i found that, although inferior in size, it is a very desirable place for summer residences; being beautifully situated on romantic slopes crowned with elegant and tasty villas. canajoharie is regularly and appropriately laid out with wide, well kept and adequately lighted thoroughfares, and many citizens reside in spacious and architecturally ornamented houses. it is a recognized center of trade, from which agricultural products of all kinds are shipped. in the first historic record, dated 1757, the place was styled "fort cannatchocary," and mentioned as a prospering settlement. incorporated as a town in 1788, its population has been rapidly increasing since then, and now is estimated to amount to more than 3,000. it was a glorious morning, the 24th of july, as we left canajoharie. the sun rose up into a cloudless heaven and poured a flood of gorgeous splendor over the landscape, as if proud of the realm he shone upon. when i entered the pilot-house i found mr. james, in the absence of the captain, busy steering the yacht, and in the course of our long voyage i often had opportunity to admire his abilities as a navigator. on many occasions i observed that he was very cautious in all his proceedings; that he took nothing for granted, and was only convinced of a fact when properly certified by ocular demonstration. engaged in a french conversation with the dexterous commodore, the time, as well as the vessel, was rapidly gliding along; the latter being assisted by a little breeze that rippled the surface of the water. so, after a three miles' ride, we approached _fort plain_, which boasts of numerous factories, and also the largest spring and axle works of the world. the clinton liberal institute, one of the leading military schools of the state, occupies a commanding position, overlooking the valley. the site of old fort plain, of revolutionary memory, is within the village limits. having passed cox and mindenville, a route of nine miles brought us into the proximity of the busy town of _little falls_, which has a population of about 10,000. it is romantically situated, and many elegant dwellings stand upon steep acclivities, commanding views of grand and attractive sceneries. the chief products of the numerous manufactories are knit goods. little falls is also one of the principal cheese markets of the empire state. the mohawk river supplies the place with abundant water-power, having at this point a fall of forty-five feet in half a mile. still proceeding on our voyage, the town was soon out of sight. the sun shone with the clearest splendor from the zenith, beautifully illumining the smiling valleys, wooded hills, sparkling brooks and dimpled lakes, which makes this landscape scene so attractive. we were unable to leave our seats on the stern-deck; for everything around us seemed to have assumed the character of enchantment, and--had i been educated in the grecian mythology--i should scarcely have been surprised to find an assemblage of dryads, naiads and oreads sporting on the plain beside us. after having viewed mohawk, eight miles from little falls; herkimer, a town of about 5,000 inhabitants; ilion, with a population of nearly the same number, and frankfort, four miles from utica, we reached the latter city as "the sunset gorgeous dyes, paled slowly from the skies," having achieved forty-two miles that day. _utica_ contains approximately 47,000 residents. at the time of the revolution it was a frontier trading-post and the site of fort schuyler, built to guard the settlements against the french and indians. we made arrangements to remain in this city over night. a long walk through utica made us acquainted with a regular and handsomely built city, which rises from the south bank of the mohawk river to an elevation of 150 feet. among the stately buildings are six large hotels, the handsome city hall, the postoffice and the bank edifice. there is also a state lunatic asylum. utica, being in the center of a great dairy region, has become the most important cheese market in the united states. genesee street is the principal thoroughfare lined with large blocks of commercial houses. the city has not yet attained its centennial; but during its history of less than a century it has experienced a wonderful growth, especially during the last fifty years. at 7 o'clock the next morning we resumed our voyage, sailing on the so-called sixty mile level; having thus the delightful prospect not to be detained by going through numerous locks. we were also _in limine_ of the far-famed lake region, and soon traversed one of the finest portions of new york state. passing the hamlets of york mills, whitesboro and oriskany, the "marguerite" advanced near to the city of _rome_ towards 10 o'clock a.m. in its vicinity the famous battle of oriskany was fought; and fort stanwix, which was besieged by the british in 1777, occupies a site now in the center of the city of rome. the latter is laid out with wide streets well shaded with maples and elms. in the resident portion, a very high artistic taste has been displayed in the erection of dwelling houses. although this thriving city of almost 16,000 inhabitants has not so many points of interest as its namesake, the ancient metropolis of the glorious roman empire, whose wealth of antiquities is perfectly marvelous and whose relics of classical and papal times are alike almost innumerable; still it possesses one interesting feature that ought not to be left unmentioned: it was here that cheese was first made in factories. other important manufactures are merchantable iron, brass and copper, locomotives and agricultural implements. greatly favored by the clemency of the weather, we sped through this beautiful region, which is a never ending source of interest to the tourist, sailing past new london, grove springs, higginsville, dunbarton, state bridge, durhamville, lenox basin, canastota, new boston, chittenango, bolivar, pool's brook, kirkville, manlius and lodi. at the latter place the bed of the canal suddenly widens considerably, being about twice its average width. entering that portion of the grand artificial waterway, we found its waters so shallow that we could plainly discern its rocky bed. we entered the city of _syracuse_ when the last streak of daylight had faded from the west and the blush on the waters was followed by the reflection of the far blue arch and its starry host. opposite the city hall, a magnificent structure, the "marguerite" was made fast to repose after a fifty-five miles' course that day. syracuse, situated in the heart of new york state, has been appropriately named the "central city." its wonderful growth for the past twenty years entitles it to rank amongst the foremost cities of the east. it has a population of nearly 100,000, and is one of the leading manufacturing towns of the country. for a long period syracuse practically controlled the salt product of the united states; in fact, it was that which first gave the place its importance. the existence of the vast salt springs of onondaga was known to the indians at an early date, and the secret was by them imparted to the jesuits in 1654. the state took possession of the springs in 1794; and laws were passed for the conduct of the manufacture. although numerous companies are now engaged in this industry, it constitutes a comparatively small factor in the commercial interests of the city, inasmuch as it possesses at the present time over five hundred industrial establishments; giving employment to not less than twenty thousand people. the city is handsomely laid out, containing many fine public buildings and private residences. when i came on deck the following morning the rain fell in heavy showers. a cloud appeared to open directly over our heads, and let down the water almost in one body, but at 7.15, as the violence of the rainfall had somewhat abated, we departed from syracuse, sailing past geddes, bell'isle and canton, where we struck another shallow place in the canal. as we approached peru the mists were rolling away, which gradually, as they became thinner, received and transmitted the rays of the sun; illuminating them with a golden radiance, increasing every minute in splendor, until they vanished. therefore, it was a redoubled pleasure to glance at the green plains studded with yet greener woodlands; the little mountains raising their crests, and the lovely lakes gleaming like floods of molten silver. thus we journeyed along past weedsport, centerport, port byron, montezuma, pitt lock, clyde and lock berlin. nearly midway between syracuse and rochester, forty-nine miles from the former city, we halted, choosing _lyons_ for our night's lodging. the town, having a population of almost 6,000, is the seat of wayne county, which produces more dried fruit than any other county in the state. the oil of peppermint forms an important product of manufacture, there being a score of peppermint distilleries yielding annually more than 100,000 pounds of this costly oil. thursday, the 27th of july, as the tints of a bright morning reddened the eastern sky, we pursued our journey, greatly delighted with the cool and refreshing atmosphere. speeding along we passed arcadia; newark, a thriving town, numbering about 4,000 inhabitants; and palmyra, seven miles beyond, with broad and well shaded streets. two miles south of _palmyra_ joe smith, the founder of mormonism, claimed to have dug from a hill, which now bears the name of mormon hill, the golden plates constituting the first mormon bible. sailing by the villages of lower and upper macedon, pittsford was reached; a beautiful town of more than 3,000 inhabitants and one of the oldest settlements in that part of the state. here is located the famous "pittsford farm," which is one of the finest stock farms in the east. it is at this place that shetland ponies, jersey cattle and angora cats are raised in great numbers. uncountable varieties of water-fowl can always be seen at this point. having passed brighton, we arrived at _rochester_ long ere the first gold dye of sunset was stealing into the vast blue arch on high, having traveled forty-two miles that day. near the center of the city destined for our nightly abode, a multitude of curious spectators had assembled in order to view the handsome yacht. i made the observation that during our entire voyage the "marguerite," wherever she made her appearance, was universally admired. the important city of rochester is situated on the genesee river, seven miles south of its entrance into lake ontario. it is one of the leading manufacturing cities of the country, having more than 150,000 inhabitants. in 1802 it was founded by colonel nathaniel rochester, a representative pioneer of the genesee river valley. in 1834 it received its charter as a city, and has since increased in population and importance with marvelous rapidity. the fertility of the surrounding country and the splendid water-power furnished by the genesee river, together with unexcelled transportation facilities, have contributed largely to its growth. both in the latter part of the afternoon and evening, we deserted the yacht for the purpose of admiring the various beauties and points of interest, which give this town such a far spread reputation. we received the conviction that rochester, in fact, deserves its fame. covering an area of about seventeen square miles, it is laid out chiefly in squares, with streets from sixty to one hundred feet wide, shaded by beautiful trees. it abounds in handsome and tasteful residences, which are for the most part surrounded by carefully tended lawns and gardens. its fire-proof office buildings and warehouses, are a credit to the city; only few, even in the metropolis, are equal to them in magnificence. in the center of the city are the upper falls of the genesee, a perpendicular cataract of ninety-six feet, over which sam patch made his last and fatal leap. to the prominent public institutions of rochester belong the state industrial school, two large hospitals, an institution for deaf-mutes, and charitable organizations of every description. the principal business thoroughfare, main street, is in the heart of the city, and crosses the river over a handsome iron bridge. the manufactures of rochester are extensive and varied. in early years flour was the chief product, giving it the title "flour city;" there being no less than eighteen mills within its limits. rochester might be also appropriately styled the "flower city," for its nursery trade is hardly surpassed by that of any other place in the world. the suburbs are highly cultivated, having 4,000 acres of fruit trees, and nurseries containing from 250 to 500 acres. other important industries are cotton and paper mills; oil refineries; boot and shoe, clothing, furniture, perfumery and tobacco manufactories. a feature that attracts thousands of visitors daily, is the great powers art gallery, the private property of mr. d.w. powers, occupying the greater part of the two upper floors pertaining to the powers building. in fact, a plentitude of resources makes the city interesting to the tourist. the next day, when "morn was blushing in the sky," we bade farewell to rochester; and, sailing on the other sixty-mile level, we continued our journey through a charming region past greece, spencerport, king & adams, cooley's basin, and arrived at the attractive village of brockport. beautifully situated in the midst of a country teeming with abundance and inhabited by a prosperous and contented population, it contains many features of interest. here is located a state normal school, and also several extensive manufactories of agricultural implements. passing holley, hulberton and hindsburg, we came to albion, the capital of orleans county. the latter village is nicely laid out with wide streets and shaded by large trees. it contains many handsome residences and public buildings. having proceeded more westward, beyond eagle harbor and knowlesville, we caught sight of the pleasant town of medina, about midway between rochester and buffalo, noted for its quarries of dark-red sandstone. located in the midst of a fine fruit country, it has the reputation of being one of the best fruit markets in the state. speeding through the thriving villages of middleport, reynall's basin and cataract springs, we neared a deep ravine, through which the erie canal passes, following a natural waterway. here we met the most remarkable drop of the canal, in its chain of five continuous double locks, resembling a flight of stairs. entering these, the "marguerite" gradually rose higher and higher; and when quitting the last of them, she had been lifted up to an elevation of sixty feet by these five locks, and if we had not observed the busy hands working for our ascent, we might have been inclined to imagine that an invisible cloud was slowly carrying us to unknown regions on high. we made _lockport_ our resting-place for the night; since the sun had wheeled his broad disk already down into the west and the heavens were brightened only by the parting smiles of the day. going on shore, we visited lockport, a prosperous city with about 20,000 inhabitants, which is the center of a large paper and pulp industry. a five hours' journey on saturday morning, july 29th, past pendleton, picardsville, martinsville, tonawanda and lower black rock, completed our charming trip on the erie canal, which has from schenectady to buffalo a length of 323 miles. the construction of this great artificial waterway, in all nearly 350 miles long, having an elevation of about 500 feet above tide water, made by seventy-two locks, was commenced in 1817, and its completion took place in 1825. although this immense undertaking has caused an expense of $50,000,000, the state of new york has made an excellent investment with that sum of money; since by means of the erie canal the domestic trade between the large western inland towns and the eastern seaports, especially the metropolis, is considerably facilitated. this traffic will receive a still greater importance, and can be more advantageously carried on, when the plan of utilizing the electric current for the driving power of canal-boats--a project recently tested by experiments--has been successfully executed. prior to 1857, this waterway was used for both trade and passenger transportation. since the introduction of railroad communication, however, the canal has been the medium of conveying merchandise only; wherefore, our interesting trip on the steam-yacht "marguerite" is one of a few exceptions to the ordinary routine of the erie canal. chapter ii. sojourn in buffalo and visit to niagara falls, from july 29th, 1.30 p.m., to august 2nd, 7 a.m. it was a bright and sunny day; the atmosphere being purified by a strong but refreshing breeze. as the noonday sun poured his brilliant rays on the towering hills which adorn the luxuriant banks of the canal, it was announced that in the distance there could be discerned the dark line which indicated our approach to the verdant tract encompassing the thriving city of _buffalo_, the terminus of our voyage on the erie canal. while the boat was speeding along, this point upon which our attention was chiefly fixed, became more cognizable with every minute. rising upwards to our left we could perceive domes of the most graceful proportions, towering structures, for number and form beyond my power to describe. on the other side, there lay spread before us, in vast expanse, the unrivaled water front which skirts the city of buffalo, extending two and one-half miles along the shore of lake erie and two and one-half miles along niagara river. as we entered the harbor of buffalo, which is considered the largest and finest on the lake, we were soon made acquainted with scenes and incidents that have no common fascination; in fact, one must be surprised at the tremendous amount of activity displayed here. the scores of huge grain elevators, having a total capacity of 8,000,000 bushels, and the mammoth warehouses lining the water fronts reminded one of new york and brooklyn. large steamers and sailing vessels, of every description, are being loaded and discharged; powerful steam-hoists in operation on the docks; immense quantities of freight and merchandise in process of transfer to and from the railroad cars; and bustle everywhere; while hundreds of pleasure-boats and small crafts, of every conceivable variety, may be seen as far as the eye can reach. there we saw the trim and dainty shell, with its arrow-like prow, darting through the quiet coves; the saucy catamaran shooting, half submerged, out before the wind; the cozy little steam-launches, all ready to take their passengers to some suburban pleasure-ground; excursion steamers, with flying banners and bands of music going and coming, and mammoth propellers destined to carry thousands of tourists to the el dorado on lake michigan's blue waters. it will not be difficult to understand why buffalo has attained commercial supremacy in western new york, if you add to this never ceasing activity, betokening business, the enormous canal traffic; for it is here where innumerable canal-boats are weighted with the rich products of the west, carrying a large floating population of boatmen's families. before selecting our mooring place in buffalo creek, which can be navigated for about one mile, we sailed to the breakwater, a solid wall several feet high, having a length of 4,000 feet, which was erected at the expense of some millions of dollars for the protection of the city from being flooded by the unruly waters of lake erie. while the tanks of the yacht were being filled with the limpid water of the lake, we ascended the stairs leading to the top of the protecting wall; for we all were anxious to become acquainted with the nature of the billows that were to carry us many miles westward and nearer to our far destination. it was a glorious sight unfolded before our eyes. we glanced at a huge sheet of water, about 268 miles long, varying from thirty to nearly sixty miles in width, with an area of 9600 square miles, whose elevation from tide water is judged to be 564 feet. this majestic spectacle, as animated as it was, imparted to us an adequate conception of a boisterous inland sea. the surface of the lake was in wild uproar; the advancing and retreating waves were beating themselves into angry foam, and dashed their spray pearls almost to our feet; their opulent azure hue being dimmed by the violent agitation. the inexperienced eye has no idea of the imposing impression caused by the extremely subitaneous changes to which these waters are subjected. the wide bosom of the lake that sometimes lies motionless and glassy, without a breath of air to cause the slightest undulation, in a very short time may be scourged by a sudden gale. the wild gambols of the waves, accompanied by the roar of the disturbed elements, may well cause the timid to fear; for, as the swell lifts, you would think the bases of the earth are rising beneath it; and, again, when it falls, you would imagine the foundation of the deep had given away. though the billows before us now were beaten by a powerful breeze, breaking with angry roar upon the barrier upon which we stood, yet not the slightest feeling of fear found place within our hearts. on the contrary, as we left the breakwater in order to return to buffalo, i felt my heart palpitating with joy as i thought of the pleasing prospect to be tossed by those grand waves. having chosen a place at the foot of main street for our stay, the orders to secure the "marguerite" were instantly carried out; and immediately a multitude of curious beholders had gathered around the yacht, viewing her with evident expression of admiration. since it was yet early in the afternoon we decided to go on shore, in order to view the points of interest in this important city. a ride in the electric railway, traversing it in every direction, made us acquainted with a good portion of buffalo, which contains a population of nearly 300,000, being the third city in size in the empire state. it is handsomely laid out with broad and well shaded streets. one hundred and three miles are paved with asphalt, and 133 miles with stone. we saw many fine residences with attractive grounds, and numerous public squares. delaware avenue, the leading street for elegant mansions, is about three miles long, and is lined with a double row of trees. the city possesses a superb system of parks and pleasure grounds, designed and laid out by frederick law olmsted, the architect of central park in new york city. it comprises three sections, situated respectively in the northern, western, and eastern parts of buffalo, which, with the connecting boulevard, afford a drive of nearly ten miles. main street, the principal trading thoroughfare, has many substantial business blocks. of the prominent public buildings, the city and county hall deserves being mentioned in the first place. it is an imposing structure, of maine granite, in the form of a double roman cross, with a tower 245 feet high, surmounted by four statues. this magnificent edifice is fronting on franklin street, and was completed in 1880 at a cost of nearly $1,500,000. other handsome buildings are the u.s. custom house and postoffice, at the corner of washington and seneca streets; the buffalo library, on lafayette square; the state arsenal, in broadway; the erie county penitentiary, one of the six penal establishments of new york; the general hospital, in high street; and the state asylum for the insane, an edifice which cost about $3,000,000, located in forest avenue, adjoining the buffalo park. the city is also adorned with several handsome churches and theaters. buffalo was first settled by the dutch in 1801, and became an important military post during the war of 1812. it was burned by a combined force of british and indians in 1814. its city charter was granted in 1832, and since then its growth has been very rapid. as regards its live-stock trade, buffalo ranks third among the cities in the union, and its iron and steel works are next in importance to those of pittsburg. the shipment of pennsylvania coal, which finds a depot here, has been greatly increased in recent years; about 1,500,000 tons being distributed annually. the lumber trade is also large, but has been partly diverted to tonawanda, ten miles below buffalo. the industrial works comprise four blast furnaces, large rolling mills, machine shops, car shops, iron ship-yards, stove foundries, tanneries, flour mills, and manufacturing of agricultural implements. early on monday morning, i abandoned the land of dreams in order to appear on deck in good season; since arrangements had been made for going into dry-dock that very morning. reader, have you ever been there? i hear you answer negatively. well, that is just what i expected; for it is a rather unusual and rare experience for ladies, even in the eyes of a shipwright, a man who is constantly employed in that place, that a boat enters the dry-dock with her passengers on board. it was partly a matter of necessity, and partly of circumspection, that caused us to abide in the dry-dock for a few hours. in consequence of the numerous low bridges that span the canal, the spars, rigging, and smoke-stack belonging to the complete equipment of the "marguerite" would have made her journey on that artificial waterway absolutely impossible; therefore it was necessary to replace these parts in their appropriate positions. the picture in the frontispiece gives evidence of that fact; as the "marguerite" presented a very different picture completely rigged. now, on the point of sailing on the great lakes, it was requisite to dress the yacht in her proper array, with her high tapering masts; the cords of her rigging stretching from spar to spar with the beautiful accuracy of a picture; and so equipped, as to give her the appearance of a majestic, white winged sea-bird resting gracefully on the water. for the purpose of bestowing upon her such an outfit, as well as for having her bottom examined, she was docked in mill's dry-dock. the latter motive, i must add, was effected by a mere act of precaution; since no components of the propelling machinery had been injured or damaged. but mr. james, our ever thoughtful commodore, wished to be assured that he could direct the "marguerite" on her westward course with everything pertaining to her in complete order. these docks may be in communication either with a wet dock or a tidal harbor. i observed that the dry-dock we entered had a pontoon gate, floated in or out of place as desired. there being no tides in the lakes, this style of gate--less liable to leak under continuous pressure--is invariably used; for the only method of emptying the docks here is by pumping, for which purpose a steam-engine and pumps, with a well and water channel leading to it, were employed. we scarcely had made our entry into it, ere many busy hands worked to give the keel of the yacht a secure rest on wooden blocks which were fastened down to prevent them floating. they were of such a height as to permit the shipwright getting under the vessel's bottom. then side shores were put in to keep the boat in an upright position. this being accomplished, i could notice that the pumping machinery was brought into full operation. soon i found that the level of the water became lower and lower, and after the expiration of about one-half hour the dock was almost dry. the sides of the dock generally consist of stone steps--called altars--for the purpose of fixing the lower ends of the shores, and also for the convenience of supporting the workmen's scaffold. mr. james and family, including myself, left the yacht to the crew and workmen, while we further explored the city of buffalo in carriages, thoughtfully provided for us. the day after our entering dry-dock, august 1st, was eventful, as it was arranged we should make an excursion to view one of nature's greatest wonders--_niagara falls_--a sight unlike any other on the surface of the globe. the indescribable grandeur of the whole overwhelms the soul--to contemplate that tremendous torrent which never stops! no rest in the ages of the past--no promise of a moment's stay in all the years to come--but on, on, with resistless force! our thoughts become like the mists that rise above this awful scene, and we are mute--pigmies of an hour! to feel that after what we are becomes a little dust, that solemn roar will echo in the ears of millions now unborn! though i had read diverse descriptions portraying the grandeur and magnificence of niagara falls, still i was aware that they had failed in conveying a clear and succinct outline of their wonderful proportions and great sublimity. my conclusions that, in older to be properly appreciated these gigantic cataracts must be visited, were confirmed, and, _re vera_, when once viewed the recollection of that glorious sight will linger long in memory. an hour's ride in the cars brought us to the village of niagara falls, a splendid manufacturing point, having all modern improvements and unsurpassed railway facilities of various kinds. the village was incorporated in 1848, and has about 4,000 inhabitants. the average annual number of visitors to this beautiful place is estimated to be 400,000. at the station of niagara falls, mr. james engaged vehicles which afforded accommodations for all of us--a party of ten--including the steward, who accompanied us, carrying a bountiful repast. the drivers of niagara falls are excellent _ciceroni_. we drove through the handsome village to prospect park, a property owned by the state of new york, and included in the niagara reservation, which the state acquired by purchase in 1885. all the unsightly buildings, heretofore obstructing the view, have been removed, and a terrace was erected for a distance of half a mile, affording uncountable attractions to the visitor with its venerable trees, comfortable seats, and delightful views. the main entrance is a tasty structure at the foot of cascade street. the point of land at the brink of the falls is called _prospect point_. since it commands a fine view, which is the feature of the park, our drivers advised us to abandon the carriages and to step nearer to the long stone wall running for some distance along the edge of the gorge. standing on the platform, i glanced at the mighty volume of water; here precipitated over a huge rock 163 feet high with a thunderlike roar that can be heard, under favorable circumstances, a distance of fifteen miles. for a long time we remained there, spell-bound by the wonderful panorama, plunged into a reverie of rapture. mrs. james, reminding me the carriages were waiting for us, brought me back to consciousness. the spectacle is so sublime and overwhelming that the mind, unable to grasp it, cannot adjust itself at once to a scale so stupendous, and the impression fails. but, gradually, as you remain longer, the unvarying, ponderous, unspeakably solemn voice of the great flood finds its way to the soul, and holds it with a fascination which is all pervasive and cannot be shaken off. in a car, moving on an inclined plane, we descended to the water's edge. these cars are raised and lowered by water-power, by means of a three-inch cable 300 feet long, running over steel wheels. at the foot of the stairway, tickets may be obtained for the trip on the "maid of the mist," that steams up to the horseshoe fall; then back to the canadian side, and finally returns to her starting point. the view from below presented to us new charms which we could not obtain before. in the first place the enormous height of the cataract may be better realized from beneath; then the emerald and opal translucence of the waters, as they pass in their swift career, was here especially effective; since the sun, shining through the mists of spray from a station in the heavens most advantageous for our prospect, crowned the entire scene with iridescent diadems. this fall is known as the american, separated from the "horseshoe" or "canadian fall" by a large island, standing on the verge of the cliff over which the cataract pours, and dividing the river in such a manner as to form from its waters the two above named falls. after a lovely ride through the beautiful woodland we viewed goat island, having an area of 61-1/2 acres and a circumference of about one mile. a strip about ten rods wide and eighty rods long, has been washed away on the south side since the first road was made in 1818. this island was, in ancient times, one of the favorite burying-grounds of the indians, and yet preserves traces of their funeral rites. crossing the first bridge, from which we had one of the grandest views of the rapids, we reached bath island, some two acres in extent. a second bridge conveyed us to goat island, where we witnessed a most charming panorama. descending the stairs, we stood next to the little fall, beneath which is the famous cave of the winds. from the farther point of luna island, attainable by a little bridge, we saw the most desirable near view of the american fall and rapids; here, too, we enjoyed a fine spectacle in the perspective of the gorge below. it has often been remarked by strangers that this island trembles, which is undoubtedly true, but the impression is heightened by imagination. not far from luna island are the famous biddle stairs. shortly after their erection, in 1829, the well known sam patch, whose diving propensities made his name illustrious, performed his noted, bold feat in 1830. midway between the foot of these stairs and the canadian fall he built a scaffold, ninety-six feet high, from which he made his successful leap into the river. proceeding a little further, we stood in full view of the horseshoe fall--so-called because of its crescent shape--which contains by far the greater body of water; the fall being more than 2,000 feet wide and 154 feet high. the site of the old terrapin tower is the best point from which to perceive the shape of the fall. from the south side of the island the three sister islands are accessible, affording the finest views of the rapids. these islands offer, from their location, a delightfully cool retreat in the warmest summer days, with attractive and enchanting scenery. in order to have a comprehensive glance of nature's grandest wonder known to man, in its climax of sublimity, we took a ride back through prospect park, across the new suspension bridge, below the american fall, to the canadian shore. this splendid drive was continued through the queen victoria niagara falls park, opened to the public in 1889. following the example of new york state, the ontario parliament had passed an act to reserve the western side of the falls vicinity--the canadian reservation--covering an area of about 154 acres, and beautifully laid out. here we had the most imposing view; a finer panorama cannot well be imagined. the concussion of the descending waters with those in the depths below occasion a spray that veils the cataract two-thirds up its height. above this everlasting and impenetrable foam, there rises fifty feet above the fall a cloud of lighter spray, which, when the rays of the sun are directed upon it, displays solar rainbows, grand in their magnificence. it was here on table rock, formerly one of the most celebrated points about niagara, that mrs. lydia huntley sigourney wrote her spirited eulogy on niagara, which commences with the musical rhymes: "flow on forever, in thy glorious robe of terror and of beauty. yea, flow on, unfathomed and resistless. god hath set his rainbow on thy forehead, and the cloud mantled around thy feet. and he doth give thy voice of thunder power to speak of him eternally,--bidding the lip of man keep silence,--and upon thine altar pour incense of awe-struck praise." three miles below the falls is the whirlpool, a vast basin formed by the projection of a rocky promontory on the canadian side, against which the waters rush with such violence as to cause a severe reaction and rotary motion; and in it logs and trees are frequently whirled around for weeks in succession. geology has accepted as a matter of certitude that within the memory of men now living, the falls have receded 100 feet, and authorities in that science have stated the fact, that the retrocession--estimated from one inch to one foot per year--began near lewiston. the whole waters of the lakes there foamed over this dam several miles in width. the name "niagara" is supposed to belong to the vocabulary of the iroquois language, meaning "thunderer of waters." the first white visitor to niagara falls was father hennepin, a priest and historian, accompanying chevalier robert de la salle on his discoveries. he published the first description of "this wonderful downfall" in 1678. there exist now three distinct cataracts, which are known as _horseshoe_, _american_, and _central falls_. the weight of water descending over the cadences in a single hour, is computed to be 100,000,000 tons. the magnitude of the great waterfalls, and their fame as a natural wonder, had, heretofore, to a certain degree, excluded from thought the idea of their marvelous utilarian properties; but the recent development of electrical science, and the far-reaching enterprise of to-day, have now combined to subject to the uses of mankind a portion of the power of the falls, developed at such a distance from the great cataract as not to interfere in any way with the natural beauty of the scenery. as the western sky was dyed with the tints of sunset, we hastened to reach our floating home; since we expected two friends of miss campbell on board the yacht--a gentleman who holds a prominent position in buffalo, mr. j.b. seitz, and his charming wife. we returned with the exhalting sentiment of having visited a temple of nature, to whose shrine thousands from all over the world annually pay their tribute of praise. arriving on board the "marguerite" that--though still in dry-dock--was not laid dry any more, we perceived a striking contrast between the close and saturated atmosphere prevailing here, and the pure, balmy air at niagara falls. our thoughtful commodore, desirous of giving us the opportunity to inhale the refreshing sea-breeze, ordered our departure for the breakwater as soon as circumstances permitted; intending early on the following morning to commence our lake journey. the obscurity was fast increasing as we neared the high stone wall, and the scenery around me made the verses of whittier resound in my ears in which he described the "evening by the lake side" so beautifully with the words: "yon mountain's side is black with night, while broad-orbed, o'er its gleaming crown the moon, slow rounding into sight, on the hushed inland-sea looks down." chapter iii. voyage on three great lakes, from august 2nd, 7 a.m., to august 22nd, 9 a.m. as the warm rays of the morning sun were lighting up the scene with a radiance, glorious to behold, we bade farewell to buffalo which, being already in some distance, soon became entirely invisible. indescribable was our amazement when we viewed once more the waters of _lake erie_, whose raging billows had betrayed to us, only a few days ago, the unruly nature of a boisterous inland-sea. now, as we were gliding on its surface, the lake presented an appearance quite novel to us; being almost motionless, a true emblem of tranquillity and peacefulness. only now and then a gentle zephyr rippled its level which, reflected in the sunbeams, appeared like an undulating mass of silver. the cloudless heavens, clad in their brightest hue of azure blue, and illumined by the golden sun, painted a great variety of fine images of light and shade on the limpid waters beneath. the sky seemed to reflect the water and the water the sky, both gleaming in the sunshine. on our right, the lake made the impression of stretching into endless, unlimited space; on our left, however, we could distinguish romantic hills, decorated by massive groves, with crossing and intersecting promontories, and fair valleys tenanted by numerous flocks and herds, that seemed to wander unrestrained through the rich pastures. the luxuriant landscape was intercepted here and there by undulating slopes, covered with sand, whose light color contrasted with the verdure of vales and hillocks. speeding along, we came abreast of _dunkirk_, a lake-port town in chautauqua county, n.y., situated on a small bay in lake erie, forty miles southwest of buffalo. the town, which has a population of over 5,000, occupies an elevated and favorable position on the lake. its industries comprise oil refineries, and the manufacture of flour and iron-work. after proceeding on our voyage for some hours, we viewed--located in a natural bay--the harbor of _erie_, the capital of erie county, penn. the port is protected by a breakwater three and one-half miles long. the principal shipments that leave this harbor, are coal, iron, and petroleum; an important trade being carried on with the canadian lake-ports. the streets of the city are spacious and laid out with great regularity. to its prominent buildings belong the postoffice, the opera house, the city hospital, the court house, and the orphan asylum. erie contains nearly 20,000 inhabitants, many of whom are engaged in iron manufacture. the large supply of water required for the factories is obtained from the lake by powerful engines, which force it to a tower 200 feet high, whence it is distributed through the mains. the chief industries developed here, are petroleum refineries and leather factories. it was at erie, that commodore perry equipped the vessels which in 1813 defeated the british fleet on lake erie. in the year 1795 the town was laid out, and in 1851 it received a city charter. still fascinated by the attractions of the everchanging landscape along the southern coast, we had forgotten that _fugit hora_; for we were greatly surprised to perceive the approaching twilight, indicating the parting day, and the white beams of the young crescent just beginning to steal over the lately flushed and empurpled scene. therefore, the "marguerite" was cabled to the dock, about two miles from the village of _conneaut_. a fresh and palpitating evening air invited us to a walk along the coast of the beautiful inland-sea. adopting an unfrequented path through a vast plain of sand, we found the charming scenery enhanced by a solemn stillness. all nature slumbered. here, witnessing a magnificent prospect in this lovely solitude, we experienced one of those seasons when the atmosphere is so surcharged with luxury, that every pore of the body becomes an ample gate for sensation to flow in; and one has simply to sit still and to be filled. seated near the shore, we delivered ourselves up to the exquisite loveliness around us; and when returning on board the yacht, the impression of the superb panorama tarried with me, even into the realm of morpheus; so that i rose on the following morning with the remembrance of delicious dreams. when i came on deck, the air seemed to be sweet with perfumes; the water sparkled brightly, and the blue sky hung cloudless over the placid mirror of lake erie. thus, favored by the weather, the majestic steam-yacht resumed her voyage. after the lapse of two hours the harbor of ashtabula came in sight, and at about 10 o'clock we approached fair point. the noon-tide of the summer day was past, as we were made acquainted with the fact, that the rising towers and pinnacles, to be discerned in the distance on our left, pertained to the beautiful "forest city," next to cincinnati the largest and most important city in the state of ohio. _cleveland_ is built on both sides of the cuyahoga river, which is here crossed by several bridges. it is located chiefly on a plain from fifty to 100 feet above the lake, of which a magnificent view is thus obtained. leaving east river street, where our floating home was destined to remain, i undertook an excursion through the greater portion of the city; not solely for the purpose of viewing the regular streets, generally from eighty to 100 feet wide, and lined with maple trees, but with the design to see a friend--miss lina uhl--a teacher in one of the thirty public schools; holding a prominent position as the president of a teachers' association in cleveland. she is the niece of mr. c.f. hild, from schenectady, n.y. having previously informed her of my intention to visit her native city, i was already expected, and very cordially received at her hospitable home. after i had spent some very pleasant hours there, my friend accompanied me on my return to the dock. _en route_ she made me acquainted with many points of interest, which are so numerous in the "forest city." thus, she called my attention to the charming euclid avenue, a street several miles long, considered to be one of the most extensive and picturesque within the limits of the united states. here cleveland's aristocracy built their substantial mansions and luxurious villas, encircled by tasty, park-like gardens. of special interest to the visitor is the monument erected in memory of james abram garfield, the twentieth president of the republic, born in orange, ohio, in 1831. being in office but a short time, he was shot by a disappointed office-seeker, charles j. guiteau, in 1881. this sad event, which forms a thrilling incidence in the history of the union, is comparable with the recent death of carter harrison, mayor of chicago, whose assassination by prendergast, under similar circumstances, on saturday, 8.30 p.m., october 28, 1893, created a profound sensation and great excitement. monumental park, near the center of the city, contains ten acres, divided into four squares by the extension of ontario and superior streets. besides a fountain, and other attractive objects, the park is adorned by a statue of commodore perry, erected in 1860 in commemoration of his victory on lake erie in 1813. it is of italian marble, eight feet high, and stands upon a granite pedestal twelve feet in altitude. the most noteworthy buildings are the postoffice, the city hall, the county court house, and the cleveland medical college. the union railway depot, an immense structure of stone near the lake shore, is one of the largest of the kind in the united states. cleveland was founded in 1796, and named in honor of general moses cleveland of connecticut, who then had charge of the surveying of this region. it was an important point in the war of 1812, incorporated as a village in 1814, and as a city in 1836. the number of its inhabitants is estimated to be more than 200,000. the "forest city" has an extensive trade in copper and iron ore, shipped from the lake superior mining regions, as well as in coal, petroleum, wool, and lumber, received by railroad, canal, and lake transportation. a sojourn of at least one week is requisite in order to acquaint one's self with all the attractions of cleveland, with its unrivaled position and manifold beauties of scenery. in fact, our honorable president can be proud to share his name with this delightful place; and, in return, the "forest city" may consider it an honor to be the namesake of grover cleveland, the present leader of the powerful republic. on friday morning, as soon as the dawning day dispatched its first rays over cleveland, we resumed our voyage on lake erie. the flakes of light were falling every moment faster and broader among the spires and towers of the city of which we gradually lost sight. they were only discernible as long, gray shadows on the elevated lake shore. the mists were couched in quiet masses, iridescent with the morning light, upon the breasts of the remote hills, over whose leagues of massy undulations, they melted into the robe of material light, fading, lost in the increasing lustre, again to reappear in the higher heavens, while their bases vanished into the unsubstantial and mocking blue of the lake below. the dispersing wreaths of white clouds gradually gave place to the pale azure of the horizon. the level of the beautiful inland-sea was bathed in the glorious sunlight and the whole heaven--one scarlet canopy--colored the limpid waters with an exquisite, roseate tint; thus giving a redoubled splendor to this fine panorama. while the midday sun was sending forth his warm rays, we came abreast of marblehead, and speeding along we reached green island at 1 o'clock. having passed barr point lighthouse we chose our halting place on the canadian shore near _amherstburg_, a small village pleasantly situated on the detroit river. as the yacht was fastened to the dock, the heavens were yet illumined by the parting day; which gave us opportunity to admire the superb spectacle on the opposite shore. its southwestern extremity was adorned with numerous verdant islands of various size and form; some stretching for miles in length--the largest containing a circumference of fourteen miles; several so small that they seemed destined for a race of fairies; others in clusters; and some like beautiful vestals, in single loveliness, whose holy vows ordained them forever to live alone. the last streak of light had faded from the west, and a pale lustre kindling in the eastern portions of the sky, became brighter and brighter till the white falcated moon was lifted up above the horizon; while uncountable stars appeared to reflect their brilliancy in the waters below. this delightful scene around us, so perfectly filled and satisfied our sense of beauty that we reluctantly gave up our comfortable seats on the stern-deck, notwithstanding an advanced time of night. on the following morning the sun rose in his clearest splendor. as soon as that flood of luminous rays which constitutes day, was flowing on the crystalline sea, we departed from this romantic country scene in canada. sailing along, we approached the terminus of our voyage on lake erie, which is considered the most dangerous of all the great lakes as to navigation, owing to its comparative shallowness--its mean depth, being about ninety feet--and the consequent liability to a heavy ground swell. the peculiar features of this body of water are its inferior depth and the clayey nature of its shores, which are generally low; on the south, however, bordered by an elevated plateau, through which the rivers have cut deep channels. though the lake possesses but a small number of good harbors, the amount of traffic on its waters, and on the connecting railways is enormous. this inland-sea, presenting us only sights of utmost quietude and peace, has been the scene of a naval engagement between the british and americans, september 10, 1813, in which the latter were victorious. the view we enjoyed was not in the least adequate to remind us of warfare; on the contrary "the sun in heaven shone so gay: all things were joyful on that day." it was yet early in the morning when we neared the city of detroit, having almost reached the head of _detroit river_ which separates the united states from canada. being about one-half to three-quarters of a mile wide, and five and one-half fathoms deep, the river flows with a pretty swift current. _detroit_ is the most important city of michigan, opposite the canadian town windsor. eighteen miles north of lake erie, it stretches with its suburbs about five miles along the river, and the central part extends for about two miles back from the shore. approaching the city, we were more and more delighted with its attractive appearance. the streets, from fifty to 100 feet wide, are for the most part ornamented with rows of trees. a number of avenues, having an unusual width, diverge from the grand circus, a spacious park semi-circular in form, which is divided into two quadrants by woodward avenue. connected with the former is the campus martius, a public place about 600 feet long and 250 feet wide. detroit comprises many magnificent structures. one of the chief public buildings is the city hall, facing the campus martius, with fronts on four streets. it counts among the finest edifices of the kind in the west. built of sandstone, it is designed after the italian style of architecture, surmounted by a tower 180 feet high. its cost amounted to $600,000. other prominent structures are the opera house, the office of the board of trade, the custom house, and the roman catholic cathedral. the commercial facilities of the city are very extensive. the detroit river is a connecting link in the great chain of lake navigation, and affords the best harbor on the inland-seas. detroit is not only the center of a great railroad system; more than 350 vessels are owned here, and numerous daily lines of steamers run to various points of the lakes. its manufacturing industries are very important and consist of iron, flour, tobacco, cigars, lumber, and bricks. the extensive pullman car works are situated here; also one of the seven pin factories in the united states. settled by the french, early in the eighteenth century, detroit passed into the hands of the english in 1763. it was then besieged for eleven months by the indian chief pontiac; ceded to the americans in 1783, but not occupied by them till 1796. as a city, it was incorporated in 1824; and its present population is estimated to be 235,000. it was the capital of michigan from 1837 till 1847, when that honor was transferred to lansing. having traversed detroit river, we entered _lake st. clair_, a sheet of water eighteen miles long and twenty-two miles wide. this small lake has many extensive sand-banks covered with a depth of water varying from six to ten feet. previous to 1858, much inconvenience was experienced in navigating it, owing to the insufficient depth, but the governments of the united states and canada have dredged a canal through the bed of the lake, comprising a width of 300 feet. since then, this channel has been deepened so as to enable vessels drawing fifteen feet to pass with safety from lake to lake in stormy weather. after the expiration of a few hours we reached _river st. clair_, whose luxuriant border exhibited a magnificent panorama. afar off westward, the uplands wore a tinge of tenderest blue; and in the nearer distance, on the low shores of the river, superb summer residences, tasty villas, and elegant hotels, built in every style of architecture, lay interspersed between romantic hills and tufted groves. the horizon was of a fine, golden tint, changing gradually into the deep blue of the mid-heaven. none of us ventured to leave the deck fearing to miss some of those unrivaled sights constantly offering new attractions. this trip on river st. clair--though having an extent of thirty-three miles--seemed but short to us; and the fine spectacle displayed on the charming western bank may be reckoned among the most delightful scenes we beheld on our long, enjoyable voyage. as we approached the terminus of the river, a sudden rush of the awakened wind was heard; and out of the blue horizon a troop of narrow, dark, and pointed clouds were advancing, covering the sky, inch by inch, with their gray masses gradually blotting the light out of the landscape. horizontal bars of black shadow were forming under them, and lurid wreaths wrapped themselves about the crests of the hills. the wind had grown more violent as _port huron_ came in view. waving curtains of opaque rain, swinging from the overburdened clouds, dropped down upon the surface of the river. the black swaying fringes, sweeping irresistibly along the water, churned the surface into foam. the sudden and unfavorable change of the weather determined our commodore to abide at _port huron_, a prosperous city in michigan. it commands a very advantageous situation, located on the west bank of river st. clair, and at the southern extremity of lake huron. being the county seat of st. clair county, it is also a point of great importance in the railway system, and the terminus of several lines of lake steamers. the city, with a population of nearly 14,000, has a large lumber trade, ship-yards, dry-docks, saw and flour mills. founded in 1819, port huron was incorporated as a village in 1835, and as a city in 1857. since the yacht lingered here until monday, august 7th, we were enabled to become familiar with its broad streets, regularly laid out and well shaded; some adorned by beautiful private residences. the heavy, black clouds that had shrouded the whole sky ever since we made our entry in port huron, were yet concealing the golden disk of the summer sun. the atmosphere, however, which had previously a disagreeable, wet chilliness in it, gradually grew clearer and warmer so that we left the dock with the intention to undertake our voyage on lake huron, but when nearing the place where this sheet of water, covering an area of 23,000 square miles, communicates with river st. clair, we discovered that the swell on the lake level was yet quite considerable, whereas the wind which had blown a gale all the preceding day, was gradually dying away. still, we found it advisable to wait until the foaming waves of the enraged element had been appeased. in consequence of this decision we concluded to moor the yacht as near the entrance of lake huron, as we conveniently could, ready for an early departure; for which we considered the town of _sarnia_, opposite port huron, the most favorable locality. romantically situated on the canadian shore, sarnia affords a splendid north and west view. its handsome streets and neat structures are quite attractive to the stranger; and not these alone but also the residents who are generous and hospitable. we observed this fact, even during our short stay, when receiving the visit of mr. clark and his amiable lady, who presented us with a bouquet of fragrant flowers, a kind gift that we highly appreciated. long ere the east became purple with the morning light and the pinnacles of sarnia were bathed, one by one, in the glory of its burning, we departed from the pleasant city, and the white sea-bird "marguerite" spread her light wings over the surface of lake huron, whose waves--although the wind was quite fresh--did not run as high as i anticipated; for i had been informed that on the previous day the tide from the lake into detroit river amounted to eight miles an hour. as i was pacing up and down the deck, i viewed an inland-sea 270 miles long, and 105 miles broad, with a picturesque coast line on our left. the purity of its waters was discernible by its limpid appearance and savory taste. the fine deposits of sand and clay extending at different places along the shore to a distance of twenty miles inland, by their contrasts added to the scenic beauty, exhibiting a variety of magnificent views. the luxuriant coast bordering on the southern extremity of the lake and skirting the peninsula of michigan and southwestern ontario--though comparatively flat--is not void of charming features; being lined with numerous pretty villages imbosomed among gentle slopes that were covered with the richest verdure. these hamlets, situated in the quiet valleys and shaded glens, alternated with extensive fields and orchards exuberant with fertility. speeding along on the wavy surface of the lake, we gained sight of the breakwater of _sand beach_ when the noon-tide of the day had not yet arrived. we first visited the village of sand beach, and returned at nightfall to the breakwater, which is five miles distant from the former; here the yacht was cabled to the dock. near our halting place there stood a lofty tower, whose illuminating apparatus threw a radiant, vari-colored light on the dark surface of lake huron. upon expressing a desire to visit the light tower, mr. james, who never left any of our wishes unfulfilled, immediately made arrangements with the keeper; and, accordingly, we were invited to intrust ourselves to his guidance. he informed us that the structure rested on a foundation consisting of a concrete mass, nine feet below the water line. having ascended four flights of iron-wrought winding stairs, we reached the top of the circular structure; it having a diameter of twenty-four feet at its base, and rising to an elevation of fifty-seven feet. with great interest we inspected the revolving lights, exhibiting an ingenious piece of machinery, the invention of finisterre and barren in paris, and representing a value of $1,800. this apparatus for rotating lamps is far superior to that for a fixed light. the characteristic of the latter is to constantly illuminate the whole horizon, requiring all the rays to fall simultaneously on the navigable track, whereas the demands made of a revolving light, are not nearly so great; only each point of the horizon being lighted at successive periods. when the dark intervals occur, the rays from the flame which are then pointing toward the obscure spaces, have their direction so altered laterally as to pass into the adjoining bright places; and so increase the power of the luminous flashes. a revolving light, though supplied by a flame of the same strength as a fixed, will thus necessarily be raised to a higher degree; for it does not lose its power by diffusing the rays constantly over the whole horizon, but gathers them up into a number of separate beams of greater intensity. the lights made to revolve by means of clockwork, were fed with mineral oil, a refined kerosine; and the refraction was caused by highly polished metallic reflectors. this visit to the sand beach beacon was quite instructive; since we viewed there a practical application of an important principle in optics, based on the reflection of light. on wednesday morning, the first beams of the new-born day had just appeared, when the yacht continued her voyage on lake huron. after a course of nearly twenty-two miles, we approached _saginaw bay_--the largest indentation on the western lake shore--comprising a width of thirty miles and a length of sixty miles. the passage across this bay, feared by many experienced navigators on account of the heavy ground swell, did not give us any cause for anxiety at first. gradually, however, the sea became quite rough, and the enraged waves dashed their spray pearls even upon the deck of our sailing home. "the soft, wild waves, that rush and leap, sing one song from the hoary deep: the south wind knows its own refrain, as it speeds the cloud o'er heaven's blue main." the strong breeze springing up in the forenoon, increased at midday. a line of low waves, first creeping sinuously into the bay, and tossing their snowy crests like troops of wild steeds, rolled higher and higher with the noise of many waters; and to escape the wrath of the angry sea, we stopped at the harbor of _tawas city_, located near the northern extremity of saginaw bay. it is a thriving country town, with about 1,000 inhabitants, largely engaged in lumber trade. the wind continued to lash the fierce billows during the day until evening; so we decided to remain in tawas city until the dawn of the next morning. guided by the pale light of another aurora, we resumed our voyage, finding the surface of lake huron still in uproar. during this forenoon, we had occasion to witness a prospect quite novel to us. glancing to our left, on michigan's sylvan shore, we saw the bickering flames of a ravaging forest fire; dyeing all the surrounding air and landscape crimson, while dense clouds of smoke hung over the burning land like a pall upon which the sun-rays were reflected with weird effect. it was, indeed, an unusual sight, exhibiting strange beauty and splendor. in a short time we experienced the disagreeable consequences of this conflagration in the woodlands, caused by the extreme dryness prevailing in these regions for several weeks. for, as we reached _alpena_ in michigan, at about noonday, we found the atmosphere completely saturated with smoke, and intermixed with particles of burnt material. the reader can easily imagine that this impure air had a very unpleasant effect upon our eyes, irritating them so as to materially interfere with our comfort. this was the reason why we did not duly appreciate the attractions of alpena, a town with about 12,500 inhabitants, regularly laid out with nice, broad streets, containing many handsome buildings and large stores. we had an ardent desire to bid farewell to the city as quick as possible; wherefore our captain received the order from mr. james to guide the yacht forward on her course, even before the dawning of the next day, if such an early departure could be effected with safety. in compliance with these commands, we were on our way long ere the blush of day tinged the eastern sky. at first, disregarding the smoke and mist which became denser every minute, our navigator was soon aware that "so thick a haze o'erspreads the sky, he cannot see the sun on high: on deck the captain takes his stand, so dull it is, he sees no land. 'dear me,' he says, 'i know no more how far away we are from shore.'" the fact is--that on account of the dense pall of smoke and mist, overshadowing everything--our pilot lost his reckoning, and only kept the yacht slowly moving through the water until we could find our way, when suddenly--we ran aground upon a rocky ledge, causing us all great consternation. "no stir in the air, no stir in the sea, the ship was as still as she might be. her shaft and screw received no shock. her keel was steady on a rock." having lost all presence of mind, our pilot, without any meditation, abandoned the yacht in one of the small boats, for the purpose of obtaining assistance from the unknown shore. before we were conscious of his proceedings, he had disappeared through fume and haze. almost instantaneously we detected that the mariner's compass had vanished with him. thus, we were destitute of the most important instrument for navigation. wishing to give our deserter opportunity to find his way back to us, we caused the whistle to resound at short intervals. this interesting adventure was, of course, thoroughly discussed. we were all convinced that the unforeseen event might turn into a perilous one, should a wind arise to roughen the surface of the water. our conversation was interrupted by an involuntary cry of pleasure which burst from the lips of miss campbell, whose keen eyes had revealed to her quite an uncommon spectacle in the hazy distance. following her direction, we spied, through the fluctuating light of the foggy morning, the outlines of a steadfast boat speeding along on the calm sea. eight oars, managed with the accuracy of clockwork by eight strong and skillful hands, were hurrying toward our rock-bound craft. as the shape and dimensions of the capable boat became discernible, it was evident she belonged to the united states life-saving service, coming to our rescue. this conjecture was correct, for the robust crew soon lay alongside of us; which was a matter of intense relief to the whole party. with their assistance, the yacht was soon afloat again; and, guided by the thunder bay crew, we sailed to a favorable place of anchorage between sugar and gull islands. here the yacht remained to await our fugitive pilot, who was restored to us by the kind services of the life-saving crew, a few hours afterwards. we were informed that we had been aground two miles from the shore, in the vicinity of thunder bay lights on _gull island ledge_. during a heavy shower in the afternoon, we received a visit from several very pleasant ladies, relatives to the captain of the thunder bay life-saving service. when expressing our regret that their excursion was not favored by pleasanter weather, they assured us they were only too glad to view the tremulous skeins of rain refresh the languishing earth. in fact, this rainfall was a duplicated blessing, as it not only cleared the atmosphere from its smoky shroud but helped to check the ravages of the extensive forest conflagration, then threatening the city of alpena with destruction. an awakened breeze, which had freshened since the violent shower, caused our floating home to roll considerably. not desirous of being rudely tossed by the wanton billows, we weighed anchor and returned to alpena, the only safe harbor within reach before sunset. early the next day we continued our voyage on lake huron, entering its northern portion, which differs greatly from the nature of its southern shore. the northern and northeastern coasts are mostly composed of sandand limestones. where metamorphic rocks are found, the surface is broken and hilly, rising to elevations of 600 feet or more above the lake; in this respect unlike the southern shore, which is low and flat. of the many islands--whose number amounts to about 3,000--we could admire the beauties of but few; for most of them dot the canadian coast line. as the wind increased rapidly, it was deemed advisable to take harbor at _false presqu'ile_, where we arrived at 9 a.m. although this small body of land appeared very insignificant, inhabited by only twelve families, we decided to remain there, until wind and waves would prove more favorable. we had no motive to regret that resolution; for we experienced that this solitary tract not only afforded us enchanting views of lovely scenery; it was also the abode of noble-hearted mortals. immediately after our arrival a very amiable gentleman, introducing himself as mr. w.a. french, a wealthy lumber merchant of this place, visited us on board; giving us a cordial welcome. not satisfied with a kind reception, he and his pretty wife presented us with all sorts of provisions, indigenous to this locality; thus evincing the abundant supply of delicacies at their disposal, notwithstanding their residing in such solitude. the time passed with marvelous rapidity in the pleasant company of our new friends. when the gloom of the growing twilight reminded us of the fading day, we could hardly realize this fact. we wished to stay there another day; but when the following morning rose fair and beautiful in the clear heavens, the wind had changed to the southeast, which was disadvantageous for our mooring place; and it might have been dangerous for us to remain in that harbor, should the breeze become violent. leaving false presqu'ile, we pursued our voyage under the most favorable auspices. after a course of several hours, we reached _cheboygan_, a town situated on the northern shore of the michigan peninsula, thirteen miles from the straits of mackinaw. lumber trade is carried on especially in this place, which contains about 7,500 inhabitants. resuming our trip the next forenoon, a short course brought us to the terminus of our voyage on lake huron; when reaching the _straits of mackinaw_, whose blue green waves divide the state of michigan. extending nearly nine miles in circumference, and rising at its highest point over 300 feet above the waves, we beheld the famous _mackinaw island_, which has filled an important place in the history of exploration. here was the meeting place of the daring french _voyageurs_ and _aventuriers_, before the pilgrims landed on plymouth rock. many wild and thrilling incidents in the lives of marquette, hennepin, and la salle occurred on this island; and over at point st. ignace, in plain view, marquette was escorted to his burial place by a hundred canoes of plumed and painted ottawa and huron warriors in 1677. just across, on the most northern point of the lower peninsula, stood old fort mackinaw, the scene of the terrible massacre of the whites by the indians under pontiac in 1763. on this island were fought two battles in the war of 1812. it was here that schoolcraft wrote his celebrated history of the north american indians, and the legend of hiawatha, which longfellow, visiting him here, afterward expanded into a poem. the island's varied scenery, and its history and traditions, have been portrayed in vivid word pictures by marion harland in a book, bearing the title "with the best intentions," by which she has recently added to her wide fame. having crossed the strait at its narrowest part four miles in width, we caught sight of the beautiful waters of _lake michigan_, the only one in the group of the north american great lakes which extends entirely within the territory of the united states, having a maximum breadth of eighty four miles, and a depth varying from 700 to 1,000 feet. its length amounts to 345 miles from the northwestern corner of indiana and the northern part of illinois to the straits of mackinaw. we followed the same route which more than two centuries ago was taken by jacques marquette who, in the spring of 1673, with joliet for his chieftain, and five other frenchmen, embarked at mackinaw in two frail bark canoes. the disposition to pause for an instant, and to reflect upon the character and circumstance of our luxurious voyage as contrasted with that of these few adventurers in their fragile birch canoes--a little over 220 years ago--is almost irresistible. on that occasion it was a journey of extreme peril--with no friendly populous havens at which the necessary commodities could be obtained. those densely wooded shores afforded no hospitable refuge to these hardy men, and their destination or return was a question of great uncertainty. we pushed along with the marvelous propeller and, surrounded with every comfort, had the assurance of each evening anchoring in some safe harbor--encountering cheerful voices, and seeing glad faces--with the possibility of daily finding everything we wanted, in profusion. there was the postoffice, with its rapid service at our disposal, or the electric telegraph, by means of which we could communicate with every part of civilization, ever within our reach--and the climax of modern genius in the magnificent structures of the columbian exposition awaiting us--the marvel of the nineteenth century, with its unparalleled aggregation. the thought is overwhelming! and could these explorers have seen in a dream--what we witnessed in reality--it would have seemed to them an impossibility that so short a time could have brought about such great events. the eastern lake shore was richly garlanded with forests displaying a vast multitude of verdant hues, varying through all the shades of green. over the whole the azure of the sky cast a deep, misty blue; blending toward the rocks of limeand sandstone, seemingly embracing every possible tint and shade of color. having achieved a course of sixty miles, the yacht cast anchor in the excellent harbor of st. james on _beaver island_, a large tract of land covering an area of 3,700 acres. vessels of various kinds and shapes lay moored in this spacious inlet. being wind-bound, we tarried for two days, which gave us opportunity to become acquainted with the features of the island. we were informed that it is identified with the history of mormonism; since it was first settled by adherents of that sect, who robbed the ships entering this port, and who led the lives of pirates. after their leader was killed in one of the numerous combats which ensued with the attacked sailors, they abandoned the place; but the habitation of the mormon chief is still existing, probably the only vestige left here of the followers of joseph smith. at 1 o'clock a.m., on wednesday, august 16th, we departed from beaver island. the pilot had guided the "marguerite" on a course of about forty-five miles southward, when we approached _northport_, michigan, a place noteworthy for having not a single of those maleficient institutions, commonly styled beer-saloons. we lingered two hours at the dock of this town. the white fields of blinding mist floated along the winding valleys of the low lake shore; and from the dark clouds curtaining the sun, the rain fell continuously. thus the landscape on our left bore a gray and dim tincture. before the darkness of evening had gathered about us, the yacht was made fast to the dock of _frankfort_, on the michigan coast, a small place with a population of about 1,000, romantically situated. taking our departure from the town on the following morning, we observed that the fog, covering the surrounding landscape with a thick, impenetrable veil, increased in density until it seemed as if from moment to moment additional tints of sombre gray were united to the haze. in fact, after a while we were unable to discern the outline of the coast, having to pursue our way with great caution. after the lapse of four anxious hours, we had the great satisfaction to hear the welcome sound of the fog-horn of _manistee_, the county seat of manistee county, in michigan. it is situated at the mouth of the same-named river, which is navigable for vessels, drawing ten to twelve feet of water, for the distance of one and one-half miles to manistee lake. largely engaged in lumber trade, the city has a score of saw-mills and about as many shingle-mills, the latter of which produce annually 450,000,000 shingles, the largest number made at any one place in the world. in consequence of the discovery in 1881 of a bed of solid salt, thirty feet thick, extensive salt factories are being built. the population of the city has rapidly increased in later years, comprising about 14,000 residents at present. the surrounding district is especially adapted for fruit-growing; and sportsmen are attracted to the manistee river and its tributaries by the abundance of the otherwise rarely found grayling. since we expected company on board the "marguerite" in the evening--mr. wilkinson, a citizen of milwaukee, who intended to make us acquainted with his wife, we went on shore immediately after dinner to view the city, so as to return in time to meet our visitors. manistee made the impression of a flourishing business town. the comparatively long trading thoroughfare is a broad street nicely laid out, and adorned with numerous stately buildings and spacious stores. not long after our departure from manistee, which occurred early on the following morning, a sudden squall threatened us; and a few minutes later, a terrific flash and peal broke almost simultaneously upon us, followed by a violent shower. fortunately, it lasted but a short time. the tempest gradually ceased; the irregular and blinding flashes became fewer and the thunder rolled less loudly. gradually the scene changed to one of peaceful beauty so that the rose light of the radiant sun-ball appeared in the heavens; casting a new glory on the picturesque scenery of water and shore. the surface of the lake had become calm; and speeding along, we enjoyed the lovely weather which was not destined to continue. for, toward midday a fresh breeze rippled the waters that by degrees were transformed into towering waves, shaking their foamy crests, and tossing us angrily from side to side; and we were not sorry when we reached the harbor of _muskegon_, about six miles from muskegon city, situated on the same-named river which here, four miles from its mouth, widens into muskegon lake. it is the best harbor on the east side of the great lake. the city has daily steamboat navigation with chicago; and saws and ships enormous quantities of lumber. its principal manufactories are a number of foundries, machine shops, and boiler works. the present population is estimated to comprise about 24,000. while admiring the lovely scenery enhanced by an enchanting sunset, from the deck of the yacht, our attention was distracted by approaching footsteps. in the uncertain, fading daylight, we perceived a gentleman accompanied by a lady--curiously regarding us--whom we invited on board the "marguerite." mrs. and mr. wickham were the names by which this fair couple was introduced. that they spent the evening in our company, was very acceptable to us--as we but rarely had visitors on our pilgrimage. they greatly admired our floating home, and as the moon arose to bathe us with his silvery light, they took their departure. the young archer--morn--broke his arrows on the remote hills, walking golden-sandaled down the lake, when we continued our voyage. the still waters were soon lashed into fury again by an unfavorable wind, increasing toward midday to such a degree that we were glad to take refuge in the harbor of _south haven_, where we lingered until the dawn of another day. opposite the mooring-place of the "marguerite" stood an edifice whose interior we all longed to view. having so unexpectedly become acquainted with the life-saving service on the occasion of our adventure near thunder bay, we were anxious to learn more about that noble institution. in the afternoon we set out for the south haven life-saving station whose captain, an obliging gentleman, gave us very satisfactory explanations. he first called our attention to the splendid qualities of the life-boat: such as its power to right itself if upset; the capability of immediate self-discharge when filled with water; its strength; resistance to overturning; speed against a heavy sea; buoyancy; and facility in launching and taking the shore. we then inspected the diverse apparatuses utilized for rescuing the shipwrecked. a very clever contrivance, especially appropriate for saving invalids, children, and aged persons is the metallic car, a small covered boat, which can hold three or four persons who, entering by a comparatively small aperture, are shut in and drawn ashore, safely protected from injury even though overturned by the surf. for projecting a line over a stranded vessel a howitzer is used; and in this way a communication is secured to the shore. the cork life-belts worn by the men, are of the plan first designed by admiral ward. it is safe to say that the united states life-saving service is chief among the life-boat societies of other nations, both as regards the extent of coast embraced, and the amount of work done. the whole support of this service is provided for by annual grants from congress. besides its vast coast line, it guards the shores of its great lakes. since the sea-bordering portions of america in many places are destitute of human habitations, the constant employment of surfmen is required for the express purpose of looking out for vessels in distress and manning the surf-boats. it also necessitates the erection of houses of refuge provisioned so as to afford shelter and food to shipwrecked sailors for a considerable time at places, where without such provisions those who escape the sea, would probably perish from hunger and exposure. the shores of the united states lakes and sea comprise over 10,000 miles, embracing almost every variety of climate and formation of land. this great extent of sea-board is divided into twelve districts with in all 244 stations. of these 182 are on the atlantic, forty-nine on the lakes, and twelve on the pacific. many of the stations are closed during the fine months of the year; their crews being disbanded till the winter gales again summon them to their heroic and dangerous work. that they render noble service in this way, may be gathered from the annual reports. the official statement of 1893 shows that the disasters to shipping in that year amounted to 427 cases; that on board of vessels thus endangered there were 3,565 persons of whom 3,542 were saved. after we had thus enriched our knowledge referring to this humane institution with its present effective system, we proceeded to the neighboring shore of lake michigan, here forming a beautiful beach. the polished and print-less sand studded with small, shining pepples spread before us in vast expanse; and the magnificent waters of the lake glittered in the sun-beams as though they were sown with diamonds. when the surf came in, and the white fringe of the sliding wave shot up the beach, the light color of the sand was deepened to a silvery gray. as much as we marred and defaced its fine-grained, bright surface, it was ever beaten down anew by the advancing and retreating waves. we had hardly deserted this lovely spot, when our foot prints were washed away by the ever returning sea. on monday at an advanced hour in the evening we departed from south haven. since the glories of the sunset, with its witchery of rose and gold, promised a fine night, we decided to continue our voyage as far as michigan city. the panorama we witnessed during that nocturnal trip was as magnificent as can be imagined. the full-orbed moon on the wave was beautiful; and so was the landscape bathed in its light. toward 10 o'clock we arrived at our destination, a town in la porte co., indiana. _michigan city_ is the largest lumber-market in the state, and has numerous manufacturing establishments. as a lake-port, it is a place of considerable prosperity comprising a population of about 11,000. it was in the early morning, tuesday, august 22nd, that we left michigan city. having sailed along the coast of the lake for about three hours, we discerned in the misty distance the site of the "queen of the west." at twenty minutes to 9 o'clock, it became plainly cognizable. in transports of delight we glanced at a vast, verdant tract of land adorned with magnificent structures appearing to be of the purest marble; in their matchless beauty imparting to the mind some grand allegorical _tableau_, intending to convey the poet's idea of the new jerusalem. it was the famous _white city_, the site of the world's columbian exposition, that charmed our eyes and gratified our taste so much. no one can adequately describe that sight as seen from the clear waters of the lake.--i imagine that our illustrious columbus must have been equally affected as he beheld guanahani, that fruitful island in its wild luxuriance, on his first landing in the new world. chapter iv. stay in chicago and visit to the world's fair. our arrival in chicago put an end to our pleasurable voyage comprising the considerable length of 1,243 miles, during which "the waves were our pillow, our cradle the sea: when rough was the billow not timid were we." this westward trip afforded us every hour a revelation of the surprising growth of the nation that lives under the stars and stripes. my traveling companions were equally delighted with this course, notwithstanding their being preacquainted with that portion of the west, whose rapid development makes it practically a new and another west every ten years. in fact, america astonishes the world; and it is no common pleasure to study and note the progress of this great republic of which chicago is the second city in commercial importance, as well as in population. we were anxious to obtain an adequate conception of the site of a city that is the synonym of push and prosperity, and to which congress had awarded the world's columbian exposition. therefore, the yacht was moored inside the breakwater, near the mouth of the inlet, called the chicago river, which runs from the lake nearly one mile westward; then separates into two branches, one flowing northwest, the other southwest; thus dividing chicago into three divisions, connected by more than thirty-five bridges, and two tunnels laid under the bed of the river. this streamlet used to empty into lake michigan; but a remarkable piece of engineering caused it to change its course and so to speak, run "uphill." the illinois and michigan canal, with which the main branch of the river is connected, was so deepened as to draw the water out from the lake, so that--through this channel emptying into the illinois river--the water of lake michigan flows into the gulf of mexico by means of the mississippi river. had it been later in the season, we might have decided to follow this watercourse in order to view the fertile mississippi river valley, and to enjoy the beauties of the sunny south. the largest vessels may be towed into the chicago river, being supplied with docks and water-slips and affording a dockage capacity of nearly forty miles.--originally named chacaqua river, (the indian word for thunder, after the indian thor or thunder god), it is supposed to have given the city its name. at midday we left our anchorage--on which the eye of heaven shone almost too hot--and undertook our first trip to the fair grounds. seated on deck, we inhaled the invigorating, fresh breeze sweeping over the lake and modified by the burning rays of the sun that kissed the brilliant, blue waters beneath, with his golden face, gilding them with heavenly alchemy. high ran our anticipations as we were approaching the renowned white city, to which representatives of all nations have made a pilgrimage. at the expiration of about one-half hour, we reached the pier, destined for the halting-place of yachts; and welcomed by the supervisor of the harbor, we went on shore. the first impression was bewildering. americans have reason to be proud of what was to be viewed in jackson park; as such buildings no previous generations of men have seen, congregated in this manner; and the display of the achievements of science, art, and industries, exhibited in them, has undoubtedly eclipsed all other expositions in the world's annals of progress. it seems impossible to give so adequate a pen-picture of the world's fair as to impart to the reader an accurate idea of its true grandeur. many minds have essayed already to reproduce what they have witnessed there; many pens have attempted to record exactly the incomparable impression the exposition effected upon its visitors, but, it is safe to say, without even faintly describing it; for, can language convey to a blind man what "color" means, or to a deaf person the meaning of music?--no more can the pen of the most gifted author adequately portray the world's columbian exposition. if one would give to each building a volume; a shelf to the midway plaisance; and to the exhibitions a whole library in way of description, yet half of its beauties and wonders would not be told.-leaving the "marguerite" at the north pier, our attention was called to a unique exhibit made by the u.s. navy department, a structure representing a faithful model of a modern coast-line battle-ship. this full-sized imitation _man-of-war_ _"illinois"_ was completely equipped erected on piling on the lake front, and surrounded by water, so as to give the appearance of being moored to a wharf. here the government showed also a war baloon, a light-house, a life-saving station complete with apparatus, and a gun battery. proceeding a little westward, we viewed a building, delightfully located, bearing a strong resemblance to the national museum at washington. this imposing edifice classic in style, and adorned by a central octagonal dome was the _united states government building_; to the southward of which rose the largest of the exposition structures, the _manufactures and liberal arts building_, notable for its gigantic but symmetrical proportions, covering an area of more than thirty-one acres. looking in a southern direction, we caught sight of the pier extending 1,000 feet into the lake, and affording a landing-place for steamers. it was bounded on the east by the beautiful facade of the _casino_, which presented a decidedly venetian aspect; its nine pavilions being in communication both by gondolas and bridges. at the west end of the pier stood thirteen stately columns emblematic of the thirteen original states of the union. rising out of the lagoon, the colossal _statue of the republic,_ the largest ever built in america, predominated over this charming scene. beyond it extended a broad basin from which grassy terraces and broad walks led on the southward to one of the most magnificent edifices raised for the exposition, the _agricultural building_. in style of architecture it pertained to the classic renaissance and was erected at a cost of about $1,000,000. from the pier westward across the park, we walked through an avenue, several feet long; affording a view of almost unparalleled splendor. encompassing a beautiful sheet of water, the majestic facades of imposing buildings attracted our eyes; above all, a superb guilded dome shimmering in the sun-light, and pertaining to the _administration building,_ which was pronounced the gem and crown of the exposition structures. in general design in the style of the french renaissance, it was built at an expense of about $550,000. located at the extreme south of the park rose the stately _machinery hall_, following classical models throughout, and being especially rich in architectural lines and details. its construction required a sum of $1,000,000. facing the grand avenue, our eyes rested with delight upon two immense edifices on either side of the administration building, one for the _electrical_ and the other for the _mining exhibit_. turning to the northward, we viewed the _transportation building,_ exquisitely refined and simple in architectural treatment, although very rich and costly in detail. on our right we beheld one of the most notable spots in jackson park, (viz) _wooded island_, a gem of primitive nature, agreeably contrasting with the grand productions of human skill surrounding it. close by was the _palace of horticulture,_ the largest structure ever erected for such purpose, costing about $400,000. proceeding more northward, we reached the entrance to the _midway plaisance_, directly east of which stood, encompassed by luxuriant shrubs and beds of fragrant flowers, like a white silhouette against the background of old and stately oaks, the daintily designed _woman's building_. on a well paved boulevard we entered the great "highway through the nations." formerly a promenade belonging to the south park system and connecting jackson park on the east and washington park on the west, it was styled by the seekers of _plaisir_ "midway plaisance" signifying "pleasure-way." this name has been retained by the administration of the world's fair, whereas the country-lane of former times had undergone a complete metamorphosis. we were unable to realize the radical character of the transformation as we contemplated the enormous variety of attractions here presented, more numerous and unlike any others ever brought together. therefore, it is a very difficult task to give the reader an exact idea of the impression the midway plaisance effected upon its visitors, because we generally derive our conception of a scene from the comparison it will bear with similar spectacles. the "highway through the nations" constituted an attractive, novel, and instructive addition to the exposition. for, besides enlightening ourselves in regard to the styles of structures--inhabited by the diverse nations on the earth,--forming a fine array of villages, castles, towers, pavilions, pagodas, mosques, and other displays of oriental and occidental architecture, we viewed the natives of the various countries. there were representatives of nearly all the races and tribes, constituting the human population on our planet which is estimated to amount to 1,500,000,000 men. we had a chance to study their features, manners, and customs; their way of dressing, as well as their language and special occupations. such opportunities are only otherwise given to travelers around the globe. the rays of the descending sun--casting rosy reflections on the beautiful panorama and the mammoth _ferris wheel_, with its gigantic form overtowering the structures of the midway plaisance--gave us the signal for abandoning this charming realm. thus, directing our steps toward the exposition grounds, we arrived at the northwestern portion of jackson park where we ascended the entrance to a station of the _columbian intramural railway_, the first and only electric elevated railroad, operated by the third rail trolley system.--conveyed by the driving power of electricity, we had a delightful ride affording a fine view upon the northern part of the grounds. scores of graceful structures constituting a veritable town of palaces, embodied the best conceptions of america's greatest architectural display. a picturesque group of buildings erected by the states and territories of the american union, rose in a semicircle around the _fine arts galleries_, a palace costing half a million. grecian-ionic in style, this edifice represented a pure type of the most refined classic architecture. in the western portion of this group--facing the north pond--stood the _illinois building_, adorned by a dome in the center, and a great porch looking southward. surrounded by lawns, walks, beds of flowers, and shrubs, the charming structures of foreign nations were ranged on wide, curved avenues-affording an interesting aspect. just south of the _foreign_ and _state buildings_ we observed a considerable expanse of the lagoon, with inlet to the lake, encompassing three islands. on the largest one stood--contrasting agreeably in appearance with the other edifices--the _u.s. fisheries building_, spanish-romanesque in style and flanked at each end by a curved arcade connecting it with two polygonal pavilions. leaving the intramural train at the north loop, we arrived at the government building; thus having completed our round-trip on the fair grounds and midway plaisance. when we returned to our floating home, we had the satisfaction of having obtained the best possible results of our first visit by properly utilizing every minute. it will be obvious to the reader that the excursion just described, was equivalent to a trip around the world; wherefore i am entitled to the assertion that it even surpassed nellie bly's remarkable feat who needed seventy-two days, six hours, and eleven minutes for accomplishing her circumterraneous voyage. this success was due to the management of mr. james, who made his intelligence effectual, in unison with great experience, gained by having attended the grand international expositions held in the course of several decades in the different sections of the globe. since there did not exist accommodations for a safe anchorage for yachts along the piers of the white city, we were obliged to sail back to the chicago harbor. the ride on the billows of lake michigan, however, was very enjoyable after the heat of the day. fanned by the cooling sea-breezes, which we inhaled in the fullness of delight, our eyes rested in perfect rapture on the glorious panorama of the grounds extending toward the lake shore. the superb structures rising vaguely and obscurely in a shadowy expanse under the gloom of the growing twilight, were later beautifully illuminated by uncountable electric lights; from the powerful arc-light of 8,000 candles to the delicate incandescent lamp of one-sixteenth candle power gleaming like tiny fire-flies in the distance. it filled us with amazement to cogitate, that human mind and manual skill could create a spot on earth looking so much like a conception of paradise. the next morning when corroborating our nerves by a hearty breakfast, mr. james announced to us the programme of the day which set forth that we should witness in detail the attractions of the midway plaisance--a proposal that pleased us very much. having again disembarked at the pier of the exposition grounds, the intramural railway conveyed us rapidly--running with a velocity of twelve miles an hour--to the entrance of the international highway. we commenced with the attractions at the right hand side--and having passed the displays of the _diamond match company_ and the _workingmen's home_--the international dress and costume exhibit, known as the _congress of beauty,_ attracted our attention. between forty and fifty pretty living representatives pertaining to the fair sex of different nationalities, races, and types were dressed in distinctive national or racial costumes. the _california nursery_ and _citrus tree exhibit_ separated this beauty show from the _electric scenic theater_, which may be regarded as a triumph of the modern progress in the electrical science. it depicted the changes of a beautiful swiss alpine scenery as such are gradually occurring from dawn till night--representing the magical and most wonderfully realistic effects ever produced by electric lamps. visiting the _libbey glass works_, we obtained a very clear idea of the art of manufacturing glass--by following up the different processes of melting, blowing, cutting, spinning, weaving etc. all of which were in full operation in this exhibit. in fact, the endeavor of this company to instruct the spectator in every detail of the work--was a complete success and exceedingly satisfactory. the ingenious construction of their magnificent building was especially adapted to enable the daily throngs--resorting to it--to have every opportunity for observation; and judging from what we saw, and the various comments we heard, we should be inclined to feel that the management had every reason to be satisfied with their splendid effort. the artistic products manufactured solely by this company, and shown in the diverse departments--as well as those, decorating the crystal art display rooms--equal anything in the past and present, not excepting the celebrated bohemian and venetian manufactures of world-wide fame; and certainly the exhibition of cut glass made by the libbey company at this exposition, has established the fact, that foreign manufactures can no longer claim to turn out the best artistic work; for truly, in that rich and unrivaled display, the summit of clear glass making and magical effects in cutting and polishing have been achieved. especially attractive were the tapestries and fabrics woven from spun glass. this was decidedly notable in the marvelous dress woven from one loom for the spanish princess eulalia at a cost of $2,500. that these goods also serve as a canvas does for artistic work--was evidently proved by the sundry beautiful effects of this kind in the crystal art room.--it would be impossible to enumerate the various articles produced in this wonderful and interesting display; but it is safe to say--the working exhibit of the libbey glass company--in their palatial and costly structure was one of the chief features of the midway plaisance and the ever memorable columbian exposition. a gateway--reminding us of mediaeval times--ushered the visitor into the _irish village_ and _donegal castle_, a representative exhibit of irish industry, art, and antiquity. the scenes there--were picturesque and uniquely hibernian. in one of the cottages irish lace-making could be noted; in another was shown by hibernians the whole process of dyeing, carding, spinning and weaving home-spuns as well as various other branches of industrial developments in ireland. a few steps sufficed to transfer us from here--a representation of the extreme western portion of europe to the most eastern country on the eastern hemisphere--japan; which fact demonstrated the verity: _les extrãªmes se touchent_. entering the japanese bazaar, we observed japanese ladies and gentlemen selling articles manufactured in--and imported from nipon. a highly interesting study of the natives of west java (dutch east indies)--their occupations--and their bamboo huts--could be had in the _javanese village_ exhibiting more than a hundred little men with bright and cheerful malay faces, and thirty-six short women whose graceful movements were a source of attraction to thousands of visitors. this scene of the tropical regions stood in striking contrast with a feature in immediate nearness--pertaining to a temperate clime--the _german village_. here, in the spacious concert-garden shaded by the dense foliage of numerous oak-trees, two german military bands, one of the infantry and one of the cavalry--seventy-four men in all--gave grand _echt deutsche militaerconcerte_. the group of typical german peasant homes, the black forest house, the westphalian inn, the upper bavarian home, and the spreewald house, together with the hessian rural town-hall, and the castle were exact reproductions of mediaeval times. a portion of this stronghold from a remote date, was given up to the ethnographic museum; a collection chiefly of implements of war and of chase, illustrative of all periods beginning with the pre-historic and ending with the renaissance. an attractive group in wax constituted the figure of germania, surrounded by german heroes from arminius down to william i. the _pompeii panorama_--near by--showed a very realistic representation of this city destroyed by the eruption of the vesuvius in 79. this display was succeeded by the _persian theater_ and the _model of the eiffel tower_. we left the crowded roadway, and entered the narrow _street in cairo_ which made an imposing impression with its strange, oriental facades--the picturesque shops--and the quaint overhanging upper stories of the ancient egyptian city. natives of this african country--which is fertilized by the waters of the nile--manufactured and had for sale egyptian, arabian, and soudanese articles. donkeys and camels were engaged in carrying visitors who chose to admire the busy thoroughfare seated on the backs of these animals. the native camel-drivers in their national costumes moved around and mingled with the strangers--which gave the populated street a peculiar charm to the eye, whereas the "bum-bum candy" sold by egyptian confectioners, afforded a strange sensation to the palate of the visitor. here, where the architecture, the surroundings, and the people were as far removed from anything american as could well be imagined, we really--for some minutes--were lost to all consciousness of being in that extremely modern city, called chicago. after having viewed the side attractions to which belonged the egyptian temple--resembling the temple of luxor--the tombs of the ancient kings, and fac-similes of mummies, we entered the _algerian and tunisian village_. besides a theater, it contained a great number of booths or bazaars in which a choice selection of goods of all kinds--peculiar to algiers--was for sale. proceeding southward through the frequented avenue, we saw--in succession--the _kilauea panorama_, a vivid picture of the great volcano of _hawaii_, with all the surrounding scenery--an _american indian village_, showing the remnants of some of the greatest north american indian tribes, and their manner of living--and a _chinese village_ including a theater, a joss house, and a bazaar. the most southwestern portion of the midway plaisance was occupied by the "wild east show" where performances were given by bedouin arabs. with their short turkish swords--the cimeters--they accomplished feats of such intrepidity and daring as to cause the spectators' blood to coagulate in their veins. bending our steps westward again, our attention was fixed upon the attractions on the north; _id est_ on our right hand side. very striking to our eyes were two exhibits the comparison of which established the fact that they were as unlike each other as could be fancied. not only that the two villages contrasted greatly by their external appearance; but the scenes and inhabitants that they encompassed, were in direct opposition. reader, can you realize that here from the north pole to the equator there was but one step? _laplanders_, from the arctic region in europe, the next-door neighbors of barbarians from the torrid zone in africa? although both low in the scale of humanity, the fierce and savage _natives of dahomey_ with their repulsive habits exhibited the characteristics of the very undermost order of mankind. but the mind was at once relieved from this sad picture of human debasement by the refined and attractive scenes in the _austrian village_, inclosing realistic reproductions of thirty-six buildings as they existed, more than a century ago, in old vienna, deservedly eulogized in the song: es gibt nur a kaiserstadt es gibt nur a wien; da muss es praechtig sein, da moecht' ich hin! having arrived at the center of the spacious promenade, we ascended one of the six northern platforms, communicating by turns with thirty-six aerial coaches, suspended by an iron axle to the periphery of the mammoth _ferris wheel_. a conductor invited us to step into a coach, as the appropriate moment had arrived, whereupon we entered a car having the seating capacity of forty persons, and almost the size of an ordinary pullman palace car. ere we were conscious of any movement, the monster wheel was slowly revolving in response to the powerful machinery by which it was operated--a trophy of the modern era of eminent progress. the total weight of the moving mass was 1,200 tons; and its construction involved the expenditure of $400,000. reader, if you have not experienced the charm of this circular ride through a circumference of about 785 feet, you hardly can convey to your mind the conception of the fascination it afforded. since the motion of the coaches was almost imperceptible, we could enjoy the trip--(viz)--two complete revolutions of the wheel--without the least excitement naturally aroused by rapid movement. imagine the sensation of being carried up 250 feet on one side--and of being slowly lowered on the other; fancy the enjoyment and delight when gradually gaining a complete view of the fair grounds and the midway plaisance--a bird's eye-view of the whole of chicago--and also a good portion of lake michigan. dear reader, you will certainly acknowledge the fact that such a ride surpassed any similar brief journey ever taken. for, what other device for transportation can maintain the claim of enabling its passengers to look upon the whole world during twenty-five minutes!- "when you get used to the motion only delight you will feel: gone is each terrified notion once in the circle of steel. and you enjoy the commotion clap and applaud with much zeal: for it surpasses old ocean to ride in the great 'ferris wheel.'" the sun--being almost too liberal in the expenditure of heat--made us long for a refreshing breeze. therefore we decided to ride in the _ice-railway._ here we had opportunity to feel the excitement caused by velocity of motion. for a seventy mile-an-hour locomotive would have been monotonous and tiresome in comparison with a dash around the ice-railway track, containing 850 feet, and covering an elliptic space whose surface had a coat of ice nearly an inch thick. over this smooth and glistening substance the bobsleigh was gliding with the speed of a toboggan and the ease of a coaster to the merry jingle of sleigh bells. this exhibit--whose cost amounted to $100,000--gave an example of inventive genius, and also of the successful application--in a novel manner--of the principles of refrigeration. the beautiful building next to the ice railway environed an excellent imitation _en miniature_ of the magnificent _cathedral of st. peter_ in rome, its size being one-sixteenth of the original. when viewing this model, the elaborate papal throne, and the vatican guards in the exact uniform of the pope's attendants, one might imagine to have been conveyed into _la bella italia_ by the agency of a magic wand. promenading more eastward, we found ourselves _vis-a-vis_ the _moorish palace_, a fine reproduction of saracenic architecture, the famous alhambra in granada, spain. the attractions exhibited in the interior of this structure could, indeed, bear a comparison with those offered in a realm of enchantment. the optical illusions, produced by ingeniously arranged mirrors, were a pleasing surprise to the visitor. luxuriant palms decorating the labyrinthian garden appeared to be endless in number--casting their shade over hundreds of life-like figures in gaudy costumes. each of these groups in wax, was multiplied again and again in the perspective of mirrors. entering the palace, the visitor was unable to shake off the feeling of perplexity caused by the extraordinary spectacles to be witnessed within its walls. the most startling surprises were the bottomless well, the cave, the monster kaleidoscope, and the panopticon. a touching scene, produced in wax, represented the execution of the unfortunate queen marie antoinette. so realistic was its effect that many tender-hearted mortals could not refrain from shedding tears of sympathy for the ill-fated consort of louis xvi of france. a personage of special interest in the _turkish village_ was "far-a-way moses"--the celebrated guide and counselor of americans, visiting the shores of the bosporus--who has been immortalized by mark twain. with a pleasant smile his popular face, he gave a cordial greeting to every visitor. the various scenes constituted a true reproduction of ottoman life. the decorations in the turkish theater were in purely oriental style; and the representations on the stage showed the manners and customs of the countries embracing the turkish empire. the bedouin camp, north of the grand bazaar, displayed the peculiarities of a nomadic life of those arabian tribes. adjacent to a turkish cafe, the _panorama of the bernese alps_ was on exhibition. a beautiful painting showed the grand scenery of grindelwald, the wetterhorn, the jungfrau, schreckhorn, jura, the village of lauterbrunnen, and the little town of thun. ushered by a gate into the _johore village_, we viewed the habitations, weapons, apparels, and curiosities of that malay tribe. the performance given by one of the natives stood in striking contrast with what we understand by the art of dancing. in fact, it was more a series of graceful poses with slow rythmic movements of hands and feet. this peculiar dance effected a strange impression upon us; but seemed to amuse our baby virginia beyond measure, who, on the arms of her faithful nurse, attempted to produce movements similar to those she had just witnessed. the _south sea islanders' village_ exhibited malays from sumatra, borneo, samoa, fiji, new zealand, and other islands belonging to oceanica. the huts and their occupants had a strong resemblance with those of the javanese village whose inhabitants, however, were more agreeable-looking people. paying a visit to _hagenbeck's zoological arena_, we first admired his famous menagerie, which comprised rare varieties of quadrupeds, and a fine collection of birds. in a circus modeled on the plan of the coliseum of rome, we witnessed performances that evinced the wonderful docility mr. hagenbeck's animals possess, and manifested the complete control their trainers have over them. we had already seen innumerable circus feats; but those performed on this occasion, surpassed them all. for, such a perfection in training ferocious animals is extremely rare. _vraiment_, the five nubian giant lions afforded an imposing aspect; and their performances were simply marvelous, indicating that--while human ingenuity and skill subdued the great forces of nature to the use of mankind--also the fierce, majestic king of beasts is made submissive to man's will by his master power over all. _industrial_, _mining_, _diving_, and _horticultural exhibits_ occupied the remaining space of this eastern portion, whose extremity was taken up by _lady aberdeen's irish village_. here the displays were similar to those inclosed in mrs. hart's irish village, already described; but the novel feature of _blarney castle_ was the renowned magic stone, supposed to possess extraordinary virtues. thus, the unique highway through the nations afforded a prolific source for sight-seeing, and furthermore, was a sore trial to our organs of hearing. musical and unmusical instruments of every description were in operation--from the javanese salendon and pelog to the tuneful instruments, masterly handled by the excellent german bands. this visit to the midway plaisance established the fact, that the theories--admitted by the study of geography--could not be brought into consideration. how should space and time be in existence when a few steps sufficed to convey us from the land of perpetual snow to the zone of exotic plants and tropical fruit! "who can all the tribes and nations name that to plaisance from every climate came?" the chinese and turk, german and cingalese, esquimaux and javanese, irishman and polynesian, bedouin and laplander, austrian and soudanese, syrian, nubian, and japanese--all had a temporary home within the limits of a tract of land covering eighty acres. the sinking sun which crimsoned the structures of the midway plaisance, exhorted us to abandon this place of international _rendez-vous_--and to return on board the "marguerite;" since she was to convey us back to the chicago harbor. gliding along on the crystalline lake, "we breathed the airs, not ruffling its face. until we came to a quiet place." the latter we chose for our nightly abode; again casting anchor in the so-called basin near the chicago breakwater. the approaching night fully deserved its title--the season of silence and repose. the atmosphere was unusually mild. in the eastern portion of the sky the light of _luna_ grew brighter and brighter. her large, white circle silvered the tranquil waters and the environing scenes. in front of us at the airy distance, we viewed the beautiful white city rising from out the wave as from the stroke of the enchanter's wand; being brilliantly illumined. around us lights of many colors flashed from vessels of every description that lay moored in our vicinity. the scenic beauty of the surroundings, the balmy air, the charming quietude on the lake--all this fascinated us in such a manner as to make us reluctant to seek the repose, to which we were entitled by the long day's extraordinary experiences. on arriving at the exposition grounds the following morning, we observed that--in spite of the early hour--the promenades were unusually frequented. this fact was due to the celebration of the illinois day which had attracted a multitude of citizens from chicago and environs. in accordance with our unanimous desire--to first view the interior of the largest edifice, we entered one of its four great entrances designed in the manner of triumphal arches. the manufactures building was erected for the purpose of accommodating all classes of leading industries--the products of modern machinery and man's skillful handiwork--which, in this epoch of constant progress, have attained a high stage of perfection. and comparing the achievements of the present age with those recorded in the annals of history, proves that opinion. having stepped into the central aisle at the northern end of the mammoth structure, we found ourselves in a broad street, called columbia avenue. glancing around, we were dazzled by the resplendent glory of an aspect almost overpowering. the fine display included those exhibits which exemplified most advantageously the modern industrial progress made by the various nations on the globe. artistic pavilions, oriental pagodas, and quaint kiosks had been provided for most of the exhibits. the united states section--covering the entire range of manufactures, and extending from the extreme northwestern corner to the avenue east and west--evinced the high rank of the union in the industrial world in consequence of its uncommon wealth, and the inventive genius of americans in the production of labor-saving devices and improved machinery. all the great firms were represented, commending the abnormal variety of domestic industries. it was, indeed, a matter of difficulty to decide which of them was paramount. tiffany's costly exhibits in jewels, especially diamonds, housed in a beautiful pavilion, attracted the visitor's eyes. opposite this structure, germany had a stately building. gobelin tapestries and handsome furniture adorned its interior. the elegant rooms were modeled after the reception _salon_ of the imperial palace in berlin, and that of king louis of bavaria. all the various products of industrial pursuits--inclosed in this pavilion--manifested the intelligence and dexterity of the german nation. austria had a rich display, principally in jewelry and ornamental decorations, in an adjoining edifice. a splendid collection, including everything in the line of manufactures, was shown in the english pavilion, which rose south of the german exhibits. facing the former, france occupied a structure whose walls were adorned with costly tapestries, and whose ceramic, furniture, and household decorations were worthy of the highest admiration. next to the belgian section a sumptuous pavilion housed an enormous outlay of diverse russian manufactures. at the southern end of columbia avenue a magnificent building formed the gateway to a rich collection of italian art ware and industries. the handsome spanish pavilion was succeeded by typically persian exhibits consisting prominently of carpets, curtains, silk needlework, and tapestries. mexico, the land of _maã±ana_ and _poco tiempo_ was represented by costly decorations and art feather-work. the facade of the siamese structure--close by--covered with gold leaf, was imposing and attractive. displays of manufactured goods had been made by scores of other countries, all of which to enumerate would be an impossibility. as we reached the northwestern portion of the gigantic building, we were delighted with the sight of the japanese pavilion, one of the most valuable structures. upon its construction the japanese government had expended a great amount of money. the superb exhibits in works of art, bric-a-brac, and other exquisite manufactures brought to view by this nation, evinced an eminent talent and great ingenuity. the mikado--to whom is due the rapid progress civilization has made in his country within the last ten years--was the first of the foreign monarchs to demonstrate an active interest in the exposition. the melodious chimes resounding from the belfry of a clock-tower in the center of columbia avenue, caused us to take notice of the rapidly elapsing time. to our surprise, the immense time-piece indicated an advanced hour in the afternoon. we could not abandon the superb temple, so amply filled with the products of human industry, embracing that which was regally magnificent, as well as that most applicable to our daily needs--without an enthusiastic thrill. if man is weak in many things, he is also grand in much; and every thoughtful observer must have paused upon this threshold to pay a tribute to that untiring energy which must make the world better for its existence and progress. we entered the next great structure to the northwest. here, the government of the united states from its executive departments, the smithsonian institution, the u.s. fish commission, and the national museum, exhibited such articles and materials as illustrate the function and administrative faculty of the government in time of piece, as well as its resources as a war power. taking the south-entrance, our attention was first turned to the collection of the smithsonian exhibits. they showed the results of scientific investigations during the forty-seven years of its existence, and the scope of its work. the contributions from the national museum represented the natural resources of the united states: rare specimens of the american fauna; illustrations showing the geological variations within the limits of the united states and the utilization of nature's rich gifts bestowed upon this country. this department gave us occasion to obtain an entire idea of the enormous melioration, arts and industries have experienced in modern times--by means of exhibits demonstrating the history and development of ceramics, graphic arts, musical instruments; as well as many important trades from the most primitive stages to the present day. here also were interesting studies in ethnology, prehistoric anthropology, archeology, religious ceremonials, zoology, mineralogy, and geology. the treasury department--more westward--contained models, pictures, charts, and diagrams elucidating the marine hospital service, coast and geodetic survey, the mint of the united states, the bureau of engraving and printing, the u.s. lighthouse establishment, the bureau of internal revenue, the register's office, and the bureau of statistics. in the adjoining division assigned to the postoffice, we could trace the subject of transportation which plays so prominent a part in the history of civilization--by means of models, drawings, and pictures from the most incipient stages to the modern uses of steam and electricity. the northwestern portion of this interesting building was given up to the department of the interior; embracing the patent office, the bureau of education, the census office, and the u.s. geological survey. in the rotunda we viewed the "_big tree_," a section thirty feet in length, cut from sequoia gigantea, a tree 300 feet high whose diameter at the base covered a space of twenty-six feet. it grew in the sequoia national park in the charming clime of california. under the central dome were also shown 138 colonial exhibits--relics of historic value from days long gone by. the war department was well represented in all its branches; regarding uniforms and equipage, means of transportation, military engineering, shooting apparatuses, ammunition, etc. having visited the state and justice departments, we repaired to the division in which the government displayed (in the department of agriculture) a very complete and comprehensively arranged collection of grains obtained in this and other countries. very interesting were the adjacent exhibits, presenting to view the topics of food adulteration, entomology, pomology, botany, ornithology, and mammalogy; together with experiments in fibre investigation. betaking ourselves to the northern division, we were instructed--by various illustrations--of the methods employed by the scientific branch of the fish commission in determining the habits, peculiar to denizens of water. models and apparatuses showed the results of fish culture. the displays in this unique building covering almost all the branches of modern science and arts, bore testimony to the fact that the united states now rank with the most powerful nations on the globe; and to this attainment only a little more than one century of development was requisite. this says everything for american enterprise and genius--and a country so young in a very old world. the circumstance of its being a calm evening--with the prospect of a pyrotechnic display later--permitted us to remain on the fair grounds longer than we usually did; hence we determined to visit still another structure. by crossing a bridge over the lagoon, we arrived at the _fisheries building_. in the main edifice we first saw fishing-tackles, nets, and other apparatuses used by fishermen, and shown by the american net and twine co. the contiguous space to the right was given up to the exhibits of several states in the union, especially noted for fisheries, and of various foreign countries as japan, the netherlands, canada, france, great britain, russia, and norway. walking through a curved arcade, we beheld on either side aquaria of an enormous capacity, inclosing both denizens of fresh and salt water. it is safe to say the display of aquatic life made here, could rival the greatest permanent aquaria in existence; not only as to their voluminousness, but the immense variety of their specimens. especially striking to the eye was a magnificent group of gold fishes. the huge bull-cat fish and the gigantic turtle were conspicuous by their monstrousness. we removed to the eastern extremity of the fisheries building, forming a spacious circular pavilion. in the rotunda a basin, twenty-six feet wide, presented a beautiful scenic effect. over rocks picturesquely arranged, the silver meshes of a brook wound their way, forming here and there white gushes of waterfall which contrasted agreeably with the moss covered stones, and the semi-aquatic plants. the latter adorned the pool below, in which golden-hued fishes moved lightly to and fro. the inspection of the angling pavilion at the extreme western side of the fisheries building completed our visit in this fine structure, whose exhibits demonstrated largely the fishery wealth of the united states. taking advantage of the extraordinary calmness of the atmosphere, our mindful commodore resolved to moor the yacht in vicinity of the exposition grounds. for, he wished to give us opportunity to witness the display of pyrotechnics announced for the latter part of the evening, in solemnization of the illinois day. therefore, the "marguerite" conveyed us to a place which proved exceedingly favorable for our design. here, our floating home was anchored. enjoying a full vista of the white city, we found a prolific source of admiration in the grand electric spectacles. the illumination of the _columbia fountain_ in front of the administration building, and the display of two electric fountains in the western extremity of the south pond, were magical in effectiveness. wonderful flash-lights blazed from the tops of the tallest towers, surmounting the larger structures. whenever the operator threw the search-light investigably over the yacht, we shut our eyes spontaneously at its dazzling brilliancy. as the gathering shadows of night wrapped land and water in darkness, the hour arrived in which the visitors on the fair grounds--who seemed to be almost as numerous as the sands on the shore--expected to view the scenic effects produced by means of fire. we sat on the deck of the yacht as comfortably as in our _boudoirs_ at home. nevertheless, we were able to enjoy _ad libitum_ the same sight that so many others in the white city could only see with difficulty, on account of the unusual throngs. when we reflected on this circumstance--so much in our favor--our hearts were filled with gratitude toward our commodore, who had selected this excellent locality. from here we admired the exceedingly fine pyrotechnic displays. girandoles pierced the sky in all directions, with rushing lines of fire. sky-rockets exhibiting rich hues of purple, red, and green ascended through the air; and when reaching the highest point of their blazing paths, they discharged beautiful garnitures of floating stars, sparks, crackers, serpents, gold and silver rain. tourbillions mounting and rotating through the atmosphere, formed brilliant spiral curves of fire. splendid effects of changing color were brought to view by revolving fire-wheels. an appropriate _finale_ constituted the burning of the american flag, which bore a sublime character in the brightness of fire. "flag of the free heart's hope and home, by angel hands to valor given: thy stars have lit the welkin dome, and all thy hues were born in heaven" as the first faint smile of the morning peeped over the eastern wave, i rose--greatly refreshed by a sound sleep. coming on deck, i found that the sun's unclouded orb already poured its rays of light upon the earth. our eyes rested with delight on the white city throned on its numerous isles, looking like a sea cybele--ascending from the lake with her tiara of proud towers. at our arrival on the fair grounds, mr. james thoughtfully provided us with guides and rolling-chairs--vehicles which reminded us of the japanese jin-riki-sha. the main entrance of the agricultural building--adorned on either side by mammoth corinthian pillars--ushered us into a vestibule, richly ornamented with appropriate statuary. from here, we reached a rotunda surmounted by a gigantic glass dome. when looking about on the main floor, we fancied ourselves to be in a city of pavilions. for, the states of the union as well as the foreign nations had environed their displays with magnificent little temples and pagodas. to a great extent, they formed exhibits themselves, because in most cases the chief products of the respective country had been utilized for their construction. nebraska, for example, had employed sweet corn for the erection of its pavilion. every state and territory was represented by its productions; the northern states with indian corn, wheat, oats, barley, rye, and other cereals; the south with cotton, rice, sugar, etc. virginia, north carolina, kentucky, and tennessee evinced their noted superiority in the culture of the nicotian plant, which is in such great favor with the consumers of tobacco. agricultural and other food displays were shown in great varieties by the foreign countries. in the german section the gigantic chocolate tower (built of several hundred tons of chocolate by the famous firm "gebrueder stollwerck" in cologne) compelled admiration. the liebig exhibit of canned and preserved meat was a prominent feature of this division. great britain showed specimens of grain from the english experimental grounds, representing the effects of artificial fertilization on the various seeds. the contributions made by canada embraced grain, seeds, and roots; and its eleven ton cheese constituted one of the unique exhibits in this edifice. as in all great departmental structures, japan was well represented. it had a fine display of its chief exports--tea, rice, and raw silk. russia's showing covered a space of 32,000 feet. new south wales, france, mexico, austria, denmark, sweden, and numerous other foreign countries demonstrated, likewise, the variety and wealth of their natural resources. besides the farm products of the world in all their diversity and perfection, agricultural machinery was exhibited: devices of every description from the most primitive implements to the highly improved machines as they are in use at the present day. the ingenious arrangement of this display enabled the visitor to perceive at a glance the enormous progress made in that branch of industry. thus, we viewed in the annex of the main floor one of the most perfected plows--the "queen"--a trophy of modern inventiveness. and beside it stood an implement, which reminded us by its simplicity and unwieldiness of an apparatus, described in mythology as used by _ceres dea agriculturae_--when teaching to mankind this important occupation. the south-western portion of the first floor was covered with instructive contributions of american agricultural colleges and experiment stations. they embraced the entire field of scientific research in all branches of husbandry; illustrating the most improved methods of cultivation, and explaining how the best results may be secured. the great galleries contained a fine wool exhibit, an interesting apiary display, dairy implements, and a vast collection of manufactured food products. the multitudinous objects brought to view in this building, proved beyond doubt, that the standard of excellence in that ancient occupation has been achieved mainly with the assistance of scientific researches. a colonnade formed the connecting link between the palace of agriculture and the machinery hall. in its center, from an archway--leading to the _live-stock exhibit_--we enjoyed a fine view down the lagoon--extending nearly a mile in length. as adjuncts to the agricultural department, may be regarded the displays in the _dairy_ and _forestry buildings_. on entering the palace of mechanical arts, three elevated traveling cranes running from end to end of the structure, attracted our attention. they had been utilized in the work of construction, as well as in moving the machines presented to view. the platforms erected upon them, gave us occasion to look upon the entire machinery exhibition. the driving power used in the main building and annex was steam; excepting two small sections driven by electric motors. adjoining the south side of the edifice extended the enormous power plant. it supplied the machinery hall with a total steam power of about 3,000 horses generated by twelve engines. the entire plant, comprising over sixty steam-engines, and operating 127 dynamos, represented a most stupendous display of mechanical energy hitherto unequaled. its total capacity was equivalent to 20,000 h.p. the domestic exhibits located in the western portion of the main building--but mostly in the annex, revealed the marvelous progress made during the last decades in this wonderfully prospering country. shown by great firms from almost every state and territory were devices of various forms: motors and apparatuses for the generation and transmission of power--fire-engines and other appliances for extinguishing a conflagration--machine tools and devices for working metals--machinery for the manufacture of textile fabrics and clothing, for cutting wood, for typesetting, printing, embossing, book making and paper working, lithography, and photo-mechanical process, for working-stone, clay, and other minerals. in short, there were machines of every description employed in all industrial pursuits imaginable; yea, even appliances for facilitating the housekeepers' daily duties as laundryand dish-washing machines. in fact, it must require a considerable effort to excogitate novel labor-saving devices. nevertheless, man's ever active ingenuity constantly increases the number of meliorated contrivances. the pump exhibit was grouped around a tank of water, comprising an area of 7,500 feet. here at the junction of the main hall and annex, scores of modern pumps were in active operation. of the foreign countries we found germany best represented, quantitatively as well as qualitatively. the other prominent displays were made by france, great britain, canada, belgium, russia, spain, italy, mexico, new south wales, austria, and switzerland. here, the mechanical engineer was enabled to make studies of incalculable profit for his professional career; and even the lay mind received a vast amount of information. we abandoned the machinery hall at its northern extremity, and repaired to the most magnificent structure on the exposition grounds. the exterior of the administration building, so rich in architectural treatment, had compelled our admiration, to be sure; but the interior features even exceeded it in splendor. the four mammoth entrances were beautifully adorned by statuaries of emblematic character. there exist but few edifices of similar character, whose ornamentations rival those of its interior dome, which rose 200 feet from the floor. the four corner pavilions, four stories high, contained offices for the various departments of the administration; board and committee rooms; the postoffice; a bank, etc. an exhibit, manifesting the unrivaled wealth of the republic, and placed in the center of the rotunda on the first floor was an excellent reproduction of the capitol in washington in miniature, erected of silver coins: indeed a master-piece. i shall leave it to the reader to find out how many of the half dollar-pieces were needed for the construction of this unique building, contributed by the u.s. government. to our regret mr. george r. davis, director-general of the columbian exposition, whom we intended to call upon, was absent. so we determined to have the electricity building next in our programme. the sundry appliances of electricity dispersed in all parts of the grounds, gave us already a conception of the incomparable rapidity with which it has developed--both as an industry and science. the intramural railway demonstrated the latest application of electric motor power to elevated railroads. the illumination of the grounds and buildings showed the marvelous progress achieved in electric lighting, and the expertness in obtaining brilliant spectacular effects. the electric launches on the lagoons manifested the usage of electricity for water-transportation. all these practical exhibits represented purely commercial features, whereas the displays in the building--we just had entered--offered a field of relevations as regards the extraordinary accomplishments in the electrical science. they embraced all the improvements from the earlier inventions to the latest marvels. in the southern portion of the main floor, the united states showed various devices for creating the three economic commodities--light, heat, and power. with great interest we inspected the numerous apparatuses illustrating the phenomena and laws of electricity--the instruments for electrical measurements--the electric batteries--and the machines for producing electrical currents by mechanical power. how transmission and regulation of these currents are effected, could be studied by a vast number of devices. a very interesting group constituted the electric motors and their manifold applications as to street and other railways; to mining, to elevators, pumps, printing presses, and domestic appliances. the creation of light by electricity was beautifully elucidated by the weird illumination of the edison light tower in the center of the building, and the egyptian temple in its south-eastern portion. countless incandescent lamps were glowing in all the colors of the rainbow. the luminary effect gave us the impression as if a fiery serpent was meandering along these iridescent glass-tubes with inimitable velocity. among the inventions of later date may be reckoned the use of electricity in heating; especially for industrial operations as electric forging, welding, brazing, tempering, etc. the lay mind is almost incapable of estimating the utilarian capacity of this great property. even many branches of modern sciences have received eminent advancement by its utilization; such as surgery, dentistry, therapeutics, metallurgy, chemistry, etc. germany and france made the most commendable foreign display. great britain, brazil, austria, italy, japan, and canada had contributed in accordance with the development of this novel industry within their territory. the gallery was devoted to the wire exhibit and lighter scientific apparatuses. here were placed all the recent improvements applied to telephony and telegraphy. professor elisha gray's sensational invention--the telautograph--in active operation, attracted many spectators. it is a very ingenious contrivance, of which i have given a detailed description in my pamphlet on electricity--recently published in cincinnati, o., by the burgheim publishing co. the great number of exhibits demonstrated the achievements in the economic usage of electricity during an amazingly short period. in fact, the electrician has obtained unequaled results in his profession. to him is due--to a great extent--the high stage of perfection in sciences, arts, and industries at the present day. nevertheless, the field of electrical scientific researches is by no means exhausted. however, an entirely new era will have dawned, when the ever-increasing knowledge reveals to an ingenious inventor a method to apply the electric current to every-day-usage as easily and inexpensively as we utilize water at present. then the epoch has appeared which may be properly styled the "_happy_" or "_golden age_." for, many cares and sorrows will be removed at once. the conscientious housekeeper, for instance, whose domestic duties often exhaust her bodily strength, will find her burdens greatly lightened. she has no more to suffer from the intolerable heat of her cooking-stove, while furnishing repasts on oppressive summer days. the electric current will cause the water to boil--the meat to broil--and the potatoes to fry. yea, her dinner will be cooked ere she is conscious of that fact. in like manner the electric flat-iron will smoothen her linen without fatiguing her. but not only the lady of the house will rejoice; also the poor, hen-pecked husband will be in transports of delight, as it will make his path easier in many ways. the constant complaints he was hitherto obliged to endure, will grow mute for ever, and the curtain lecture will be no more. furthermore, should circumstances compel the active business man to part with his wife for a long time, the marvelous inventions enable their mutual intercourse during the separation as if time and space were unknown factors. the lady need not suffer long from inquietude concerning her husband's safe arrival; for the receiving instrument of her telautograph reproduces instantaneously his own handwriting. a parcel, sent to her by express, contains a cylinder to the improved phonograph. when bringing it in proper contact with this wonderful instrument, she hears her consort's voice, just as if he was by her side, and a thousand leagues were but a few inches. moreover, edison's kimetograph portrays the beloved features of her absent spouse. she is now perfectly consoled; for the radiant expression of his countenance manifests health and happiness. having left the imposing electricity building, we repaired to a structure in close proximity dedicated to exhibits of the mineral kingdom. never before, the records of international expositions gave account of a similar fact; namely, that the display made of mines and mining was so capacious as to require the erection of a special edifice. its size and architectural beauties rivaled those of the great structures in jackson park. the magnificent arched entrance of the north front was richly embellished with sculptural decorations emblematic of mining and its allied industries. this spacious gateway led us to the main floor, which presented a spectacle so weird that its impression cannot be easily effaced. in temples and pavilions of ineffable gorgeousness were exhibits of gems and precious metals of dazzling beauty. useful ores and their products, building stones, soils, salt, petroleum--indeed, everything that man furthers from the dark entrails of the earth, was offered to inspection. besides the mineral resources of the world in their original state, the displays embraced many devices of mining machinery; such as pumps and engines used in mining, moving, and delivering ores; apparatuses for breaking out ore and coal; for crushing and pulverizing; for reducing metals, for instance the extraction of gold and silver by milling, lixiviation, and fire; furthermore, boring and drilling tools; grinding and polishing substances, etc. the galleries containing especially the metallurgical collection, had the appearance of the scientific department of a museum combined with the laboratory and library of a university. moreover, there were offered to view many interesting and instructive working models, various unique exhibits, and thousands of geological specimens. germany, france, and new south wales were the leading foreign countries in this building. great britain and her numerous colonies occupied the largest collective space. the brilliant outlay of the cape colony included 40,000 rough diamonds, and illustrated the method of polishing them. canada's mineral showing was so ponderous as to exceed the weight of 125 tons. it comprised every known species of mineral, marble, and granite in that country. in this enormous collection we discovered a block of pure nickel weighing 4,600 pounds as well as very large nuggets of native gold and silver. mexico made its most extensive contributions to this departmental structure. brazil, the argentine republic, russia, spain, greece, italy, japan, belgium, austria, ecuador, and other foreign nations were likewise well represented. the most prominent exhibits were grouped in the eastern section of the ground floor. they proved the unexcelled mineral wealth of the united states, particularly in iron, the annual production exceeding 10,000,000 tons. pennsylvania took the leading place being pre-eminent in her iron and steel industries. her supremacy in the production of "black diamonds" was manifested by a rich display; one trophy from her immense coal-mines was a shaft of coal sixty-two feet high, and ten feet square. colorado's fine exhibit of precious metals had, as an appropriate frame, a beautiful pavilion erected entirely from her local products. the abundance of gold in this important mining state is evinced by the fact that twenty-one of her thirty-three counties are producing that most desirable and malleable of all metals. california--nicknamed the "golden state"--showed among her vast resources gold, silver, platinum, quicksilver, copper, lead, zinc, iron, tin, graphite, crystal, alabaster, corundum, chrysolites, tourmalines, garnets, diamonds, and other gems. montana had most largely contributed to this departmental structure, and inclosed her display of precious metals in a temple adorned by the famous statue of justice. cast from pure silver valuing $315,000, and modeled after the celebrated actress--mademoiselle rehan--it was set upon a pedestal of gold, forming altogether a work of art of rare magnificence. michigan illustrated attractively her great copper industry; the deposits of this metal among the primary rocks of her northern section being the richest in the world. of special interest were the mining products of new jersey. this state furnished minerals not found anywhere else; for instance the franklinite--a compound of iron, zinc, and manganese--named from dr. franklin. missouri, the first state in the union to place exhibits in the mines building, environed the same with a beautiful pavilion built from local products. the curiosities included in the various state and territorial displays, were too numerous to give an account of them all. special features were--a miniature coal-mine shown by iowa; a section of the world-renowned mammoth cave in kentucky; a statue of rock salt representing lot's wife, a contribution from louisiana; a tunnel containing a double tramway for the carrying of ore displayed by pennsylvania; a model of the largest lead-reducing works in the world from missouri; and a miner's cabin built of mineral specimens from the different counties in the territory of new mexico. all the mining exhibits--in their selectness and profusion--gave evidence of the inexhaustible wealth yet stored up for man's future uses notwithstanding the geological fact, that the earth's crust has no great profundity compared with its diameter. the "_golden door_" an immense archway enriched to an extraordinary degree with carvings, paintings, and overlaid with gold leaf, ushered us into the transportation building. it was dedicated to present the origin, growth, and development of the various methods of abridging distance used in all parts of the inhabited globe--from remote antiquity up to the present day. we were charmed with a striking vista of richly ornamented colonnades which added considerably to the impressive effect of the exhibits. the latter comprised three general divisions: the railway--marine--and ordinary road vehicle transportation. to the first mentioned--as most important--a space of over eight acres had been devoted. about one-eighth of this area was covered with the "railways of the world," an exhibit of the baltimore and ohio railway co., showing the development of locomotives and cars from the earliest days to the modern time. one of the unique features in the american railroad section was the operation of air brakes on a train of a hundred cars, the longest ever witnessed in a single series. in the center aisle of the annex, we inspected the chief display of the pullman company, a complete train sumptuously equipped. it embraced specially built pullman cars of the most luxurious character. the representation of the new york & chicago limited express was, without doubt, the finest railway train ever constructed. we received a very adequate idea of the wonderful achievements--evincing the genius of the age in which we live--in railway conveyance, by the out-of-door exhibit of the n.y. central & hudson r.r. co., at the southern extremity of the annex. here, the contrast between past and present was most sharply drawn: the first train, ever used for traffic in this country, and running between schenectady and albany, n.y.--the opening of this road was celebrated on the 24th of september, 1831--with its simple de witt clinton engine, was beside a locomotive of gigantic proportions, the fastest in the world. this stupendous piece of machinery constituted a portion of the vanderbilt enterprise. in the german section, two locomotives and seven kinds of _eisenbahnwagen_, enabled us to decide upon the relative advantages of this foreign system and the american method of railway transportation. great britain contributed a complete train and locomotive, also a model of one of the original stephenson locomotives--the "rocket." the railway division of france comprised exceedingly interesting french locomotives, a car, and many models. in the canadian exhibit, a complete transcontinental train compelled admiration. its cars built of solid mahogany, and lighted by electricity, were constructed and equipped by the canadian pacific railroad company. other foreign nations made their contributions to the railway division by models or illustrations of different kinds; prominently austria, belgium, mexico, new south wales, sweden, and norway. the means of water transportation were so diversified that their multiplicity can distinctly be conceived by those only who have viewed them _in persona_. there were represented: the birch-bark canoe from alaska--a norwegian steamship in miniature--the bimba or log canoe from africa--the bohemian propeller--corials from british guiana--the japanese pleasure-boat "hoomaru"--the padda boats from ceylon--the caique from turkey; furthermore, models of spanish war-vessels--malay boats--swedish ice-yachts--folding boats from canada--chinese war-ships--barges from burmah--french torpedo boats--characteristic coast-vessels from india-venetian gondolas--dutch coast sailing boats--the caravels, santa maria, nina and pinta, exhibited by genoa--siamese boats--life-boats--naptha launches--and a great number of small craft shown by the united states. of historic interest was the old _bateau_ employed by early french traders from quebec, and a model of a boat showing the style used on the sea of galilee in the time of christ. the artistic reproductions in miniature of various american, british, and german ocean steamers played an attractive part in this division. among the models of war vessels was the representation of the ill-fated english cruiser "victoria," considered to be the finest marine model ever constructed. a section from the center of a modern transatlantic liner reached to the top line of the gallery; exhibiting a complete interior of an american steamer. the development of wheeled vehicles from the first inceptive idea of the wheel to the present appreciable methods of its use was comprehensively illustrated. the exhibits were so arranged that the different stages of improvement could be readily noticed. the methods employed for conveyance on common roads were shown by hand-barrows--carts--trucks--drays--farm wagons--sprinkling carts--freight wagons--breaks, barges, wagonettes for pleasure parties--omnibuses--cabs-hansoms--pleasure carriages, coaches for four or six horses, victorias, broughams, dog-carts, buggies, phaetons, etc.; besides sleighs--snow shoes--steam and electric carriages--ambulances for the sick and injured--hearses; furthermore, bicycles and tricycles--rolling chairs for invalids--baby carriages; in short, vehicles of every possible description. almost all the nations on the globe had made their contributions to the department of vehicle transportation. this rare collection embraced the palanquin of africa--the mandarin chair of china--the bullock cart of ceylon--the sedan chair of colombia (south america)--the sicilian cart of palermo--the heavy lumbering cart of india--the queer traveling kroba of turkey--the volante of spain--the tarantass of russia--the hackney coach of france--and the dog-cart of england. among the relics of special interest to americans because of their association with historical personages, we beheld the well preserved carriages of daniel webster and james knox polk. a conspicuous feature in the central court was a model of the largest steam hammer in the world, utilized in the manufacture of armor plate for vessels. on entering the palace of horticulture north of the transportation building, our organs of sight and olfactory nerves were equally affected by the dazzling and odoriferous display of exuberant flowers and fruitage. had it been admissible, we would have been glad to put our organs of tasting in active operation, likewise. for, we longed to try the relish of some of the exquisite pomological exhibits, whose multiformity was too immense to be portrayed in a pen-picture. fruits of every form and description, sent from all zones, climes, and countries were represented here. many of the exhibits were maintained at a high standard by being constantly replenished with fresh fruits at great expense, particularly the californian citrus pyramid, comprising 31,150 oranges. the richly decorated court planted with ornamental shrubs and flowers, led to the center pavilion which was roofed by a huge crystal dome. this translucent cover transmitted the light and sunshine necessary for the floricultural display beneath. stately palms, tall tree ferns in great variety, and gorgeous specimens from the flora of almost every section, formed an immense pyramid of shrubbery. the luxuriously growing vines entwined their tendrils around the iron-work of the building, adding greatly to the beauty of the panorama. this superb spectacle recalled to memory horace smith's "hymn to the flowers." in one of its fifteen stanzas, the poet exclaims: "not useless are ye, flowers, though made for pleasure, blooming over field and wave, by day and night: from every source your sanction bids me treasure harmless delight." we descended a cavern, extending underneath this magnificent flower exhibit. our scrutinizing eyes met with quite novel features. we observed that the grotto was lined with glistening crystals from the mammoth cave of south dakota. emerging again to broad daylight, we bent our steps southward to that portion of the building, where the silver model of the horticultural hall and the miniature capitol of the country compelled the admiration of the beholder. the south pavilion encompassed the displays of viticulture. representations of actual scenes in the vicinity of california vine-yards-wine cellars--cool grottos--and a highly ornamental fountain throwing sprays of wine, constituted the most attractive domestic scenes. a picturesque panorama of the vine-clad banks of the rhine with its romantically situated castles--reminiscences of feudal times--formed a portion of the german wine cellar exhibit; also comprising an excellent display of _rheinund moselweine_. of the foreign wine-growing countries, the most attractive contributions were made by italy, spain, portugal, france, germany, chili, new south wales, and canada. we abandoned the building in order to view the floricultural out-of-door exhibits, which covered the large spaces on the lawns adjoining it and the wooded island. glancing at the beautiful orchids, roses, carnations, sweet peas, dianthus, asters, phlox, gladiolus, zinnias, and many other fragrant flowers, we experienced infinitely more subtle modulations of delight than can be easily described. the features of the horticultural displays were so striking that their memory is immortalized:- "for this picture in my brain only fades to come again." in fact, we had witnessed multifarious sublime spectacles during that day's sojourn in the white city. returning to the pier where the "marguerite" lay moored, we were greatly amazed as we caught sight of lake michigan--to find its waters lashed into fury by a northeast gale, of which we had felt nothing while in the pleasantly tempered horticultural building. since it was impossible to stay where we were, on account of the exposed situation, there was no help for it--but to put out for our usual anchorage, inside the breakwater at chicago. for my own part, i decided to remain on deck. perhaps, had i realized more fully what we had to encounter, i should have sought my stateroom, with the rest. but i can truly say: for three-quarters of an hour, my whole energies were employed to keep my place. during our entire journey from schenectady, n.y., to the white city, we had not experienced anything like it. everything of a movable character had to be secured; and it was an intense relief to all, when after an extraordinary upheaval--the last effort of the uncontrolled waves upon our stanch craft--she passed into the peaceful waters behind the breakwater; completely sheltered from the raging elements, which broke with ceaseless roar upon the concrete mass. the following morning as the rest of the party decided to remain in chicago for the purpose of viewing the renowned play "america" in the auditorium, i visited jackson park alone, spending many hours in the liberal arts building, which inclosed (besides multitudinous magnificent displays illustrating the department of liberal arts) the object of my special interest, viz. the educational exhibits. they comprised not only contributions from every state in the union but also from germany, great britain, france, mexico, canada, russia, new south wales, spain, belgium, and japan. the general character of them was represented by models and appliances for teaching, text-books, diagrams, examples, specimens of the school work on the various scientific subjects, and illustrations of the methods employed in instruction by the teachers of the different states and nations. by means of the ingenious arrangement of these displays, manifesting the great achievements made in the development of pedagogy, i augmented my professional learning during the hours of that day to such an extent as would otherwise require months of careful study. the means of obtaining these results of so great interest and profit to me as a teacher, were much facilitated by my knowledge of several of the languages spoken by the nations represented there. for, i readily understood the reports, statistics, and text-books sent from the educational institutions of the leading countries. furthermore, the commissioners of the respective sections, whom i addressed in their native tongue, complaisantly gave me all the additional information i desired. as i inspected, among the manifold exhibits contributed by the state of new york, the specimen work from the best pupils of the art students' league, some sketches from life and drawings from the antique attracted my special attention. they bore the signature of a young gentleman from schenectady--walter m. clute--a name which, i am certain, will be widely known in future years as that of a prominent artist of this country. we spent the following day--sunday--in chicago which is perhaps the most remarkable city in the world for its rapid growth. its history dates back to the year 1803, when fort dearborn was erected. abandoned at the beginning of the war with great britain in 1812, it was destroyed by the indians; but rebuilt in 1816. the town was organized in 1833, and the first charter of a city passed by the legislature, march 4, 1837. a number of outlying suburbs of chicago were annexed by popular vote so that the present area of the city covers 181 square miles; its population being about 1,400,000. when we consider the fact that in 1871 a great fire, sweeping over the business center of chicago, laid more than 2,000 acres in ruins, and then reflect on the city of to-day, rebuilt in a style of great solidity and magnificence, with its innumerable handsome buildings of stupendous proportions--its six hundred beautiful churches--and its vast number of educational institutions, we cannot but admire the spirit of enterprise which evolved such wondrous prosperity in little more than two decades. the destructive fire constituted the largest conflagration of modern times. commencing by the overturning of a lamp in a district built up almost exclusively of wood, about nine o'clock in the evening of october 8, 1871, it continued through that night and the greater part of the next day. finally, it was checked by the explosion of gunpowder, whereupon it exhausted itself by burning all there was to ignite within the confined space. although 18,000 houses had been reduced to ashes, ten years thereafter all traces of the calamity had disappeared. it would be impossible to give a description of all the fine buildings which have made chicago famous. the principal hotel--probably the largest in the world--is the "auditorium," having its dining halls on the tenth floor. all the conveniences that modern ingenuity has excogitated--in accordance with the requirements of the present era--have been introduced into this huge structure. it includes a theater having a seating capacity for 6,000 spectators. the park system of chicago is one of the most extensive in the world. jackson and washington parks belong to the south division, whereas the western section inside the city limits comprises three; known as humboldt, garfield, and douglas parks. their ornamentation is varied by superb flower-beds, fountains, statues, and monuments. lincoln park--including a zoological garden, and being romantically situated upon the lake shore in the northern portion of the city--constitutes a delightful place of amusement for pleasure-seekers. the parks are all connected by boulevards--some of them 200 feet wide--encircling the city, and affording a continuous drive of thirty-five miles. the trade of chicago is enormous. its chief items are grain, live-stock, meat products, and lumber. it principally manufactures iron and steel, wood, brick, leather, chemicals, boots and shoes, cigars and tobacco. the next day after our return to the chicago harbor in the evening, mrs. dr. mcdonald of chicago accompanied by her brother, mr. bernard, paid us a visit on board the "marguerite." miss campbell made the acquaintance of this amiable lady during her last trip to europe; and they were traveling-companions, spending many pleasant days journeying together in the old world. the woman's building was the first structure to be inspected after our next arrival on the exposition grounds, according to the programme for that day. it represented a great museum filled with countless contributions made by women. the superb displays of paintings, ceramics, art work, manufactures, liberal arts, embroideries, fancy work, laces; moreover, dentistry, surgery, authorship, pedagogy, etc., and works of female artisans--evinced that womankind is able to compete with man, not only in the arts and sciences and in the more delicate achievements of handiwork, but in almost every department of human activity. even the exterior of this handsome building, erected in the style of the italian renaissance after the design of miss sophia g. hayden of boston--with its exquisite sculptural decorations--executed by miss alice rideout of st. francisco--bore testimony to the fact, that women are entitled to enter into competition with their male colleagues. here, we beheld exhibits forwarded to this unique structure by women of every clime and section of the globe. even ladies of european monarchal families were represented--the queen of england and her daughters by works of art--the empresses of germany, russia, and austria as well as the queen of italy by costly laces--often the work of their own hands--and invaluable jewels--with romantic histories. the decorative needle-work exhibit constituted a very selected and complete collection; there being offered to view pieces of embroidery to the value of $8,000. all that was to be seen in this edifice proved the opinion that women are justified in demanding a position equal to men. nevertheless, many refuse to acknowledge this claim of equalization by pronouncing woman inferior to man concerning intellectual abilities. daily experience and the records of the past, however, demonstrate sufficiently that many modern industrial pursuits have successfully been carried on by female activity. not only the occupations, which require manual dexterity and good taste, also the higher branches of various sciences and arts have been excellently mastered by educated ladies, performing professional duties, whose execution demands a vast amount of intelligence and learning. thus the official u.s. census of 1890 contained the enumeration of 2,438 doctresses; 110 female lawyers; 2,136 architectresses; and 155,000 lady teachers in public schools. among the students, attending the diverse colleges in the republic, more than 18,000 are young ladies. even as inventors, women have distinguished themselves, as we may judge from the fact that during the last three decades, about 2,500 patents have been granted to female claimants, and scientific papers published--in 1884--a list of contrivances deriving their existence from the inventiveness of females. of the uncountable evidences of woman's inventive genius, the enumeration of the following devices and improvements may suffice: a chain elevator; an appliance for lessening the noise of elevated cars; a lubricating felt for diminishing friction (very useful for railroad cars); a portable water-reservoir for extinguishing small fires; an apparatus for weighing wool (one of the most sensitive machines ever invented, and of incalculable advantage for the wool industry); a rotary loom (performing thrice the work of an ordinary one); furthermore, manifold improvements to the sewing-machine, such as a device for threading the needle while the machine is in full operation; an appliance for sewing leather--contrived by a woman in new york who runs a saddlery business there--; and many others. to the sensational inventions, originated in female brains, belong--the sea-telescope devised by mrs. mather, an instrument for the purpose of examining the keel of a ship without requiring her being put into the dry-dock--and a complicated machine for manufacturing paper bags, a very intricate affair which many eminent mechanicians have made but unsuccessful efforts to contrive. since then, miss maggie knight, the inventress of the machine above mentioned, has found out another; namely for folding paper-bags. the latter performs the work of thirty men, and has been put up under that lady's personal supervision in amherst, mass. the wonderful achievements made by women in america, have not been attained by females of any other country on the globe. this circumstance is mainly due to the fact that the public school as well as the college system in the united states--contrary to that of other nations--makes a finished education accessible to both men and women. according to a report given by president white of the university of michigan--an institution that admits students of both sexes--out of 1,300 attendants of the greek class, the best scholar was a young lady. in mathematics and other scientific studies, girls had the highest standing. furthermore, the profession of teaching in this country is principally in the hands of women; which proves that the possibility of cultivating the female mind to a high stage of perfection is absolutely unquestionable. moreover, philosophers of modern times have demonstrated that it is wrong to assign to woman a position inferior to man by basing it on the theory--that her brains have smaller dimensions. for, it is not the quantity of the _viscus_ alone that settles this scientific question; but the weight of the brains in direct proportion to that of the person's body. recent scientific researches, accomplished by the noted parisian physiologist broca, yielded the result that the ratio of woman's brains compared with man's, contains even a surplus of one to four per cent. now, that science acknowledges that the female intellect is educable to the same degree as that of man; would it not appear to be a perversion of judgment to undervalue ingenuity, because it accidentally had its seat in female brains? would it not be unjust to leave talents undeveloped and without cultivation, simply because a woman possesses them? the active part woman took in the promotion of the columbian exposition is additional proof of her ability; and on this occasion she comes to the front rank more than ever before in her history. repairing to the northern portion of the park, we entered the "art palace" through the southern of its four main entrances. we found ourselves in a gallery where the magnificent sculpture exhibit captivated our eyes. in the court running east and west, we beheld a fine display of architecture showing models of many famous edifices in the world, and their exquisite portals and architectural ornaments. the american section located in the northeastern part of the building, comprised a collection _par excellence_ of elegant paintings, masterpieces from the best artists of this country. very interesting was the retrospective art exhibit in this department; illustrating the various stages in the development of american art, from its incipiency to the present perfection. the remaining space in the eastern pavilion was taken up by the french _division_, which--we acknowledged unanimously--contained the most laudable contribution made by a foreign nation. great britain's select display, representing some of its great artists, constituted the most extensive foreign section next to france. german art was represented by 580 fine paintings, including all the german schools that have gained celebrity; as the bavarian in munich--the saxon in dresden--and many others.--holland, belgium, russia, spain, austria, italy, norway, sweden, denmark, and canada had their share in the splendid effect, likewise. the japanese showing, elucidating the style of art, peculiar to that skillful nation, was very attractive and novel. if we trace back the records of the previous international expositions, we cannot find any report giving account of a similar collection representing modern works of art. in consequence of political causes, france had seldom made contributions to any but her own _expositions_. but the united states, not fostering hostility with any nation, was universally assisted in her gigantic enterprise. in fact, it would require volumes to describe in detail this elaborate display, whose prominent part--the home exhibits--verified irving's words: "in america literature and the elegant arts must grow up side by side with the coarser plants of daily necessity." the art palace environed groups and figures in marble and bronze, and other sculptural master-pieces--paintings in oil and water colors, on ivory, enamel, metal, and porcelain--fresco paintings on walls-engravings--etchings--pastel and many studies in chalk and charcoal; in short, every description of modern progress in this direction, even to excellent effects produced on wood with hot irons. art is but the human effort to seize some of nature's notable transitory features to perpetuate them. the unusual scenes of grandeur and of beauty our divine mother reveals to us in some of her moods, we adore, while they are inspirations to the poet and painter; and in this untiring course of art, many geniuses have become apotheosized. to take a lovely landscape at sunset: when from the side of some enchanting stream, you look toward the mountains in the west, and see the crimson and light blue curtains of the evening slowly shaken out; their fringes of burnished gold glowing with indescribable magnificence--who can portray it and do it justice? this evening robing of those variegated crests! that mingling of color, until it fades into deep violet dyes! they in their turn passing away to give place to the jewels of the night, whose unchanging song of eternal praise goes on---before such scenes, a corot, or an aubert dips the pencil in the glowing sky, and transfers its hues to the canvas; so that, in after time, our souls are gladdened by some retrospect, which makes life dearer to us amidst its cares. we must not consider art as the rival of nature, but her child that pays to her the most graceful tribute of homage by making her impressions permanent. highly interesting exhibits were presented to view in the _anthropological building_, including instructive ethnological and archaeological collections. in connection with the latter section were the relics shown in the convent de la rabida--where columbus, almost discouraged, found a cordial reception and kind assistance from father de la marchena--; the yucatan ruins--an illustration of ancient architecture and sculpture--; the homes of the cliff dwellers--vestiges of probably the earliest civilization of the american continent--; the spanish caravels--built in spain for the exposition--; the viking ship--reproduced from a norwegian vessel a thousand years old--; and the esquimaux village--exhibiting natives (their habitations, and sports), reindeers, and esquimaux dogs. the handsome structures erected by the foreign nations as well as those built by the states and territories of the union, were designed particularly for the entertainment of those visitors who constituted their respective representatives. nevertheless, many of them were beautifully and expensively fitted up; inclosing magnificent native products. their unique features were so manifold that it would be an impossibility to describe them deservingly without dedicating a volume to that purpose. the nineteen foreign buildings, each of which illustrated some classic style of architecture--peculiar to the nation represented--constituted an additional great feature of the columbian exposition. they gave the visitor an adequate conception of the construction and luxurious equipment of edifices abroad. in fact, on entering the buildings of germany, france, great britain, spain, new south wales, ceylon, canada, sweden, costa rica, hayti, guatemala, japan, etc., we fancied ourselves to be suddenly conveyed to these foreign countries. with a few exceptions, all the forty-four states and five territories of the union, had their share in the beautiful effect produced by their structures, erected--at a considerable expense--of such material as elucidated the prominent natural resources of the respective states. many of the edifices were modeled after buildings noted for some historical event. thus, the new york building was a reproduction, slightly modified, of the old van rensselaer residence, whose quaint architecture recalled a most interesting period in our national history, when the great metropolis of to-day was but a small sea-port town. this world's fair, which has recently been brought to a close, evinced to the millions of visitors, who were drawn by its multitudinous attractions to the white city from every section of this country, and from almost every quarter of the globe that it eclipsed in grandeur and excellence all of the previous universal expositions; for everything that good taste and modern genius could suggest and accomplish, was brought into play. the financial account given by the auditor of the columbian fair stands thus: the entire cost of the exposition to its close and the winding up of its affairs amounted to $26,288,685.67. its total receipts were $28,151,168.75; thus exceeding the expenditure by $1,862,483.08. the wonderful and rapid development of the international expositions may be recognized by the following statistics, compiled from the annals of their short history: ordinal year. location. area duration exhibitors visitors number in acres in days 1 1851 london 20.06 144 17,000 6,039,000 2 1855 paris 24.71 200 21,779 5,162,000 3 1862 london 22.24 171 28,653 6,211,000 4 1867 paris 29.44 217 50,236 10,200,000 5 1873 vienna 39.54 186 42,000 7,254,000 6 1876 philadelphia 59.31 184 60,000 9,900,000 7 1878 paris 59.31 194 32,000 13,000,000 8 1889 paris 74.14 183 60,000 32,000,000 9 1893 chicago..exp 533.00 183 50,000 27,412,728 ...mp 80.00 unable to obtain the exact figures denoting the number of exhibitors of the columbian exposition from any authentical source of information, i introduced into the above table the number of 50,000, mentioned in a newspaper, and therefore not absolutely reliable. conclusion. the universal verdict is--that the world's columbian exposition at chicago was a great success; and although disappearing like a dream, it will be a lasting and useful one. the mention of a few features, at once creditable to the age, and pointing hopefully to the future, may suffice to prove this opinion: notwithstanding the great rivalry between nations, there has not been a particle of jealousy, or unkind criticism exhibited at these great congresses. intelligent and representative people have been brought together from all parts of the earth, who--on returning to their homes--carried with them the germs of better feeling, which will have a tendency to break up the barriers of bitter prejudices and bigotry hitherto existing. the less favored and darker parts of our earth come more into the light. our children have had lessons, which no history or geography could convey; our women have taken a stand from which they never will recede. in the presence of the wonders shown us, and all the grand efforts of human genius, we become less selfish and more humane; a greater respect for each other is evoked. yes, it has been a good thing! all honor to the nations of the earth, who so generously have come forward with their best treasures, not sparing trouble or expense in this promoting, grand feature of human progress! the millions spent here, have been well employed; and we can safely say that--but for the unfortunate fact that during the time of the exposition, we were passing through a season of unusual financial depression--the attendance at the world's fair would have been much larger. nevertheless, it was a great success. all honor to the hon. george r. davis, the general director! all honor to his co-laborers! all honor to every one who did anything to push it along! for, it is gone--giving the pulse of the world the holiest thrill it ever had since its creation. finis. [illustration: cover of the boy pilot of the lakes by frank v. webster] [illustration: "sam fell into the water."--page 110.] the boy pilot of the lakes or nat morton's perils by frank v. webster author of "only a farm boy," "bob the castaway," "tom the telephone boy," "the young firemen of lakeville," etc. illustrated new york cupples & leon company publishers books for boys by frank v. webster 12mo. illustrated. bound in cloth. only a farm boy, or dan hardy's rise in life tom the telephone boy, or the mystery of a message the boy from the ranch, or roy bradner's city experiences the young treasure hunter, or fred stanley's trip to alaska bob the castaway, or the wreck of the eagle the young firemen of lakeville, or herbert dare's pluck the newsboy partners, or who was dick box? the boy pilot of the lakes, or nat morton's perils two boy gold miners, or lost in the mountains jack the runaway, or on the road with a circus _cupples & leon co., publishers, new york_ copyright, 1909, by cupples & leon company the boy pilot of the lakes printed in u. s. a. contents chapter page i nat saves a boat 1 ii a cry for help 12 iii nat's brave rescue 18 iv getting a job 26 v nat in trouble 35 vi an unexpected discovery 42 vii nat has an accident 51 viii in the pilot house 59 ix a narrow escape 67 x sam shaw appears 74 xi captain marshall is angry 81 xii the investigation 88 xiii making a change 95 xiv a blow and a rescue 103 xv nat hears some news 113 xvi just too late 120 xvii planning a capture 127 xviii nat's plucky piloting 135 xix the accusation 146 xx off again 152 xxi nat intervenes 159 xxii after bumstead 166 xxiii bumstead escapes 173 xxiv in a collision 182 xxv bumstead's arrest--conclusion 192 list of illustrations "sam fell into the water." frontispiece "he fell to the floor of the hold" 58 "the storm enveloped the vessel" 142 "shoot, then!" cried the mate 180 the boy pilot of the lakes chapter i nat saves a boat "there's a rowboat adrift!" exclaimed one of a group of men who stood on the edge of a large pier at chicago's water front. "yes, and the steamer will sure smash it," added another. "she's headed right for it! it's a wonder folks wouldn't learn to tie their boats secure. whose is it?" "i don't know. it's a good boat, though. pity to see it knocked into kindling wood." "that's right." the pilot of the big freight steamer, which was approaching her dock after a voyage down lake michigan, also saw the drifting boat now, and, doubtless thinking some one was in it, he pulled the whistle wire sharply. a hoarse blast from the steamer's siren came across the water. the signal was one of alarm. at the sound of it a boy, who had been sitting on a box at the edge of the wharf, idly swinging his bare feet to and fro, looked up. he was a lad about fifteen years old, with brown eyes and a pleasant face. though clean, his clothes--what few he had on--were very much patched. "something's the matter," said the lad. "something in the path of the steamer, i guess," for he had been around the lake front so constantly that he was a regular water-rat, and he knew what every whistle signal meant. as the boy glanced out to where the steamer was he saw the rowboat, almost in the path of the big vessel, for the pilot of the freighter had shifted his wheel to avoid a collision, though changing his course meant that he could not make as good a landing as he had expected. "why, that rowboat's going to be smashed!" the boy exclaimed, repeating the general opinion of the crowd. "the steamer can't get up to the bulkhead without grinding it to pieces. there! he's reversing!" as he spoke there came across the narrow expanse of water the sound of bells from the engine-room--bells that indicated, to the practiced ear of the lad, the signal for the engineer to back the freight steamer. "that boat's worth saving," the boy murmured as he jumped off the box and went closer to the end of the pier. "i'm going to do it, too. maybe i'll get a reward." he lost no time in useless thinking, but, throwing off his coat with one motion and divesting himself of his trousers by another, he poised himself for an instant on the stringpiece of the pier, clad in his undergarments. "here! what you going to do?" yelled a special officer who was detailed on the pier. "nobody allowed to commit suicide here!" "who's going to commit suicide?" demanded the boy. "i'm going after that rowboat." "the steamer'll run you down!" "not much! didn't you hear the reverse signal?" the officer had, but he did not know as much about boats and their signals as did nat morton, which was the name of the lad about to leap into the lake. in fact, the big steamer, which had slackened speed on approaching the pier, was now slowly backing away. the action of the wind, however, and the waves created by the propeller, operated to send the rowboat nearer to the large vessel. with a splash nat morton dived into the lake, cleaving the water cleanly. when he shot up to the surface a few seconds later he was considerably nearer the boat, for he had swum under water as far as he could, as it was easier and he could go faster. few tricks in the swimming or diving line were unknown to nat morton. "that's a plucky lad," observed one man to another. "indeed he is," was the reply. "who is he?" "i don't know much about him, except i see him along the lake and river front every time a steamer comes in. what he doesn't know about boats and the docks isn't worth knowing. they say he can tell almost any of the regular steamers just by their whistles, before they can be seen in a fog." "well, he's a good diver, anyhow. guess he'll save that boat, all right. it's a nervy thing to do. he ought to get a reward." "so he had, but i don't suppose he will. probably some sailor tied his boat up while he went ashore, and the knot slipped. he'll never give the boy anything." "look! he's almost at her now." "so he is. say, but he's a swift swimmer. i never saw any one who could beat him." "me either. there! he's in the boat and he's rowing her out of the way." "that's right, and the crowd on the steamer is cheering him. guess that pilot's mad enough to chew nails. it'll take him ten minutes longer to dock now, on account of that rowboat getting in his way." "lots of pilots would have run right in, and not cared whether they smashed the boat or not," said a third man, joining in the conversation. "so they would, but john weatherby isn't that kind. he's one of the best and most careful pilots on the lake, but he's getting old. perhaps that's what makes him so careful." "maybe; but now the steamer's coming in. the boy has the boat out of the way. i've got to get my team. i'm expecting a big load this trip." "so am i," added the other two men, who were teamsters and freight handlers. they separated to get ready for the unloading of the cargo, which would soon follow the docking of the steamer, that was now proceeding again after the delay caused by the drifting boat. in the meanwhile, nat morton had climbed into the small craft, and finding a pair of oars under the seats, was propelling it toward a float from which it had drifted. he had paid little attention to the cheers of the crew of the freighter, who in this way showed their appreciation of what he had done. nat was anxious to find the owner of the boat, for he had in mind a possible reward. as he reached the float he saw a young man hurrying down the inclined gangplank that led to the top of the bulkhead. the youth seemed excited. "here! what are you doing in my boat?" he cried. "get out of it right away! i thought some of you dock-rats would try to steal it if i left it alone an hour or so." "oh, you did, eh?" asked nat as he stepped out on the float. "well, you're mistaken. next time you want to learn how to tie a knot that won't slip when you leave your boat, if you don't want it knocked into kindling wood by a steamer." "tie a knot! smash the boat! why--why--you're all wet!" exclaimed the other. "shouldn't wonder," observed the boy calmly. "the chicago river isn't exactly dry at this time of the year." he finished tying the boat, making a regular sailor's knot, and then started up the gangplank. clearly he might expect no reward from this man. "hold on a minute," said the owner of the boat. "i'm in a hurry," replied nat, "i want to get my clothes. they're up on the pier, and somebody might take a notion to walk off with 'em. not that they're worth an awful lot, but they're all i have. guess you'll have to excuse me." "going for your clothes? i don't exactly understand." "he jumped off the dock and got your boat, which went adrift right in the course of that steamer," explained a 'longshoreman who had listened to the conversation and who had seen what nat did. "plucky thing it was, too. if it hadn't been for him you wouldn't have any boat now." "is that so? i didn't understand. i thought he was trying to steal my boat." "steal your boat? say, you don't belong around here, do you?" "no. my father is the owner of a small steam yacht, and i am taking a trip with him. this is the first time i was ever in chicago. the yacht is tied out there, beyond some other vessels, and i took this boat and came ashore a while ago to see the sights. when i came back i saw that boy in my boat." "humph!" murmured the 'longshoreman as he turned away. "you want to take a few lessons in tying ropes. that boy did you a good service." "i see he did, and i'm sorry i spoke the way i did. i'll give him a reward." by this time nat was up on the pier from which he had jumped. he found his clothes, and put them on over his wet undergarments. the day was hot, and he knew the latter would soon dry. besides, he was used to being wet half the time, as he and other lads of his acquaintance frequently dived off the stringpiece and swam around in the lake. so when the owner of the rescued rowboat looked for the boy he could not see him. but he determined to make up for his unintentional rudeness, and so went after nat. he found the boy with a number of others crowded about the entrance to the freight office. "may i speak to you a few moments?" asked the young man. "guess you'll have to excuse me," replied nat. "i'm busy." "what doing?" "i'm waiting for a job. i may get one helping carry out some light freight, and i need the money." "how much will you get?" "oh, if i'm lucky i may make a dollar." "i'll give you more than that for saving my boat. i want to explain that i didn't understand what you had done when i spoke so quickly." "oh, that's all right," said nat good-naturedly. "but if you're going to give me a dollar i guess i can afford to quit here," and he stepped out of the line, the gap immediately closing up, for there were many in search of odd jobs to do about the dock whenever a steamer came in. "here are five dollars," went on the young man, producing a bank bill. "five dollars!" exclaimed nat. "say, mister, it ain't worth all that--saving the boat." "yes, it is. that craft cost my father quite a sum, and he would have blamed me if she had been smashed. i'm much obliged to you. i'm sorry i thought you were stealing her, but it looked----" "forget it," advised nat with a smile. "it's all right. i'll save boats for you regularly at this price." "do you work around the docks--er----" "my name's nat morton," said the lad. "and mine is john scanlon," added the other, and he explained how he had come to leave his boat at the float. "i don't know that i will have any more boats to save, as my father's yacht will soon be leaving for lake superior. wouldn't you like a place on her better than your regular job?" "my regular job? i haven't any. i do whatever i can get to do, and sometimes it's little enough." "where do you live?" "back there," replied nat with a wave of his hand toward the tenement district of chicago. "what does your father do?" "i haven't any. he's--he's dead." and nat's voice broke a little, for his loss had been a comparatively recent one. "i'm sorry--i beg your pardon--i didn't know----" "oh, that's all right," said nat, bravely keeping his feelings under control. "dad's been dead a little over two years now. he and i lived pretty good--before that. my mother died when i was a baby. dad was employed on a lumber barge. he had a good job, and i didn't have to work when he was alive. but after he was lost overboard in a storm one night, that ended all my good times. i've been hustling for myself ever since." "didn't he have any life insurance, or anything like that?" "not that i know of. i remember he said just before he went on--on his last trip--he told me if it turned out all right he'd have a nice sum in the bank, but i never heard anything about it. they found his body, but there was no money in the clothes, nor any bank books." "that's too bad. how do you get along?" "oh, i make out pretty well. i live with a mr. william miller and his wife. they're poor, but they're good to me. he's a 'longshoreman, and he works around the docks. i do, too, whenever there is any work to be had, and i manage to make a living, though it isn't very much of a one." "no, i presume not. perhaps if i speak to my father he might give you a position on his boat." "i'm much obliged to you," replied nat. "i like boats and the water. i'd like to be a pilot." "i'm afraid dad couldn't give you that job," answered young mr. scanlon. "we have a good pilot." "and i don't want to leave the millers," added the boy. "they've been good to me, and i want to pay them back. but isn't that some one calling you?" he pointed to a figure down on the float, where the boat was tied. "yes. that's the mate of my father's steam yacht. probably father sent him for me. well, i'll have to say good-by. i hope i'll see you again." "i hope so, too, especially if you have any more boats you want saved. i'm afraid five dollars is too much." "not a bit. take it and welcome." "it's more than i could earn in a week," went on nat as he carefully folded the bill and placed it in his pocket. "all the same, i think i'll try for a job here now. it looks as if they needed lots of hands, because the boat is late." bidding john scanlon good-by nat turned back to the freight office, in front of which there was now only a small throng looking for employment. chapter ii a cry for help owing to the time he had spent talking to the young man whose boat he saved, nat lost a chance of getting work in helping to unload the steamer. still he did help to carry some freight to the waiting trucks and drays, and for this he received fifty cents. but as he had five dollars, he did not mind the small sum paid him by the freight agent. "you weren't around as early as usual," remarked that official as he observed nat. "you usually make more than this." "i know it, but i had a job that paid me better," and our hero told about the boat incident. "another steamer'll be in day after to-morrow," went on the agent. "better be around early." "i will, thanks." then, as there was no further opportunity for work on the pier that day, nat started for the place he called home. it was in a poor tenement, in one of the most congested districts of chicago. but if there were dirt and squalor all about, mrs. miller did her best to keep her apartment clean. so though the way up to it was by rather dirty stairs, the rooms were neat and comfortable. "well, nat, you're home early, aren't you?" asked the woman, who, with her husband, had befriended the orphan lad. "yes, mrs. miller." "i suppose you couldn't get any work?" "oh, yes, i got some." "what's the matter, then? don't you feel well?" she could not understand any one coming away so early from a place where there was work, for work, to the poor, means life itself. "oh, i did so well i thought i'd take a vacation," and nat related the incident of the day. the boy's liking for the water seemed to have been born in him. soon after his mother had died his father placed him in the care of a family in an inland city. the child seemed to pine away, and an old woman suggested he might want to be near the water, as his father had followed all his life a calling that kept him aboard boats. though he did not believe much in that theory, mr. morton finally consented to place his son to board in chicago. nat at once picked up and became a strong, healthy lad. as he grew older his father took him on short trips with him, so nat grew to know and love the great lakes, as a sailor learns to know and love the ocean. soon nat began asking questions about ships and how they were sailed. his father was a good instructor, and between his terms at school nat learned much about navigation in an amateur sort of way. best of all he loved to stand in the pilot-house, where he was admitted because many navigators knew and liked mr. morton. there the boy learned something of the mysteries of steering a boat by the compass and by the lights on shore. he learned navigating terms, and, on one or two occasions, was even allowed to take the spokes of the great wheel in his own small hands. in this way nat gained a good practical knowledge of boats. then came the sad day when he received the news of the death of his father. though up to that time he had lived in comparative comfort, he now found himself very poor. for though, as he told john scanlon, his father had said something about financial matters being better after the delivery of the big load that was on the lumber barge on which he met his death, the boy was too young to understand it. all he knew was that he had to leave his pleasant boarding place and go to live with a poor family--the millers--who took compassion on the homeless lad. mr. miller had made an effort to see if mr. morton had not left some little money, but his investigation resulted in nothing. for about two years nat had lived with the millers, doing what odd jobs he could find. his liking for the water kept him near the lake, and he had never given up his early ambition to become a pilot some day, though that time seemed very far off. every chance nat got he went aboard the steamers that tied up at the river wharves. in this way he got to know many captains and officers. some were kind to him and allowed him the run of their ships while at dock. others were surly, and ordered the boy off. in this way he became quite a familiar figure about the lake front, and was more or less known to those who had business there. when mr. miller came home the night of nat's adventure he congratulated the lad on what he had done in the matter of saving the rowboat. "and i got well paid for it," added nat as he finished his story and showed the five-dollar bill. "there, mrs. miller, we'll have a good dinner sunday." "but i can't take your money, nat," objected the woman. "of course you will," he insisted. "that's what it's for. i owe you a lot of back board, anyhow. i didn't get hardly any work last week." "i hope business will be better next week," said mr. miller. "i didn't earn much myself these last few days." there was little to do at the pier the next day, and the following day quite a severe storm swept over the lake. the boats were late getting to the docks, and the longshoremen and freight handlers had to labor far into the night. "i don't believe i'll be able to get home to supper, nat," said mr. miller to the lad as they were working near each other on the dock late in the afternoon. "could you spare time to go up and tell my wife?" "sure. i'm almost done with taking out the light stuff. i'll go in about half an hour. shall i bring you back some lunch?" "yes, that would be a good idea, and then i'll not have to stop, and i can earn more." as nat was about to leave, the freight agent called to him: "where you going, nat?" "home to get some supper for mr. miller." "all right. see me when you come back. i have an errand for you, and i'll give you a quarter if you do it." "sure i will. what is it?" "i want to send a message and some papers to a firm uptown. it's about some freight they're expecting, and the office is keeping open late on account of it. now hurry home and come back, and i'll have the message ready for you." nat was soon back at the pier, with a lunch for mr. miller. then, with the note and papers which the freight agent had ready for him, he started off uptown. as he was on his way back from the errand, he walked slowly along the water front. he decided he would call at the pier and see if he could help mr. miller, so that his benefactor might get through earlier. nat reached a wharf some distance away from the one where he had been employed during the day. it seemed to be deserted, though there was a large vessel tied up on one side of it, and two barges on the other. "i'd like to be a pilot on that big steamer," thought nat as he contemplated the craft in the glare of an electric light. "that would be a fine job. well, maybe i'll be on one like her some day." he was about to walk on, when suddenly the stillness of the night was broken by a cry. it was a shout, and it seemed to come from near the big freight barges. "help! help!" cried the voice. "i'm drowning! i'm in the water and i can't get out! help! help!" chapter iii nat's brave rescue "somebody must have fallen overboard from one of the barges," thought nat, for he could now easily determine that the cry came from the side of the dock where the two big freight carriers were tied. "why doesn't some one there help him?" but though he thus wondered, he did not hesitate over what to do. he ran out on the pier, and seeing a gangplank leading to one barge, he sprinted up it. the cries continued. "i'm coming!" the boy shouted. "i'll help you! where are you?" "down between the two barges! i can't get out!" cried a man's voice. "hurry! help!" the voice ended in a gurgle. "he's gone down under water!" exclaimed nat. "man overboard!" he loudly cried, thinking some one on the dock or aboard the vessels might hear him and come to help aid in rescuing the imperiled one. but there came no answer. the pier seemed to be deserted. nat reached the deck of the first barge and rushed across it to the farthermost rail. he tried to peer down into the black space between the two freight boats, but he could see nothing. "where are you?" he called again. "here! right here!" was the answer. "i fell down in between the two barges. i got hold of a rope, but it slipped from me a moment ago, and i went under. i managed to get hold of it again when i came up, but i can't last much longer. hurry and help me!" "i will!" exclaimed nat. "i'm coming down as soon as i can find a rope to cling to. there isn't room to swim down there." "no; that's right. i can hardly move. but i can't hold on much longer." "don't give up!" yelled nat. "i'll be right there. queer there isn't some of the crew here," he murmured to himself. he glanced rapidly about him. there was a lantern burning high up on the smokestack of one of the barges, which were of the latest type, with big engines to turn the large propellers. it was the work of but an instant for nat to loosen the lantern rope from the cleat and lower the light to the deck. then cutting the rope, as the quickest method of detaching it from the stack, he hurried with it to the space between the two barges. he lowered the light, and by its gleam saw an elderly man clinging to a rope that dangled from the side of the barge the boy was on. "that's good; show a light!" exclaimed the man. "now you can see what to do. but please hurry. my arms are nearly pulled from the sockets." "i'll have to get a rope that will bear my weight," replied nat. "hold on a moment more." he fastened the lantern cord to the rail, so that the light would hang down in the space between the two vessels. then he got a long rope, a simple enough matter aboard a vessel. securing one end to a stanchion, nat threw the other end down between the barges. then giving the cable a yank, to see that it was secure, he went down it hand over hand. "i'll have you out of here now in short order," he said to the half-exhausted man. "can you pull yourself up by the rope?" "i'm afraid not. i'm too weak." this was a problem nat had not considered. he thought for a moment. he was a bright lad, and his life about the docks had made him resourceful in emergencies. "i have it!" he exclaimed. "hold on just a few seconds more." twining his legs about the cable to support himself, nat with one hand made a loop in the rope, using a knot that would not slip. thus he had a support for his feet. standing in the loop he quickly made another below it, for the rope was plenty long enough. "there!" he cried to the man. "work your arms into that and then get your head and shoulders through. put it under your arm-pits, and that will support you until i can haul you up." "good idea," murmured the man weakly. with one hand he grasped the loop which nat let down to him. he evidently was used to cables, for he knew how to handle this one, and in a few seconds he had his head and arms through the loop. this supported him so that he was out of water up to his waist. "i'll have you out in another minute," declared nat as he scrambled up the rope hand over hand, until he was once more on the deck of the barge. then he tried to pull the man up by hauling on the rope, but he found the task too great for his strength. "i'll have to get help," he said. "no, no! don't leave me!" begged the man. "just lower me another rope, and i can pull myself up." nat understood the plan. quickly running to the other side of the barge, he found a long cable. this he fastened as he had done the first, and he let the length of it dangle between the two vessels so that the man could reach it. "pull now!" called the man. hauling on the rope about the stranger's shoulders, while the latter aided himself in the work of rescue by pulling on the second rope, the rescued one was soon on the deck of the barge beside nat. he was so weak that he sank down in a heap as soon as he was over the rail. "are you hurt? can i get you anything? do you belong aboard this barge?" asked the boy. "no--no, my lad," said the man slowly. "i'll be all right in a few minutes. i'm exhausted, that's all. my name is weatherby----" "what, john weatherby, the pilot of the _jessie drew_?" asked nat, who knew a number of pilots by their names. "that's who i am, my lad. you may think it queer that a pilot should fall overboard, but i'll tell you how it happened. first, however, let me thank you with all my heart for what you did for me. but for you i would have been drowned." "oh, i guess not." "yes, i would. i couldn't have held on much longer, as i'm getting old and i'm not as strong as i was." "some one else would have come to your aid." "i don't know about that. there is no one aboard either of the barges. i didn't know that, or i shouldn't have come here to-night. that vessel over there has gone out of commission, and there is no one aboard her. there's a watchman on the pier, but he didn't hear me calling for help. you saved my life, and i'll not forget it." "i am glad i was able to," responded nat. "what is your name?" asked the pilot. he seemed to be feeling better. "i'm nat morton." "nat morton! i've heard of you. why, you're the boy who got the rowboat out of the way of the vessel i was bringing in the other day, aren't you?" "i guess i am." "well, i've wanted to meet you to thank you for that. then, before i get a chance to do it, you do me another favor. i heard about you from a friend of mine--a pilot. he said you were always about the docks." "yes, i spend a good deal of my time here. i get occasional jobs, and i like the ships." "so do i, my lad. the lakes are wonderful bodies of water." "but hadn't you better go home?" suggested nat. "you're wet, and, though it's a warm night, you may take cold. it's going to rain," he added, as a flash of lightning came. "yes, i will go home if you will help me." "i will, gladly. where do you live?" "i board near here, as it's handy for my business. the _jessie drew_ is to sail day after to-morrow. i came down here to-night to see a friend of mine, who is captain of one of these grain barges, the second one over there. i didn't know that he and his crew, as well as all those on this barge we're on, had gone ashore. i started to cross from one barge to the other, and i fell down between them. i called and called, but it seemed as if help would never come." "i'm glad i happened to be passing," replied nat. "now, if you feel able, we'll go ashore." "yes, i'm all right now. i'll go to my boarding place and get some dry things. do you work around here?" "i help mr. miller--he's the man i live with--whenever i can. he's working to-night, helping unload a vessel that was delayed by the storm." "yes, it's blowing quite hard. i didn't notice it so much down between those barges, but now i feel quite chilly. so you work on the pier, eh?" "whenever i can get anything to do. but i'd like to get a job on a steamer." "you would, eh? what kind?" "well, i'd like to be a pilot, but i suppose i'd have to work my way up. i'd be willing to start at almost anything, if i could get on a vessel." "you would, eh?" said the pilot, and then he seemed to be busily thinking. the two walked down the gangplank and off the pier, meeting no one, for the wind, and an occasional dash of rain, made it unpleasant to be out, and the watchman was probably snugly sitting in some sheltered place. "this is my boarding place," said mr. weatherby at length, as they came to a small house on a street leading up from the lake front. "i can't properly thank you now, but--i wish you'd come and see me to-morrow, when you're not working," he added. "i'll be glad to call and find out how you are." "oh, i'll be all right. now, be sure to come, i--i may have some good news for you." and with that the old pilot went into the house, leaving a very much wondering youth on the sidewalk. chapter iv getting a job "now, why in the world didn't he tell me what he wanted of me, instead of keeping me guessing?" thought nat, as he made his way back to the dock where mr. miller was working. "i wonder what it can be? if he wanted to thank me he could just as well have done it now as to-morrow. "maybe he wants to give me a reward," the boy went on musingly. "i don't believe i'd take it. accepting money for rescuing a boat is all well enough, but not for saving life. besides, if i hadn't done it somebody else would. no; if he offers me money i don't believe i'll take it. still, i do need some new clothes," and he glanced down at the rather ragged garments he was wearing. "i've been waiting for you some time," mr. miller said when nat got back. "i thought you said you wouldn't be gone long on that errand." "neither i was." "what kept you, then?" "well, i had to rescue a man." "rescue a man? are you joking?" "not a bit of it. i pulled mr. weatherby, the pilot, out from between two barges." and nat proceeded to relate his adventure. "well, things are certainly coming your way," remarked mr. miller. "maybe he'll give you a big reward." "i'd rather he'd give me a good job," returned nat. "maybe he could get me a place on some boat. that's what i'd like. i could earn good money then." "i wouldn't like to see you go away from us, nat. my wife and i have become quite attached to you." "i would not like to go, mr. miller, for i have been very happy in your home. so i'm not going to think about it." "still, i would like to see you prosper in this world," went on the man who had befriended nat. "if you have a chance to get a place on a boat, take it. you may be able to come and see us once in a while, between trips." "i will always consider my home at your house." "i hope you will, nat." "still, nothing may happen," went on the boy. "did you get the ship all unloaded?" "yes, the holds are emptied, and i have a job to-morrow helping load her. i guess you could get something to do if you came down." "then i shall." "but i thought you were going to call on mr. weatherby?" "i am, but he told me to come when i was not working. he is going to be home all day." "that will be all right, then. now let's hurry home. i think it's going to rain harder soon, and my wife will probably be worrying about me." the storm, which had been a fitful one all day and part of the night, showed signs of becoming worse. the wind was more violent, and when mr. miller and nat were nearly home it began to rain in torrents. the rain continued all the next day, but as the wharf where mr. miller and nat worked was a covered one, they did not mind the storm. at noon-time the boy found a chance to go to the boarding-house of mr. weatherby. "well, here comes my life-saver!" greeted the old pilot. "how are you feeling to-day?" "very well, sir. how are you?" "not so good as i might be. i'm lame and stiff from pulling on that rope, but i think i'll be able to sail to-morrow. i believe you told me last night that you would like a job on a ship," the pilot went on. "yes, sir," replied nat, his heart beating high with hope. "hum! well, what kind of a job would you like--pilot or captain?" "i think i'd rather begin a little lower down," replied nat with a smile, for he saw that mr. weatherby was joking. "perhaps that would be best. well, as it happens, i have a chance to get a young lad a position on the steamer of which i am pilot. you see, i have a steady job piloting. my vessel, the _jessie drew_, makes trips all over the lakes, and captain wilson marshall, who is a part owner, is not so familiar with all the harbors and the various routes as i am. so he engages me steadily. in fact, he and i are old friends, as well as distantly related; so i have a somewhat different position than do most pilots." "and can you get me a job on a boat--your boat?" asked nat eagerly. "i think i can. i may say i am sure i can. the captain asked me yesterday to look out for a bright youth to help with the cargo, assist the purser, and be a sort of cabin assistant. i had no one in mind then, but after our meeting last night, when you were of such service to me, and i heard you say you wanted a job, i at once thought of this place. i saw the captain this morning, and he has practically engaged you--that is, if you want the berth, and he is satisfied with you when he sees you. the last item i know will be all right. and now it is for you to say whether you want the place." "want it? of course i want it! i can't tell you how much obliged i am to you for this! i----" "now--now--don't get excited over it," cautioned mr. weatherby. "if you're going to be a pilot you must learn to keep cool. shall i tell captain marshall you'll take the place?" "yes, and be glad to." "not quite so fast. why don't you ask me what the wages are, and how long you'll have to work?" "that's so. i didn't think of that. but i don't mind how long i have to work. it can't be much longer than i have to work now, and i get very little for it." "then i guess you will be satisfied with the hours and the wages paid aboard the _jessie drew_. when can you come?" "any time. i am not regularly hired at the dock." "then perhaps you had better stop now, go home and get ready. we will sail early to-morrow. bring along a change of clothes, for it often happens you'll get wet through in a storm, or when the lake is rough." "i'm afraid i can't do that," said nat slowly, as a change came over his face. "why not?" "well--er--that is--you see, i haven't any other clothes. these are all i've got. mr. and mrs. miller are very poor. her husband doesn't earn much, and i don't, either. it takes all we both get to buy food and pay the rent. i don't have any left for clothes. they're not good enough to go on board the boat with. i'm afraid i can't take the job." "there is no use denying that the clothes might be better," admitted mr. weatherby gravely. "not that i care anything about what garments a man or boy wears, so long as they are clean, and yours are that. still, i think it would make a better impression on captain marshall if you were to have a newer suit. i'll tell you what i'll do. here, you take this money and go and get yourself a good suit and some underwear, and whatever else you need." "i can't take your money--i haven't earned it," objected nat, who was quite independent. "nonsense, boy. take it as a loan, then, to be paid back whenever you feel like it. it's a pity if i can't do a good turn to the lad who pulled me up from between those vessels. you will offend me if you don't take it. besides, i want you to have this job. i may need you to save my life again, and, to be frank with you, i shouldn't like captain marshall to see the boy i recommended in such clothes, though, as i said, personally i don't care a rap about them." "all right," replied nat quietly. "if you put it that way i'll borrow this money." "that's the way to talk. now you'd better go, buy what you need, and then come back to me this evening," went on mr. weatherby, handing nat some bankbills. "i will then take you down to the ship and introduce you to captain marshall. you'll probably stay aboard all night, so you had better tell your friends good-by." "where is the ship going to?" "i don't know exactly. we'll probably call at several lake ports to unload or take on cargo. now you'd better go, and be back here about seven o'clock." nat hurried back to the wharf to tell mr. miller the good news. his friend rejoiced with him, though he was sorry to see the boy leave. when nat reached the tenement and told mrs. miller, that lady cried a little, for she had grown to love the boy almost as a son. she went out shopping with him, and in a few hours nat was ready to step aboard the _jessie drew_ and take a long voyage. it was not easy to part from his kind friends, but he was consoled by the thought that he would soon see them again. at the appointed hour he was at mr. weatherby's boarding-house, and a little later the two were going aboard the big lake steamer. "ah, mr. weatherby!" exclaimed a man as nat and the pilot stepped on the deck, "you're aboard early, i see." "yes; i didn't want to get left. mr. bumstead, let me introduce a friend of mine to you. he did me a great service. this is nat morton. nat, this is mr. bumstead, the first mate." nat shook hands with the mate. that official was not a very kindly looking person. he had red hair, and he seemed surly, even when he smiled, which was not often. "is he going to take a voyage with you?" asked the mate of the pilot. "yes. he's going to help out in the purser's office. i got him the job." "you did!" exclaimed the mate. "yes. what of it? you seem quite surprised, mr. bumstead. i recommended nat for the place because he saved my life." "has captain marshall given him the place?" asked the mate in a surly tone. "yes. why?" "because i had recommended my nephew for the place, and he would have got it, too, if you hadn't interfered. i'm going to see the captain about it later. it's not fair, giving a landlubber a good job aboard this ship. i'll have him put ashore. i told my nephew he could have the job, and he's going to get it!" with that the mate strode off, muttering to himself. "i'm sorry about that," said mr. weatherby in a low voice. "i didn't know he had any one for the place. nat, i'm afraid he'll make trouble for you. you'll have to be on your guard, but i'll do all i can for you." "i guess i can look out for myself," replied the boy. "i haven't lived around the docks all my life for nothing." but nat did not know the perils that were in store for him, nor to what lengths the vindictive mate would go to be revenged. chapter v nat in trouble captain marshall proved to be a kind man, but rather strict in his views. the pilot introduced nat to him, and the commander of the _jessie drew_ gravely shook hands with the lad. "i have heard about you," he said, and nat began to think he was getting to be a person of some importance. "i saw what you did the day that drifting rowboat got in our way, though, at the time, i didn't know it was you. mr. weatherby has told me what you did for him, and i must congratulate you on your quickness and wit in an emergency. that is what we need on a vessel. "the purser will tell you what to do. you must remember one thing aboard a ship, especially when we're out on the lake; the thing to do is to obey orders at once, and ask the reason for them afterward. i expect you to do that. if you do you'll not get into trouble. i shall have a friendly eye on you, and i trust you will do as well as the pilot thinks you will. now you may report to the purser, who really is more of a supercargo than he is a purser. he'll find plenty for you to do." "yes, sir," replied nat, wondering just what his duties would be. he knew where to find the man who was to be his immediate superior, for on the way to the captain's cabin mr. weatherby had pointed out to nat where the purser's office was. "oh, yes; you're the new boy," said the purser, whose name was george dunn. "well, come into my office, and i'll show you part of what you'll have to do during the voyage." it was fortunate that nat knew something about ships and the terms used aboard them, or he would have been sadly confused by what mr. dunn told him. as it was, much that he heard he did not comprehend. he found that part of his duties were to make out lists of the freight, enter the shipments on bills, put them in various books, check up manifests and way-bills, and help the purser verify the freight as it was taken on or put off. luckily nat had had a fair education before his father died, and he could write a good hand and read excellently. he was not very accurate at figures, but he was bright and quick to learn. "i guess that will do for to-night," said mr. dunn when it came nine o'clock. "i had most of the stuff checked up before you came aboard, or there'd have been more to do. however, we'll manage to keep you busy in the morning." "i wonder if i'll ever get a chance to learn to be a pilot?" said nat, for the purser seemed so friendly that he ventured to speak to him of that pet ambition. "i shouldn't wonder. we're not very busy once we get loaded up, and often when sailing between ports a long distance apart there is little to do for days at a time. if you want to learn navigation, and mr. weatherby will teach you, i don't see why you can't do it." "i hope i can." "come on, and i'll show you where you'll bunk," went on mr. dunn. "you want to turn out lively at six bells in the morning." "that's seven o'clock," observed nat. "right you are, my hearty. i see you know a little something about a ship. that's good. oh, i guess you'll get along all right." it seemed to nat that he had not been asleep at all when six strokes on a bell, given in the way that sailors ring the time, with short, double blows, awoke him. he dressed hurriedly, had his breakfast with the others of the crew, and then did what he could to help the purser, who had to check up some boxes that arrived at the last minute, just before the ship sailed. a little later, amid what seemed a confusion of orders, the _jessie drew_ moved away down the river, and nat was taking his first voyage on lake michigan as a hand on a ship--a position he had long desired to fill, but which hitherto had seemed beyond his wildest dreams. "how do you like it?" asked mr. weatherby, a little later, as he passed the boy on his way to the pilot-house. "fine." "i'm glad of it. attend strictly to business, and you'll get along. i'll keep you in mind, and whenever i get a chance i'll take you into the pilot-house, and begin to instruct you in the method of steering a ship." "i'll be ever so much obliged to you if you will." "why, that's nothing, after what you did for me," replied mr. weatherby, with a kind smile at nat. as sailing on large vessels was not much of a novelty to nat, except of late years, since his father's death, he did not linger long on deck, watching the various sights as the freighter plowed her way out on lake michigan. he went to the purser's office, to see if there was anything that needed to be done. he had temporarily forgotten about the mate's threat to have him discharged. as nat drew near the place, he heard voices in dispute, and, when he entered, he was surprised to see the first mate, mr. bumstead, standing at the purser's desk, shaking his fist in the air. "i tell you those boxes are not aboard!" exclaimed the mate. "and i say they are," replied the purser firmly. "they are down on my list as being taken on this morning, and--er--what's his name--that new boy--nat--nat morton checked them off. you can see for yourself." "oh, he checked 'em off, did he?" asked the mate, in altered tones. "now i begin to see where the trouble is. we'll ask him----?" "here he is now," interrupted mr. dunn, as nat entered. "did you check up these boxes?" he asked, and he handed a part of the cargo list to nat. "yes, sir. they were the last things that came aboard this morning." "i told you so!" exclaimed mr. dunn, turning to the mate. "wait a minute," went on that officer. "he says he checked 'em off, but i don't believe he did. if he did, where are they? they can't have fallen overboard, and i didn't eat 'em, i'm sure of that." "i checked those boxes off as you called them to me, mr. bumstead," replied nat. "you stood near the forward cargo hold, and the boxes were stowed away there. i was careful in putting them down on my list." "yes! too careful, i guess!" exclaimed the mate angrily. "you've got down ten more boxes than came aboard. that's a nice mess to make of it! but i knew how it would be if the captain took a greenhorn aboard! why didn't he get some one who knew how to check a cargo?" "i know how to check a cargo," replied nat quietly. "i say you don't! there are ten boxes missing, and you've got to find them, that's all there is about it!" "everything down on my list came aboard," insisted nat. "well, those ten boxes didn't, and i know it. you made a mistake, that's what you did, or else you let the boxes fall overboard, and you're afraid to admit it." "no boxes fell overboard when i was checking up, mr. bumstead." "well, where are those ten missing ones then?" "i don't know." "of course you don't. and no one else does. you made a mistake, that's all, and it's going to be a bad one. it puts me to a lot of work. i'll have to check over all my lists to make up for your blunder." "i made no blunder." "i say you did, and i'm going to report you to captain marshall. i'm not going to work with a greenhorn, who don't know enough to check up a simple list. i'll report you, that's what i'll do, and we'll see how long you'll have a berth on this ship!" angrily muttering to himself, the mate started for the captain's cabin, while poor nat, much distressed over the trouble into which he had gotten, stood dejectedly in the purser's office. chapter vi an unexpected discovery "don't let him worry you," said mr. dunn consolingly. "he's a surly fellow, and he's always interfering in my department." "but the captain may discharge me," replied nat. "still, i am sure those boxes came aboard. i counted them carefully and i don't believe i would be ten out of the way." "of course not. probably the mate stowed them in some other place and he's forgotten all about it. they'll turn up." "i hope so, for i would not like to make a mistake the first day out." at that moment a deckhand came up to where nat stood talking to the purser. "captain wants to see you," he said to the boy. "don't get excited now," advised mr. dunn. "here, take our checking list with you and tell the captain exactly how it happened. if you are sure the boxes came aboard say so--and stick to it." "i will," answered nat, and, with rather an uneasy feeling, he went aft to where the captain's cabin was located. he found the mate there, looking quite excited, while captain marshall was far from calm. evidently there had been high words between the men. "what is this, nat?" asked the captain. "the mate says he is short ten boxes. you have them on your list as coming aboard, but they are not to be found. you know that will make trouble, to have anything wrong with the cargo." "i'm sure nothing is wrong," replied nat. "i went over my list carefully, and i am positive the boxes are on board." "and i say they're not," insisted the mate. "i guess i've been in this business long enough to know more than a green lad who has only been here a day." "you want to be careful, nat," went on captain marshall. "i have always depended on mr. bumstead in regard to matters connected with the stowing of the cargo." "i am sure those boxes are aboard, sir," went on nat firmly. "if you will allow me to take a look i think i can find them." "what! go through all the cargo after it's stowed away!" exclaimed the angry mate. "i guess not much! i'll not allow it!" the door of the cabin opened and there entered the pilot, mr. weatherby. he started back on seeing the mate and nat. "oh, excuse me," he said. "i didn't know you had any one in here, captain marshall." "that's all right, come right in," replied the commander. "there's a little difficulty between nat and mr. bumstead, and i'm trying to straighten it out." he related what had taken place, and told of the missing boxes. "and there you are," he finished. "it seems to be quite a mix-up, and i'm sorry, for i like to keep my cargo and the records of it straight." "hum," murmured the pilot. "mr. bumstead says the boxes are not here, and nat says they came aboard, eh? well, i should think the easiest way would be to look and see if they are here or not." "that's what i proposed," exclaimed nat eagerly. "yes! i guess i'll have you disturbing the whole cargo to look for ten small boxes!" exclaimed the mate. "not much i won't! i'm right, and i know it!" "no, i think nat is right," said mr. weatherby quietly. "do you mean to tell me i made a mistake?" inquired mr. bumstead. "i don't know whether you did or not. but i know nat's plan is the only one that can decide the matter. if the boxes came aboard the last thing, they can't be very far down among the rest of the cargo. it will not take long to look. what do you say, captain?" captain marshall was in a sort of quandary. the mate was his chief officer, and he wanted to be on his side because mr. bumstead owned some shares in the ship, and also because mr. bumstead relieved the commander of a lot of work that, otherwise, would have fallen to the share of the captain. on the other hand mr. marshall did not want to offend the pilot. in addition to being a relative of his, mr. weatherby was one of the stockholders in the company which owned the steamer _jessie drew_, and, as the captain was an employee of this company, he did not want to oppose one of the officers of it. "i suppose that's the only way out of it," the captain finally said, though with no very good grace. "only the whole cargo must not be upset looking for those boxes." "i'll be careful," promised nat. "i think i know where they were stowed." "um! you think you do, but you'll soon find you're much mistaken!" said the mate scornfully. "i'll give you a hand," said the pilot. "mr. simmon, my helper, is in the pilot-house," he went on, in answer to a questioning glance from captain marshall. "the ship is on a straight course now, and we'll hold it for an hour or two. now, nat, come on, and we'll see if we can't solve this puzzle." it did not take long to demonstrate that nat was right, and the mate wrong. the ten boxes were found in the afterhold, where they had been put by mistake, which accounted for the mate not being able to find them. "what have you to say now?" asked the pilot of mr. bumstead, when the search was so successfully ended. "what have i to say? nothing, except that i think you did a mean thing when you got this boy in here, and kept my nephew out of the place, which he needs so much. but i'll get even with him yet for coming here." it appeared the mate's protest to captain marshall, about employing nat, had been of no effect. "i guess nat needed a place to work as much as did your nephew," replied mr. weatherby, when his _protã©gã©_ had gone back to the purser's cabin. "his father is dead, and you ought to be glad that the orphan son of an old lake sailor has a chance to earn his living, instead of making it hard for him." "was his father a lake sailor?" asked the mate quickly. "yes. nat's father was james morton, who was employed on a lumber barge." "james morton! on a lumber barge!" exclaimed the mate, turning pale. "are you sure of that?" "certainly. but what of it? did you know mr. morton?" "jim morton," murmured the mate. "i might have recognized the name. so his son is aboard this vessel! i must do something, or----" "what was that you said?" asked the pilot, who had not caught the mate's words. "nothing--i--er--i thought i used to know his father--but--but it must be another man." the mate was clearly very much excited over something. "now look here!" exclaimed mr. weatherby sternly. "nat is not to blame for coming here. i got him the place, and i'll look out for him, too. if you try any of your tricks i'll take a hand in the game myself. now, i've given you your course, and i want you to keep on it. if you run afoul of me you'll be sorry for it." the mate turned aside, muttering to himself, but the pilot thought it was because he had made a mistake about the boxes. "look out for him, nat," said mr. weatherby, a little later, after the pilot had reported to the captain the result of the search for the missing boxes. "he seems to have some grudge against you, and he'll do you an injury if he can." "i believe that," replied nat, "though i can't see why he should. i never injured him, and it was not my fault that i got the place he wanted for his nephew." "no, of course not. but keep your weather eye open." "i will." captain marshall showed no very great pleasure at finding that nat was in the right. the truth was he feared the mate would be chagrined over the mistake he himself had made, and captain marshall was the least bit afraid of mr. bumstead, for the commander knew the mate was aware of certain shortcomings in regard to the management of the vessel, and he feared his chief officer might disclose them. "you want to be careful of your lists," the commander said to nat. "you were right this time, but next time you might be wrong." nat's pleasure at finding he had not made a mistake was a little dampened by the cool way in which the captain took it, but mr. weatherby told him not to mind, but to do his work as well as he could, and he would get along all right. for two or three days after that the voyage proceeded quietly. on the third day the ship stopped at a small city, where part of the cargo was discharged. nat and the purser were kept busy checking off, and verifying cargo lists, and, when the _jessie drew_ was ready to proceed, nat took to the mate a duplicate list of what cargo had been discharged. "sure this is right?" asked mr. bumstead surlily. "yes, sir," replied nat, more pleasantly than he felt. "don't be too sure, young man. i'll catch you in a mistake yet, and when i do--well, look out--that's all." he tossed the list on his desk, and, as he did so, some papers slipped to the floor of his office. he stooped to pick them up, and something dropped from his pocket. it was a flat leather book, such as is used by some men in which to carry their money or papers. nat idly glanced at it as the mate restored it to his pocket. then the boy caught sight of something that made his heart beat quickly. for printed in gold letters on the outside of the wallet was a name, and the name was that of his dead father, james morton! "that pocketbook! where did you get it?" he eagerly asked of the mate. "pocketbook? what pocketbook?" "the one that dropped from your pocket just now." "that? why, that's mine. i've had it a good while." "but it has my father's name on it! i saw it. it is just like one he used to carry. he always had it with him. let me see it. perhaps it has some of his papers in it!" nat was excited. he reached out his hand, as if to take the wallet. "you must be dreaming," exclaimed the mate, and nat noticed that his hands trembled. "that is my pocketbook. it has no name on it." "but i saw it," insisted nat. "i tell you it hasn't! are you always going to dispute with me? now get out of here, i want to do my work," and the mate fairly thrust nat out of the room, and locked the door. "i'm sure that was my father's pocketbook," murmured the boy, as he walked slowly along the deck. "how did the mate get it? i wonder if he knew my father? there is something queer about this. i must tell mr. weatherby." nat would have thought there was something exceedingly queer about it, if he could have seen what the mate was doing just then. for mr. bumstead had taken the wallet from his pocket, and, with his knife, he was carefully scraping away the gold letters that spelled the name of james morton--nat's father. chapter vii nat has an accident nat vainly tried to recall some of the circumstances connected with his father's death, that would give him a clue to the reason why the mate had mr. morton's pocketbook. but the trouble was nat could remember very little. the sad news had stunned him so that he was in a sort of dream for a long time afterward. the body had been recovered, after several days, but there was nothing in the pockets of the clothes, as far as nat knew, to indicate that mr. morton had left any money, or anything that represented it. yet nat knew his father was a careful and saving man, who had good abilities for business. "if i wasn't sure it was his pocketbook, i would say that there might be plenty of such wallets, with the name james morton on them," thought nat. "the name is not an uncommon one, but i can't be mistaken in thinking that was poor dad's wallet. how the mate got it is a mystery, unless he took it from my father. or, perhaps dad gave it to him, yet i don't believe he would do that either, for he once told me the wallet was a present from mother, and i know he would not part with it. i must consult with mr. weatherby." nat did not get a chance to speak to the pilot about the matter until the next day. mr. weatherby looked grave when he heard our hero's story. "are you sure you weren't mistaken?" he asked. "positive," was nat's answer. "i knew that wallet too well." "then i'll make some inquiries. suppose you come with me." nat and the pilot found the mate in his office, looking over some papers. "nat thinks you have something that belonged to his father," said mr. weatherby, pleasantly. "he does, eh?" snapped the mate. "well, he's mistaken, that's all i've got to say. now i wish you'd get out of here. i'm busy." "but it won't do any harm to make some inquiries," went on the pilot. "do you mind showing me the pocketbook?" "there it is!" said mr. bumstead suddenly, pulling the wallet in question from his pocket. "he said it had his father's name on? well, it hasn't, you can see for yourself," and he quickly turned the pocketbook from side to side, to show that there were no letters on it. then, without giving mr. weatherby a chance to look at it closely, he thrust it back into his pocket. "are you satisfied?" he demanded. nat hesitated. "i--i suppose so," answered the pilot. "there is no name on that. nat must have been mistaken." "i told him he was dreaming," answered the mate, with a leer. "now don't bother me again." "are you sure you saw the name on that pocketbook?" asked mr. weatherby of nat when they were out on the main deck. "positive." "perhaps it was some other wallet." "no, it's the same one. i can tell because there's a dark spot on one corner, where it got some oil on once, dad told me." "but his name is not on it," remarked the pilot. "i had a good enough look at it to determine that." "i can't account for it," went on nat, more puzzled than ever. he knew he had seen the name, yet now, when he had another sight of the wallet, it had disappeared. and no wonder, for the mate had done his work well, and had so smoothed down the leather, where he had scraped off the letters, that it needed a close inspection to disclose it. this close inspection mr. bumstead was determined neither nat nor the pilot should make. though he said nothing to nat about it, mr. weatherby had some suspicions concerning the mate. for a long time he had distrusted the man, but this was because of certain things that had occurred aboard the _jessie drew_. now there was something else. mr. weatherby questioned nat closely as to the incidents connected with mr. morton's death. when he had learned all he could he remained a few moments in deep thought. then he said: "well, nat, don't think any more about it. it is very possible you were mistaken about the pocketbook. that form of wallet is not uncommon, and of course there are lots of men with the same name your father had. why the mate should have a pocketbook, with some other name on it than his own, i can't explain. but we'll let matters lie quietly for a while. if you see or hear anything more out of the ordinary, let me know." "i will," promised nat; and then he had to go to do some work in the captain's office. "i think you will bear watching, mr. bumstead," murmured the pilot, as he went back to take the wheel. "i don't like your ways, and i'm going to keep my eye on you." on his part the mate, after the visit of nat and mr. weatherby, was in a somewhat anxious mood. "i wish that boy had never come aboard," he mused. "i might have known he would make trouble. i must be more careful. if i had only been a few hours sooner my nephew would have had the place, and i would not have to worry. never mind. i may be able to get him here yet, but i must first get nat out of the way. he is too suspicious, and that sneaking pilot is helping him. still, they know nothing of the case, nor how i got the wallet, and i'll not give it up without a fight. i must hide that pocketbook, though. lucky i got the name off, or i'd be in a pretty pickle. if i had known he was jim morton's son i would almost have given up my place, rather than be on the same boat with him. but it's too late now." he placed the wallet in a secret drawer in his safe, and then went on with his work, but it seemed that his attention was distracted, and several times he found himself staring out of his cabin window at nothing at all. nat tried to follow the pilot's advice, and give no more thought to the memento of his father which he had so unexpectedly discovered, but it was hard work. for the next few days he was kept very busy. captain marshall found plenty of tasks for him, and, with running errands for the commander and the two mates, attending to what the purser had for him to do, and rendering occasional services for the pilot, the lad found himself continually occupied. he was learning more about ships than he ever knew before, and on one or two occasions mr. weatherby took him into the pilot-house, and gave him preliminary instructions in the exacting calling of steering big vessels. the freighter had stopped at several ports, taking on cargo at some, and discharging it at others. all this made work for nat, but he liked it, for he was earning more than he had ever received before. "nat," said mr. dunn, one day, "i wish you would go down into the forward hold, and check over those bales we took on at the last port. we've got to deliver them at the next stop, and i want to be sure the shipping marks on them correspond to the marks on my list. i had to put them down in a hurry." "all right," answered the boy. "here are the manifest slips all written up, mr. dunn," and he handed the purser some blanks, filled in with figures. "that's good. you are doing very well, nat keep at it and you'll get a better job soon." taking a lantern nat went down into the forward hold, to examine some bales of goods, in accordance with the purser's instructions. the bales were heavy ones, but they had been stowed away in such a manner that the shipping marks were in sight. as nat left the purser's office a man, who had been standing near a window that opened into it, moved away. the man was the mate, mr. bumstead, and as he saw nat disappear below the deck he muttered: "i think this is just the chance i want. we'll see how that whipper-snapper will like his job after to-day." while nat was checking off the bales, finding only one or two slight errors in the list the purser had given him, he heard a noise forward in the dark hold. "who's there?" he asked, for it was against the rules for any one to enter the cargo hold, unless authorized by the captain, mate or purser. no answer was returned, and nat was beginning to think the noise was made by rats, for there were very large ones in the ship. then he heard a sound he knew could not have been made by a rodent. it was the sound of some one breathing heavily. "is any one here?" asked nat. "i shall report this to the purser if you don't answer," he threatened. still no reply came to him. "perhaps it is one of the sailors who has crawled in here to get a sleep," nat thought. "maybe i'd better not say anything, for he might be punished." he listened, but the sound, whatever it was, did not come again. the hold was quiet, save for the slight shifting of the cargo, as the vessel rocked to and fro under the action of the waves. "there, all done but one bale," said nat, half aloud, "and that one is turned wrong so i can't see the marks. never mind, it's a top one, and i can easily shift it, as it's small." he climbed up on a tier of the cargo, first setting his lantern down in a safe place, and then he proceeded to move the bale around. hardly had he touched it when the big package seemed to tumble outward toward him. he felt himself falling backward, and vainly threw out his hands to grasp some support. farther and farther the bale toppled outward, until it struck against nat, and knocked him from his feet. he fell to the floor of the hold, in a little aisle between two tiers of freight, and the bale was on top of him. [illustration: "he fell to the floor of the hold"] he heard a crash of glass, and knew that the lantern had been tipped over and broken. then everything was dark, and he heard a strange ringing in his ears. nat had been knocked unconscious alone down in the big hold, but, worse than this, a tiny tongue of fire, from the exposed lantern wick, was playing on the bales of inflammable stuff. chapter viii in the pilot-house about half an hour after mr. dunn had sent nat into the hold the purser began to wonder what kept the boy. he knew his task should not have taken him more than ten minutes, for nat was prompt with whatever he had to do. "i hope he isn't going to do the way one boy did i used to have," said the purser to himself, "go down there and sleep. i think i'll take a look. maybe he can't find those bales, though they were in plain sight." as he started toward the hatchway, down which nat had gone, he met captain marshall, who, as was his custom, was taking a stroll about the ship, to see that everything was all right. he never trusted entirely to his officers. when he saw the purser, mr. marshall came to a sudden stop, and began to sniff the air suspiciously. "don't you smell smoke, mr. dunn?" he asked. the purser took several deep breaths. "i certainly do," he replied, "and it seems to come from this hatch. i sent nat down there a while ago, to check off some bales." "i hope he isn't smoking cigarettes down there," said the captain quickly. "if he is, i'll discharge him instantly." "nat doesn't smoke," replied mr. dunn. "but it's queer why he stays down there so long. i'm going to take a look." "i'll go with you," decided the captain. no sooner had they started to descend the hatchway than they both were made aware that the smell of smoke came from the hold, and that it was growing stronger. "fire! there's a fire in the cargo!" exclaimed captain marshall. "sound the alarm, mr. dunn, while i go below and make an investigation. if it's been caused by that boy----" he did not finish, but hurried down into the hold, while mr. dunn sounded the alarm that called the crew to fire quarters. meanwhile, nat had been lying unconscious under the bale for about ten minutes. the flame from the lantern, which, fortunately, had not exploded, was eating away at the side of the bale which was on top of him. luckily the stuff in the bale was slow burning, and it smoldered a long time before breaking into a flame, in spite of the fact that the lantern was right against it. considerable smoke was caused, however, though most of it was carried forward. still, enough came up the hatchway to alarm the captain and purser. it would have been very dark in the hold, but for the fact that now a tiny fire had burst out from the bale. by the gleam of this captain marshall saw what had happened. a bale had toppled from its place and smashed the lantern. but as yet he had no intimation that nat was prostrate under the bale. meanwhile the smoke was growing thicker, and it was getting into nat's nostrils. he was breathing lightly in his unconscious state, but the smoke made it harder to get his breath, and nature, working automatically, did the very best thing under the circumstances. nat sneezed and coughed so violently, in an unconscious effort to get air, that his senses came back. he could move only slightly, pinned down as he was, but he could smell the smoke, and he could see the flicker of fire. "help! help!" he cried. "fire in the hold! help! help!" that was the first knowledge captain marshall had of the whereabouts of the boy. it startled him. "where are you, nat?" he cried. "under this bale! i'm held down, and the fire is coming closer to me!" captain marshall did not stop to ask any more questions. he sprang down beside the bale, and, exerting all his strength, for he was a powerful man, he lifted it sufficiently so that nat could crawl out. the boy had only been stunned by a blow on the head. but, during this time, mr. dunn had not been idle. with the first sounding of the fire alarm, every member of the crew sprang to his appointed station, and, down in the engine-room, the engineers set in operation the powerful pumps, while other men unreeled the lines of hose, running them toward the hold, as directed by the purser. so, in less than a minute from the time of sounding the alarm, there was a stream of water being directed into the lower part of the ship where the fire was. "come on out of here!" cried the captain to nat, as he helped the boy up, and let the bale fall back into place. "this is getting pretty warm. i wonder what's the matter with the water?" hardly had he spoken than a stream came spurting into the hold, drenching them both. it also drenched the fire, and, in a few minutes, the last vestige of the blaze was out. "good work, men!" complimented captain marshall, when he had assured himself there was no more danger. "you did well. i'm proud of you." nat, who had been taken in charge by the purser, when it was found there was no danger of the fire spreading, was examined by that official. nothing was found the matter with him, beyond a sore spot on his head where the bale had hit him. "how in the world did it happen?" asked mr. dunn, as the crew began reeling up the hose, and returning to their various duties. nat told him about hearing the noise, and the bale falling. "do you think it fell, or did some one shove it?" asked the purser. "i don't know. it seemed as if some one pushed it, but who could it be? what object would any one have in trying to hurt me?" "i don't know, i'm sure. you must report this to captain marshall," said the purser. "he'll want to know all about it." there was no need of going to the captain's cabin, however, for he came to find nat, as soon as the excitement caused by the fire had subsided. "now tell me all about it," he said. "every bit. were you smoking down there?" "no, sir," replied nat indignantly. he related all that had taken place, and the captain had every member of the crew questioned, as to whether or not they had been in the hold at the time. they all denied it. "maybe it was because the bale wasn't stowed away level," suggested mr. bumstead, with a queer look at nat, as our hero, together with the purser and the pilot were in captain marshall's cabin, discussing the occurrence. "that's possible," admitted mr. dunn. "but what made the noise?" "rats, probably," replied the mate. "there are some whoppers down in that hold." "would you say they were large enough to topple over that bale?" asked the pilot suddenly. "no--no--i don't know as i would," answered the mate. "of course not. more likely the lurch of the vessel did it." "well, it was lucky it was no worse," spoke the captain. "if that lantern had exploded, and the blazing oil had been scattered about, there would have been a different ending to this. nat would probably be dead, and the ship a wreck. after this no lanterns are to be carried into the hold. have some electric lights rigged up on long wires, so they can be taken in," he added to the mate, who promised to see that it was done. "hum," remarked mr. weatherby, as he and nat walked toward the pilot-house. "you can't make me believe a lurch of the ship loosened that bale so it fell. bumstead doesn't stow his cargo in such a careless fashion. he's too good a sailor." "what do you think then?" asked nat. "i think some one pushed that bale down." "do you think the person wanted to hurt me?" "i can't say as to that. it may have been done by accident, by a sailor asleep in the hold. certainly no rat did it," and the pilot smiled. but he was more worried than he would admit to nat. "i am glad i got out." "i don't suppose you feel much like taking a lesson in navigation?" "oh, i'm always ready for that," was the answer. "i'm all right now. my head has stopped aching." "then come into the pilot-house with me, and i will explain a few more things to you. i think you have a natural talent for this sort of life, and i like to show to boys, who appreciate it, the different things there are to learn. for there are a good many of them, and it's going to take you a long time." nat had no false notions about learning to be a pilot. he knew it would take him several years to be a capable one, but he determined to get a good ground work or the higher branches of it, and so he listened carefully to all that mr. weatherby told him. he learned how to read the compass and how to give the proper signals to the engineer. for a number of days he spent several hours out of the twenty-four in the pilot-house with mr. weatherby. he got an understanding of the charts of the lake, of the various signals used by other ships, to indicate the course they were on, and he learned to know the meaning of the shore signal lights, and the location of the lighthouses that marked the dangerous rocks and shoals. "you're doing very well," mr. weatherby said to him one day. "much better than i expected. some time i'll let you try your hand at steering a bit." "oh, that will be fine!" exclaimed nat, but he little knew what was going to result from it. chapter ix a narrow escape though he was much interested in beginning on his long-cherished plan of becoming a pilot, nat did not lose sight of the fact that there was some mystery concerning his father, in which the mate had a part. he had not given up his belief that mr. bumstead had mr. morton's wallet, in spite of the mate's denials. but nat saw no way by which he could get at the bottom of the matter. "i guess i'll just have to wait until chance puts something in my way," he said to himself. "at the same time i've got to be on the watch against him. i believe he, or some one of his cronies, pushed that bale on me. i don't suppose it would have killed me if it had fallen flat on me, instead of only partly, but it looks as if he wanted to drive me off of this ship. but i'll not go! i'll stay and see what comes of it." the freighter was on quite a long voyage this trip. after calling at the last port on lake michigan it was to go through the straits of mackinaw into lake huron. there, mr. weatherby told nat, it would not be such easy navigation, as there were many islands, for which a pilot had to watch, day and night. some were not indicated by lights, and only a knowledge of the lake would enable the steersman to guide a ship away from them, after dark, or during a fog. "do you think i'll ever be able to do it?" asked the boy. "some time, but i shouldn't attempt it right away," replied the pilot with a smile. remembering the promise he had made to nat, the pilot one day called the boy into the little house where the wheel was, and said: "now, nat, i'm going to give you a chance to appreciate what it means to steer a big vessel. i'll tell you just what to do, and i think you can do it. we have a clear course ahead of us, the lake is calm, and i guess you can handle the wheel all right. you know about the compass, so i don't have to tell you. now take your place here, and grasp the spokes of the wheel lightly but firmly. stand with your feet well apart, and brace yourself, for sometimes there will come a big wave that may shift the rudder and throw you off your balance." the pilot-house of the _jessie drew_ was like the pilot-houses on most other steamers. the front was mainly windows, and the center space was taken up with a big wheel, which served to shift the rudder from side to side. so large was the wheel, in order to provide sufficient leverage, that part of it was down in a sort of pit, while the steersman stood on a platform, which brought his head about on a level with the top spokes. on some of the lake steamers there was steam steering gear, and of course a much smaller wheel was used, as it merely served as a throttle to a steam-engine, which did all the hard work. nat was delighted with his chance. with shining eyes he grasped the spokes, and gently revolved the wheel a short distance. "that'll do," spoke mr. weatherby. "she's shifted enough." nat noticed that, as he turned the wheel, the vessel changed her course slightly, so readily did she answer the helm. it was a wonderful thing, he thought, that he, a mere lad, could, by a slight motion of his hands, cause a mighty ship to move about as he pleased. "it's easier than i thought it was," he remarked to his friend the pilot. "you think so now," answered mr. weatherby, "but wait until you have to handle a boat in a storm. then the waves bang the rudder about so that the wheel whirls around, and almost lifts you off your feet. more than once it's gotten away from me, though, when there's a bad storm, i have some one to help me put her over and hold her steady. i like steam steering gear best, for it's so easy, but it's likely to get out of order at a critical moment, and, before you can rig up the hand gear, the boat has gone on the rocks." "i hope we don't get wrecked on the rocks," said nat, as, following the directions he had received, he shifted the wheel slightly to keep the vessel on her proper course. "well, we'll be approaching a dangerous passage in a few hours," replied the pilot. "there are a number of rocks in it, but i think i'll be able to get clear of 'em. i always have, but this time we'll arrive there after dark, and i like daylight best when i have to go through there." "do you want to take the wheel now?" asked the boy, as he saw that mr. weatherby was peering anxiously ahead. "no, you may keep it a while longer. i just wanted to get sight of a spar buoy about here. there it is. when you come up this route you want to get the red and black buoy in line with that point, and then go to starboard two points, so." as he spoke mr. weatherby helped nat put the wheel over. the big freighter began slowly to turn, and soon was moving around a point of land that jutted far out into the lake. nat remained in the pilot-house more than an hour, and, in that time, he learned many valuable points. at the suggestion of his friend he jotted them down in a note-book, so he might go over them again at his leisure, and fix them firmly in his mind. as the afternoon wore on, and dusk approached, a fog began to settle over the lake. nat, who had been engaged with the work in the purser's office, had occasion to take a message to the pilot, and he found his friend anxiously looking out of the big windows in front of the pilot-house, while andrew simmon, the assistant, was handling the big wheel. "i don't like it, andy; i don't like it a bit," mr. weatherby was saying. "it's going to be a nasty, thick night, and just as we're beginning that risky passage. i've almost a notion to ask the captain to lay-to until morning. there's good holding ground here." "oh, i guess we can make it," replied andrew confidently. "we've done it before, in a fog." "yes, i know we have, but i always have a feeling of dread. somehow, now, i feel unusually nervous about it." "you aren't losing your nerve, are you?" the young helper asked his chief. "no--but--well, i don't like it, that's all." "shall i ask the captain to anchor?" "no, he's anxious to keep on. we'll try it, andy, but we'll both stay in the pilot-house until we're well past the dangerous point, that one where the rocks stick out." "but there's a lighthouse there, mr. weatherby." "i know there is, but if this fog keeps on getting thicker, the light will do us very little good." nat listened anxiously to the conversation. this was a part of the responsibilities of piloting that had not occurred to him. more than on a captain, the safety of a vessel rests on a pilot, when one is in charge. and it is no small matter to feel that one can, by a slight shift of his hand, send a gallant craft to her destruction, or guide her to safety. as night came on the fog grew thicker. mr. weatherby and his helper did not leave the pilot-house, but had their meals sent to them. captain marshall was in frequent consultation with them, and the speed of the vessel was cut down almost one-half as they approached the danger point. from mr. dunn, nat learned when they were in the unsafe passage, for the purser had been over that route many times. "we must be close to the point now," said mr. dunn, as he and nat stood at the rail, trying to peer through the fog. "we'll see the lighthouse soon. yes, there it is," and he pointed to where a light dimly flashed, amid the white curtain of dampness that wrapped the freighter. they could hear the lookout, stationed in the bow, call the position of the light. the course was shifted, the great boat turning slowly. suddenly there was a frightened cry from the lookout. "rocks! rocks ahead!" he yelled. "port! port your helm or we'll be upon 'em in another minute!" the ship quivered as the great rudder was shifted to swing her about. down in the engine-room there was a crash of gongs as the pilot gave the signals to stop and reverse. would the ship be turned in time? could her headway be checked? had the lookout cried his warning quickly enough? these questions were in every anxious heart aboard the _jessie drew_. a shudder seemed to run through the ship. nat peered ahead, and held his breath, as if that would lighten the weight that was rushing upon the dangerous rocks. but skill and prompt action told. slowly the freighter swept to one side, and as at slackened speed she glided past the danger point, nat and mr. dunn, from their position near the rail, could have tossed a biscuit on the rocks, so narrow was the space that separated the ship from them. chapter x sam shaw appears the vessel had not come to a stop, before orders were hurriedly given to let go the anchor. the narrow escape had decided captain marshall that it would not be safe to proceed, and, as there was good holding ground not far from the rocks, he determined to lay-to until the fog lifted. from the pilot-house came the captain, mr. weatherby, and andy simmon. the pilot was very much excited. "those were false lights, or else something is out of order with the machinery," he exclaimed. "the light on the point flashes once every five seconds. the next light, beyond the point, flashes once every fifteen seconds. this light flashed once every fifteen seconds, for andy and i both kept count." "that's right," said the assistant. "and i calculated by that," went on the pilot, "that we were beyond the point, for i couldn't see anything but the light, and i had to go by that. i was on the right course, if that light was the one beyond the point, but naturally on the wrong one if that was the point light." "and it was the point light," said the captain solemnly. "it was, mr. marshall, and only for the lookout we would now be on the rocks." "i can't blame you for the narrow escape we had," went on the commander. "still----" "of course you can't blame me!" exclaimed the pilot, as though provoked that any such suspicion should rest on him. "i was steering right, according to the lights. there is something wrong with them. the lights were false. whether they have been deliberately changed, or whether the machinery is at fault is something that will have to be found out. it isn't safe to proceed until morning." "and that will delay me several hours," grumbled mr. marshall. "i can't help that. i'll not take the responsibility of piloting the boat in this thick fog, when i can't depend on the lights." "no, of course not," was the answer. "we'll have to remain here, that's all. have the fog-horn sounded regularly, mr. bumstead," the captain added to the mate; and all through the night, at ten-second intervals, the great siren fog-whistle of the boat blew its melancholy blast. nat found it impossible to sleep much with that noise over his head, but toward morning the fog lifted somewhat, and he got into a doze, for the whistle stopped. mr. weatherby went ashore in the morning to make inquiries regarding the false lights. he learned that the machinery in the point lighthouse had become deranged, so that the wrong signal was shown. it had been repaired as soon as possible, and was now all right. but as the fog was gone and it was daylight, the ship could proceed safely without depending on lighthouses. nat was up early, and had a good view of the point and rocks that had so nearly caused the destruction of the _jessie drew_. three days later, having made a stop at cheboygan to take on some freight, the big ship was on lake huron. this was farther than nat had ever been before, and he was much interested in the sight of a new body of water, though at first it did not seem much different from lake michigan. they steamed ahead, making only moderate speed, for the freighter was not a swift boat, and on the evening of the next day they ran into thunder bay and docked at alpena. "plenty of work ahead for you and me," said mr. dunn to nat that night. "how's that?" "well, we've got to break out a large part of the cargo and take on almost as much again. we'll be busy checking up lists and making out way-bills. you want to be careful not to make a mistake, as that mate will have his eye on you. it's easy to see he doesn't like you." "and i don't like him," retorted nat. "i don't blame you. still, do your best when he's around. i know you always do, though. well, i'm going to get to bed early, as we'll have our hands full in the morning." nat also sought his bunk about nine o'clock, and it seemed he had hardly been asleep at all when six bells struck, and he had to get up. that day was indeed a busy one, and nat was glad when noon came and he could stop for dinner. he ate a hearty meal, and was taking a rest on deck, for the 'longshoremen and freight handlers would not resume their labors until one o'clock, when he saw coming up the gangplank a boy about his own age. the lad had red hair and rather an unpleasant face, with a bold, hard look about the eyes. "hey, kid!" the youth exclaimed on catching sight of nat, "tell me where mr. bumstead hangs out. i want to see him quick. understand?" "i understand you well enough," replied nat, who resented the unpleasant way in which the question was put. "you speak loud enough. i know what you mean. mr. bumstead is at dinner, and i don't believe he'd like to be disturbed." "oh, that's all right. he'll see me. he expects me. now you show me where he is, or i'll report you." "you will, eh?" asked nat. "well, i'm not in the habit of showing strangers about the ship. it's against orders. you can't go below until you get permission from the captain, mate or second mate." "i can't, eh? guess you don't know who i am," replied the red-haired youth with an ugly leer. "no, and i don't care," retorted nat, for his life about the docks had made him rather fearless. "well, i'll make you care--you'll see! now, are you going to show me where i can find mr. bumstead? if you don't i'll make trouble for you." "look here!" exclaimed nat, striding over to the stranger. "don't talk to me like that. i'm not afraid of you, whoever you are. i'll not show you to mr. bumstead's cabin, as it is against the rules. you can't go below, either, unless the second mate, who's in charge of the deck now, says you can. he's over there, and you can ask him if you want to. now, don't you say anything more to me or i'll punch your face!" nat was no milksop. he had often fought with the lads on the dock on less provocation than this, and, for the time being, he forgot he was on a ship. "what's the row?" asked the second mate, who, hearing the sound of high voices, approached to see what the trouble was. "oh, here's a fresh fellow who wants to see mr. bumstead," replied nat. "he can't until after grub hour," said the second mate shortly. "what's your business, young man? tell it, or go ashore." "i want to see mr. bumstead," replied the red-haired lad more humbly than he had yet spoken, for the second mate was a stalwart man. "what for?" "well, he expects me." "who are you?" "i'm his nephew, sam shaw, and i'm going to make the rest of the trip with him. he invited me, and i'm going to be a passenger." "oh, so you're his nephew, eh?" asked the second mate. "that's what i am, and when i tell him how that fellow treated me he'll make it hot for him," boasted sam shaw. "now will you show me where mr. bumstead's cabin is?" he asked of nat insolently. "no," replied our hero. "you can ask one of the stewards. i'll have nothing to do with you," for sam's threat to tell his uncle had roused all the spirit that nat possessed. "there's your uncle now," said the second mate as mr. bumstead came up the companionway. "hello, uncle joe!" called sam; and as he went forward to meet his relative nat went below. in spite of his bold words he was not a little worried lest sam shaw had come to supplant him in his position aboard the freighter. chapter xi captain marshall is angry news circulates quickly on a ship, and it was not long ere nat heard from some of the crew that the mate's nephew had come aboard to finish out the voyage with his uncle. sam shaw was installed in a small stateroom near the mate's, and when the _jessie drew_ resumed her way that afternoon the red-haired youth stood about with a supercilious air, watching nat and the others at work. "is that all you've got to do?" asked mr. dunn, the purser, of sam, as he saw the youth standing idly at the rail, when every one else was busy. "sure," replied sam, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "i'm a passenger, i am. i'm making this voyage for my health. maybe after a while i'll be an assistant to you." "not if i know it," murmured mr. dunn. "i like nat, and i hope i can keep him. he's doing good work." he passed on, for he had considerable to do on account of taking on a new cargo, while nat, too, was kept busy. "this just suits me," said sam shaw to himself as he leaned over the rail and looked down into the blue waters of the lake. "i'm glad uncle joe sent for me to join him. he said in his letter there might be a chance for me, after all, to get a place in the purser's office. i thought by that he must mean that nat morton was out, but he isn't. however, i'll leave it to uncle joe. he generally manages to get his own way. i guess i'll take that fellow nat down a few pegs before i get through with him." sam had received a letter at his home in chicago from his uncle, the mate, telling him to meet the _jessie drew_ at alpena. sam had done so, as we have seen, and was now established aboard the vessel. but he was a little puzzled as to his uncle's plans. mr. bumstead had said nothing further about providing a place for his nephew where the lad might earn money, and this was what sam wanted more than anything else. he wanted an opening where there was not much work, and he thought nat's position just about filled the bill. he did not know how hard our hero labored. "wait until i get in the purser's office," he mused as he puffed at his cigarette. "i'll soon learn all there is to know, and then i'll have my uncle see the captain and have me made purser. i don't like mr. dunn. when i get his job i'll take things easy, and have a couple of assistants to do the work. maybe i'll let nat be second assistant," he went on. "won't i make him stand around, though!" these thoughts were very pleasant to sam shaw. at heart he was a mean youth, and he was lazy and inefficient, faults to which his uncle was, unfortunately, blind. mr. bumstead thought sam was a very fine boy. in one of his trips about the deck, attending to his duties, nat had to pass close to sam. he saw the red-haired lad smoking a cigarette, and, knowing it was against the rules of the ship to smoke in that part of it where sam was, he said: "you'd better throw that overboard before the captain sees you." "throw what overboard?" asked sam in surly tones. "that cigarette. it's against the rules to smoke 'em here." "what do i care?" retorted sam. "my uncle is the mate." "that won't make any difference if captain marshall sees you." "i'm not afraid of him. my uncle owns part of the ship. he could be captain if he wanted to. i'll smoke wherever i please. have one yourself?" he added in a burst of generosity, for since he had had his idea of becoming purser and having nat for an assistant, sam felt in a little more tolerant mood toward our hero. "no, thanks, i don't smoke." "afraid of being sick, i s'pose." "no, it isn't that." "afraid the captain will see you and punish you, then?" "well, that's part of it. i used to smoke when i was about the docks, but i found it didn't agree with me, so i gave it up. i like a cigarette, but i believe they're bad for one's health. besides, if i did smoke, i wouldn't do it here. it's against the rules, i tell you, and you'd better stop." "well, i'm not going to, and you can go and tell captain marshall if you want to." "i don't do things like that," replied nat quietly, though he felt like punching sam for his sneering tone. "but i'm advising you for your own good." he turned away, and as he did so his coat, with an outside pocket showing conveniently open, was close to sam's hand. then a daring and mean scheme came into the mind of the red-haired youth. "if i get into trouble, i'll make trouble for him, too," he thought, and with a quick motion he dropped into nat's pocket a partly-filled box of cigarettes. "if he squeals on me i'll have something to tell on him," he continued. hardly had he done this than he was startled by an angry voice exclaiming: "throw that cigarette overboard! how dare you smoke on this deck? don't you know it's against the rules? go below at once and i'll attend to your case!" sam started guiltily, and turned to behold captain marshall glaring at him and at the lighted cigarette which the youth still held between his fingers. nat, who had passed on only a few steps, turned likewise. one look at the commander's face told him captain marshall was very angry indeed. "i told you that you'd better stop," nat whispered to sam. "aw, dry up!" was the ungracious retort. "i guess i can look out for myself." "look here," went on the captain, striding up to sam, "didn't you know it was against the rules to smoke up here? i don't like cigarettes in any part of the ship, least of all up on this deck. didn't your uncle tell you about it?" "no--no, sir," replied sam, who, in spite of his bravado, was startled by the angry manner of the commander. "and didn't any one tell you that it was forbidden here? didn't you tell him?" he asked, turning to nat. "you've been here long enough to know that rule." "i did know it, sir," replied nat respectfully, "and i told----" "he didn't tell me!" burst out sam quickly. "he didn't say anything about it. in fact, captain marshall, he asked me to smoke here. he gave me the cigarette!" "what!" exclaimed nat, astonished beyond measure. "i never----" "yes, you did!" went on sam quickly. "you gave me a cigarette out of a box you had in your pocket, i--i thought it was all right to smoke when he gave it to me." "is this true?" demanded the captain sternly. "no, sir!" exclaimed nat. "i haven't any cigarettes, and if i had i wouldn't give him any. i haven't smoked in over a year." "he says you have a box in your pocket now," continued captain marshall, remembering his suspicions about the fire in the hold. "he's telling an untruth," replied nat quietly. "i don't carry cigarettes about with me. you can----" "then what's this?" asked the commander suddenly, as he stepped toward nat, and plunging his hand in the lad's pocket he pulled out the box of cigarettes. the captain had seen a suspicious-looking bulge, and had acted on what he considered his rights as a commander of a vessel in searching one of his crew. "why--why----" stammered nat. "i didn't know----" "that's the box my cigarette came out of," said sam, truthfully enough. "it isn't mine!" exclaimed nat. "then what's it doing in your pocket?" inquired captain marshall. "i don't know, unless sam put it there," said nat firmly. "that's a likely story! i don't believe you." "i never put it there," declared sam stoutly. telling an untruth meant nothing to him. "then some one else, who wants to injure me, did it," declared nat. "i never use cigarettes--i haven't for over a year." "this will be looked into," said the captain. "one of you lads is telling an untruth, and i propose to find out who. when i do i shall take action. meanwhile i'll hold these cigarettes as evidence. don't let me catch either of you smoking again aboard this ship. as for you," he added, turning to nat, "you've been idle long enough. get on with your work." chapter xii the investigation nat hardly knew what to make of the strange turn of events. it had happened so suddenly that he had no time to prepare himself. he was positive sam had dropped the cigarettes into his pocket, but to prove it was another matter. he knew the mate would take the side of his nephew, while nat had no one to stand up for him. "unless mr. weatherby does," he said to himself. "i guess i'll tell him about it." "you leave it to me," said the pilot, when nat had related his story. "i think we can easily prove that sam shaw is guilty. don't worry. i'll stand by you." nat felt better after this, and went about his duties with a lighter heart. nevertheless, he could not help being anxious when he received a message telling him to report to captain marshall's cabin. "if you need any witnesses call on me," said the purser, as the boy went aft. "i saw sam smoking before you joined him, and i'll testify to that effect." "thank you," said nat. "i may need you. he tried to play a mean trick on me." in the cabin nat found assembled mr. bumstead and sam shaw, besides the commander of the ship, who, looking very stern, sat in a big chair behind the table. "i wonder where mr. weatherby is?" thought nat. "he said he'd stand by me. i hope he comes." "there's no need to state the reasons why we are here," began the captain. "i'm determined to get at the bottom of this smoking business, and put a stop to it. does your nephew smoke?" he asked, turning to the mate. "i--er--i think he used to, but he told me he had given it up, i think he has. haven't you, sam?" "yes, uncle joe; but when nat offered me one a while ago, i took it before i thought of what i was doing. i forgot i had promised you i wouldn't smoke any more." "i never gave him a cigarette!" burst out nat. "that will do!" exclaimed the captain. "you'll have your chance later." he placed the box he had taken from nat's pocket on the table in front of him. "did you ever see that box before?" he asked of the mate. "did you ever see your nephew have it?" "no, sir." "is that your box of cigarettes?" the captain asked sam. "no, sir; it belongs to nat," which was the truth, as far as it went, since sam had mentally made nat a present of it. "so it's yours, then?" turning to nat. "no, sir, it is not!" "who is telling the truth here?" asked the puzzled captain. "i am!" declared sam quickly. "you are not!" cried nat. "i never owned that box." "i found it in your pocket," declared the commander. "because he put it there." "i have already said i don't take any stock in that story. what object would he have in doing that?" "i don't know, but he did it." "i'm sure my nephew would not do such a thing," said the mate. "i know nat smokes, for i have seen him smoking about the dock when we had occasion to tie up there." "i used to," admitted our hero, "but i gave it up. if you will call mr. dunn," went on nat desperately, "i think he could give some evidence." "what kind?" asked the captain sneeringly. "did you make up some for him?" "no, sir, but he says he saw sam smoking before i passed him there on the deck, and warned him it was against the rules." "hum! well, i suppose i'll have to send for him," which the captain did. mr. dunn told how he had seen sam smoking before nat had occasion to go to that part of the deck where the mate's nephew was. "are you sure of this?" asked the mate sternly, before captain marshall had a chance to question mr. dunn. "remember you are blackening a boy's character by what you say." now, unfortunately for nat, it so happened that mr. dunn had what is termed a very "short" memory. he could recall matters distinctly for only a short time after they occurred, unless he made a note of them. that he had not done in this case. the mate saw his advantage, as the purser hesitated, and he pursued it. "wasn't it _after_ you sent nat to that part of the deck that you saw sam smoking?" he asked. "wasn't it _after_ that?" mr. dunn tried to recollect. his faulty memory went back on him, he hesitated and stammered, he became confused, and the outcome was he had to admit that he might have seen sam smoking after nat had met him. the result was he did nat's cause more harm than good. "well, i hope you're satisfied with your witness," remarked the captain dryly. "i don't see that you've proved anything, whereas the box of cigarettes is very damaging evidence against you." nat questioned mr. dunn, seeking to have him recall exactly what had taken place, but the purser, much as he wanted to help his assistant, failed dismally. "i am compelled to say i believe you gave sam the cigarette," went on captain marshall, "and, much as i regret it, for i think you are a hard-working lad, i shall have to discharge you. you broke a very strict rule of the ship, one on account of which we might, in case of fire, lose all our insurance. it is too flagrant to pass over." "then you believe him instead of me?" asked nat faintly. "i must say that i do." "but i never had those cigarettes." "the evidence is against you. what object would sam have in putting them into your pocket? that is a question you cannot answer satisfactorily." "i believe he wanted to injure me because i got this place that his uncle wanted for him." "nonsense! i have a better place in view for my nephew," said the mate. "he will take it as soon as this voyage for his health is ended." "as for traveling for his health, i wouldn't advise him to smoke any more cigarettes," remarked the captain dryly, "no matter who gives them to him." "i'll not," promised sam eagerly, congratulating himself on the success of his plot. "no, i'll see that he does not," added his uncle. poor nat did not know what to do or say. mr. dunn had slipped out of the cabin. the purser was sorry for what had happened, and most of all he regretted his inability to help nat, for though he could not testify to it in a way to carry conviction, he was sure in his own mind of what had happened. "why doesn't mr. weatherby come?" thought nat. "you will be relieved of your duties in the purser's office," went on captain marshall. "mr. bumstead, will you, as a favor to me, allow your nephew to help mr. dunn for the remainder of the voyage?" "yes, sir. i think he will be glad to do it. will you not, sam?" "certainly," was the answer, and the red-haired youth did not try to conceal the satisfaction he felt. "then you may consider yourself discharged," said the commander to nat. "i will put you ashore at the next port." "what's that?" exclaimed a voice, and those in the cabin looked up to see mr. weatherby standing in the doorway. "nat discharged! what's it all about? i tried to get here sooner, but i had to make up some records, and they took longer than i calculated. is the investigation all over, captain?" "it is, and i am sorry to say i had to decide against nat. i believe he had the cigarettes and gave sam some to smoke in that part of the ship where they are forbidden. i don't know that he smoked himself, but he might as well have done so as to induce another." "i don't believe nat did anything of the kind," said the pilot. "i'm sorry i can't agree with you," responded the commander. "i have relieved him from his duties and put sam temporarily in his place. he leaves the ship at the next port." "he does, eh?" said mr. weatherby. "then all i've got to say is that if he goes, i go too!" chapter xiii making a change such a startling announcement as the pilot made could not fail to surprise those in the cabin. nat wondered whether his friend meant it, and as for captain marshall, he believed the pilot was not aware of what had taken place at the investigation. "do you mean that you will leave the ship without a pilot?" asked the commander. "no; at least, not until we get to the next port, where you can hire one. in fact, after we get over this part of the trip you'll not need one, for the lake is well charted, and you can steer as well as i can. but i repeat, if nat goes, i go too." "but he broke one of the most stringent rules of the ship," retorted the captain, who did not at all like the idea of losing his pilot. "i can't agree with you. i know something of this case, and i believe nat is innocent of the charge." "do you mean to say that my nephew is guilty?" asked the mate. "i don't know that i care to express an opinion," was mr. weatherby's answer. "from what i know of him i should say i think your nephew might be guilty. i know he smokes cigarettes." "i used to," interrupted sam, "but i've stopped." "your hands don't bear out that assertion," said the pilot quietly, as he pointed to the tell-tale yellow stains on sam's fingers. "i am inclined to think you smoke pretty steadily yet." the red-haired youth had no answer to make to this. "do you dare to accuse my nephew?" demanded mr. bumstead. "i said i didn't care to accuse any one," replied mr. weatherby. "i only said i believe nat innocent, and if he is discharged i leave also." "i think you are taking an unfair advantage of me," said captain marshall. "you know i need your services for some time yet." "well, you know how to retain them." "how?" "by not unjustly discharging nat." "i don't think i was acting unjustly." "i do." the captain was plainly disturbed. he knew he could not well get along without the pilot, yet he did not like to have to give in to nat's claim of innocence. to do captain marshall justice, though he was quick-tempered, he really believed nat at fault, chiefly on account of mr. dunn's failure to give the proper testimony at the investigation. so with no very good humor he had to change his orders. "very well," he said rather sourly. "i'll not discharge nat, though i believe him guilty." "that will not do," insisted mr. weatherby. "if you believe him guilty you must discharge him." "but if i do, you'll go, and i will be without a pilot." "that is true, but there is another alternative." "what is it?" "you can say that at least there is a chance nat is not guilty. he should, i think, be given the benefit of the doubt." "very well. i'll admit that," replied the captain stiffly, for he did not like to be dictated to. "i believe that is all, then," went on mr. weatherby. "i suppose nat may go back to the purser's office?" the captain nodded. he was in an exceedingly bad humor. he felt that his position as captain of the ship was at stake. he had incurred the enmity of the mate, who was a part owner, and he felt that mr. weatherby, who was a member of the company owning the vessel, had no very friendly feelings toward him. still, there was nothing else the commander could do. "i'll get square with you yet," muttered sam as nat passed him on his way out of the captain's cabin. "i'll have your place, too, before a great while." "maybe you will--when i'm through with it," replied nat, quite pleased with the way things had turned out, yet wishing he could completely vindicate himself. "but i tell you one thing, sam shaw, if you try any more of your tricks on me i'll give you the worst licking you ever had." the boys were outside of the cabin now, and on the deck. "you will, eh?" "yes, i will, and don't you forget it! you put those cigarettes in my pocket, and you know it." "oh, i did, eh? then why didn't you prove it?" sneered sam. "i will, some day, and when i do--well, look out--that's all," and nat turned away and went back to his work. though the incident seemed closed, there was not the best of feeling between captain marshall and the pilot. as for the mate, he was so angry at mr. weatherby that he would not speak to him. the _jessie drew_ continued on her voyage. stops were made at several ports in saginaw bay, where cargo was either discharged or taken on. sam kept himself out of nat's way, but this was not difficult, for nat found plenty to do, as, since he grasped matters rapidly, the purser turned more and more work over to him. nat was glad of this, since he wanted to learn all he could, and he was rapidly advancing. mr. dunn complimented him on his aptitude for the work, and said it would not be long before he could qualify for the position of assistant purser. "then i suppose you'll be after my place," he said. "no, indeed," answered nat with a smile. "you've been too kind to me." "i wish i could have done more for you at that investigation. it's too bad my memory is so faulty. i have to make a note of everything the minute it happens, or i'd forget it. i get so used to relying on books and memoranda in this position that i'm lost without them." "don't worry about it," said nat. "it's all right. some time i'll prove what a mean trick sam played on me, and then i'll be satisfied." mr. weatherby did not forget his promise to teach nat all he could about piloting, and many a day the lad spent in learning the different points and studying the lake, its various headlands, lighthouses, buoys and other marks on which navigators have to depend. "you're coming on well, nat," said the old pilot one day. "it won't be long before you can qualify for an assistant pilot, and then it will be only a matter of a few years when you will be a full-fledged one." "i'll be glad when that time comes. i want to earn some money to pay back mr. and mrs. miller for what they did for me." "yes, they were very kind to you, and they felt it more than a family would that had more money. never forget your friends, nat. by the way, have you seen or heard anything more about that pocketbook which the mate had?" "no; i've watched him closely, but i haven't had a sight of it. probably i was mistaken." "i think not, yet he may have come by it honestly, even if it was your father's. sailors often make each other gifts, or your father may have sold it to mr. bumstead." "i don't believe he'd do that. he thought too much of it. but if the mate came by it honestly, i don't see why he acted so queerly. i can't help thinking there is some mystery about it. in fact, father's death was so sudden that little was known concerning it." "i have a plan in mind, which i am going to put into operation as soon as possible," said the pilot. "it may result in some information." "what is it?" "i know a man who was on the lumber barge on which your father was. i am going to write to him, and have him tell me all the circumstances connected with your parent's death." "i wish you would. it would relieve my mind to know all the facts." "that is what i thought. i will write in a few days, but now i have another matter i want to speak to you about." the pilot's manner was serious, and nat wondered what his friend was about to say. mr. weatherby went to the door of the pilot-house and looked out. "i just wanted to see that sam shaw, or his uncle, were not about," he said in explanation. "they've been hanging around here of late, and i'm suspicious of them." he closed the door, and coming over to where nat stood at the wheel said: "how would you like to come with me on a big passenger steamer?" "are you going?" asked nat in surprise. "well, i have the chance. i got a letter the other day from a big firm, that wants another pilot. they made me a very good offer, and i'm inclined to take it. i thought i would ask you if you'd like to go." "would i have a chance to learn to be a pilot?" "yes, a better chance than you have here." "then i'd like to go first-rate. i'm ever so much obliged to you. do you think you will accept the offer?" "i believe i will. i'll tell captain marshall that we are going to leave him at detroit. he can easily get another pilot there, and we'll change to a ship where conditions are more pleasant. i'm glad you want to come with me." "i don't know what i'd do if it wasn't for you." "well, i still feel that i'm in your debt," replied mr. weatherby. "i think----" he stopped suddenly and went to the door. he listened a moment, then quickly opened it. sam shaw was hurrying away down the deck. "i believe he was listening, the young rascal!" exclaimed the pilot. "do you think he heard anything?" "he must have. the windows were open." "what will you do?" "well, it doesn't matter much. i'll inform captain marshall at once of my intentions, and so spoil any trick which the mate's nephew thinks he can play on us." chapter xiv a blow and a rescue that captain marshall was surprised is putting it mildly when a little later mr. weatherby informed the commander that he was going to leave to be a pilot on a big passenger steamer. "if it is a question of more money, i think you can get it on this steamer," said mr. marshall. "no, it isn't altogether that. the freight runs are too long to suit me. i am getting along in years, and i like to spend a little time on shore. by taking this position on a passenger vessel i will have considerable time between trips. then, again, conditions are not as pleasant here of late as i'd like to have them. nat and i will leave you as soon as you reach detroit." "nat! is he going with you?" "yes. after what has occurred i should think you would be glad of it." "i don't know that i am," replied the captain. "at first i believed him guilty of having those cigarettes, but since then i have been informed by one of the crew that sam shaw smokes in secret, though not in forbidden places. no, i can't say that i am altogether pleased that nat is going. he is a good boy, and though he is a trifle slow in some things i think i will prefer him to sam." "then sam is going to have his place?" "if nat leaves. i have promised mr. bumstead that i will give his nephew the position." "i hope you don't repent of it. i am sorry this little trouble has occurred, but i'll stick to nat every time." "i wish i was sure that sam and not nat was at fault," went on the captain. "i confess i do not altogether like sam, but i am under obligations to his uncle." "well, nat and i will soon be leaving you," continued the pilot. "of course, until i go, i will do all i can to help you, and so will nat." though captain marshall was a little sorry to lose nat, yet, on the whole, he was not ill-pleased that the boy to whom, in a measure, he had had to admit himself in the wrong was going to leave. he would have been better pleased to get some one else besides sam in his place, but he could do nothing, as he had given the mate a promise. as for nat, he was delighted at the prospect of a change. he had always wanted a place on a passenger steamer, for though he might be kept busier, the work was of a pleasanter character. the wages, too, were higher, and there was a better chance for advancement. several days went by, and the freighter made a number of stops of small importance. "well, nat," said mr. weatherby in the evening, after the boy had spent nearly all day in the pilot-house perfecting himself along the lines of his chosen calling, "we'll be at detroit to-morrow morning, and then we'll bid farewell to the _jessie drew_. i suppose you'll be glad of it?" "partly, yes, though it was very nice before sam showed up." "i, too, will be a little sorry to go," added the pilot. "i have been on her a number of years now, and it seems like home to me. but i think a change will be best." "is the passenger steamer at detroit?" "no, but it is expected there in a few days. we'll lay off on shore until she arrives. i have been in communication with the owners, and the boat is to pick you and me up at that port. you'll have a chance to make a few excursions on shore." "oh, i'm not tired of work so soon." "no, i should hope not. but i have a little business to attend to in detroit. i may say it affects you." "affects me? how is that?" "you remember i told you i was going to write to a man who was on the lumber barge with your father?" "yes." "well, i did so, and i have an answer from him." "who is he? what does he say?" "his name is george clayton." "why, i have often heard my father speak of him." "yes; well, i had a letter from him the other day. it was forwarded to me from chicago." "what does he say? does he recall anything out of the ordinary concerning my father?" "that's what i can't tell. he doesn't say anything, except that he will meet me in detroit. so he may know something, and, again, he may not. i suppose you haven't learned anything more from mr. bumstead?" "no. he hasn't said much to me since the trouble over the cigarettes." "did you ask him any more about the pocketbook?" "i started to speak to him about it, intending to inquire if he couldn't possibly be mistaken, but he refused to talk about it and turned away, saying the wallet was his, and had been for a long time." "a good deal depends on what he calls a long time," murmured mr. weatherby as he went to his cabin. "i wonder what mr. clayton can tell me?" thought nat. "i don't believe there was anything suspicious about father's death, or it would have been brought out at the time. the captain of the barge said he had fallen overboard while at work during a storm, and that they had a hard time recovering his body. poor father! if he was only alive now he and i could be on some vessel and both earning a good living." nat was a little sad at the thoughts of his dead parent, but he did not dwell long on this gloomy side. he had his work to do, and work is one of the best things in the world to make us forget our griefs. the _jessie drew_ tied up at the wharf in detroit early the next morning. mr. weatherby had his baggage all packed, and nat at his suggestion had done the same. nat had been paid off by captain marshall the night before, but the pilot received his money in the form of a check every month. "i hope you do well in your new place," said captain marshall as he bade nat good-by. "thank you. i hope to be able to prove some day that those cigarettes were not mine," replied nat. "if you do i will always be ready to beg your pardon," was the commander's reply, somewhat stiffly made. "well, nat, are you all ready?" called the pilot as he stood at the head of the companionway. "all ready," replied the boy, coming up on deck. near the gangplank, over which he had to pass to leave the vessel, stood sam shaw. though sam had said little to his uncle about it, he was quite envious over nat's rise in life. to be a helper to a pilot on a passenger steamer was much better than to be an assistant to the purser of a freighter. sam had hinted to his uncle the advisability of mr. bumstead seeking a berth on a passenger boat, but the latter had replied he did not care for that sort of a place. the truth was the mate was not competent to take such a position, as he was not a first-class officer. "good-by, nat," called mr. dunn to the lad who had been such a help to him. "i'll miss you." "oh, i guess i can do as well as he did," spoke sam quickly. "i'll not make any mistake checking up the cargo lists, and i'll not go to sleep in the hold and say a bale fell on me." for his uncle had told sam of these two circumstances, giving his own version of them. "that'll do you!" exclaimed nat. "don't you get too fresh!" "and i'm not going to have any cigarettes, either," went on sam, determined to do all he could to blacken nat's character. this last taunt was too much for nat. dropping his valise he sprang for sam. "you take that back!" he demanded. "i'll do nothing of the kind!" was sam's retort. "then i'll punch your head!" "you don't dare! i'm not afraid of you. get away from me, or i'll land you one on the nose!" the two boys stood glaring at each other. nat was thoroughly angry, something that was rare with him, and sam felt a desire to strike the lad who had managed to get ahead of him. "are you going to get away from me?" demanded sam. "not until i get ready." "come, nat, don't have anything to do with him," advised mr. weatherby, for he did not want to see a fight. at the sound of his friend's voice nat involuntarily turned his head. sam meanly took advantage of this, and drew back his arm for a blow. his fist shot out, but nat turned aside in time so that he only received a light blow on the shoulder. he had been hit, however, and he was not the lad to stand that without taking some action. "there! if you want to fight!" he cried, and his left shot out, straight for sam's face. sam tried to dodge, but he was too late. the blow caught him full on the chin, and so powerful was it that he reeled backward, vainly clutching the air for support. he had been standing with his back to the little space between the ship's rail and the rail of the gangplank. nat's blow sent him reeling backward, and a moment later sam fell into the water between the vessel and the dock. "man overboard!" sang out a sailor who had witnessed the fight and its outcome. "man overboard!" he ran to the rail, and threw a life-preserver down into the narrow space. but with the realization of what he had done nat was in action. he threw off his coat and vest with a quick motion, and with his knife cut the laces of his shoes, kicking them off in a trice. then, running to the rail, he peered down to where a swirl in the water indicated sam's position. over the rail leaped nat, to rescue the boy whom he had knocked into the water. at the sailor's cry captain marshall and the mate came running out on deck. they were told by the pilot what had happened. "i'll have him arrested for this!" cried the mate. "he tried to murder my nephew." "your nephew hit him first," replied mr. weatherby. "yes, and now he's trying to drown him!" "not a bit of it. sam had no business to be standing where he was. let nat alone and he'll get him out. he rescued me from a worse place than that." the three men rushed to the rail, and peered down. neither boy was in sight. "sam's drowned! oh, sam's drowned!" cried the mate, helplessly. "nonsense!" replied the pilot. "he hasn't been in half a minute. there! nat's got him!" nat had reappeared on the surface, with one arm about his enemy. "throw me a rope!" he cried. "he's unconscious! must have hit his head!" "can you hold him?" asked the pilot. "yes. i've got hold of the dock." the rope was hastily lowered, and nat placed the loop of it about the shoulders of the unconscious sam. then those on deck hauled him up. a few seconds later, with the aid of the same rope, nat was pulled on deck. "is he--is he all right?" he asked anxiously. "yes," answered the pilot. "that was a plucky rescue." "well, i couldn't do any less, seeing i knocked him overboard. i was afraid i couldn't get him. he's quite heavy." "this is a dramatic farewell," commented mr. weatherby. "i suppose you can't go now, until you have changed your clothes." "i don't want to go until i know whether he is all right. i'm sorry i struck him so hard." "he deserved it, for he took an unfair advantage of you." "yes, that's so; but i didn't think it would end this way." "better go to the engine-room, and change your clothes," suggested mr. weatherby. "i'll wait for you." chapter xv nat hears some news nat took off his wet garments, and donned some others, while the damp ones were put to dry over one of the boilers. in the meanwhile sam had been revived. he was not much hurt, but he had swallowed a quantity of water, which made him quite ill. "i'll have that nat morton arrested for assault and battery," declared the mate. "no--no--don't!" begged his nephew. "why not? didn't he hit you?" "yes--but--but i hit him first, and--and mr. weatherby saw me." "oh," said mr. bumstead. "well, we'll get even with him some way." "that's what i will," declared sam, with as much energy as possible under the circumstances. "i'm glad he's going. are you sure i'm to have his job?" "yes, and you'll get more money. i made captain marshall agree to that, though he didn't want to. but you'll have to be very careful. don't you dare smoke any cigarettes." "how do you know i do smoke 'em?" "oh, i've got a good nose for tobacco," replied his uncle. "i'm warning you; that's all. i don't like this nat morton any more than you do, and i'm glad he is going." the mate did not say why, but it was because he had hidden away a certain wallet, with a name erased from it, and this wallet he did not want nat to see. owing to the fight between nat and sam, it was not until noon that mr. weatherby and our hero were able to leave the _jessie drew_. by that time nat's clothes were dry, and then, without sam looking on, for he was below in his bunk, the pilot and the lad whom he had befriended went ashore. "we'll go to the imperial hotel," spoke mr. weatherby. "that's where i usually put up, when i'm here, and we'll wait there until the _mermaid_ docks." "is that the name of the ship we are going on?" asked nat. "that's her. she's a fine steamer, and captain turton is a fine man. i shall like to work for him, and i believe you will too." "maybe he doesn't want me," suggested nat, for he had been thinking of that contingency. "oh, i've arranged all that. but i wonder if george clayton will be here?" "where did you expect to meet him?" "at the hotel. there's the place, just ahead," and the pilot pointed down the street. "yes, and there's george, like a lookout in the bow on a foggy night. there, he's signaling us!" nat saw a stout, jolly looking man, standing on the hotel steps, waving his hand to mr. weatherby. "ahoy there!" called mr. clayton, when they were within hailing distance, "how goes it?" "very fair. how about you?" "oh, i've had pretty good weather, and i managed to keep off the rocks and shoals. but is this nat morton, whom you were telling me about?" "that's nat," replied the pilot. "hum. looks like his father," commented mr. clayton. "shake hands, young man," and he extended a big one, roughened by many years of toil aboard lake steamers. "did you know my father?" asked nat, with deep interest. "indeed, i did. he and i were messmates on many a trip. i was on the same barge when a big wave washed him overboard. my! but that was a rough night!" "i thought maybe, george," said mr. weatherby, "that you could tell nat something about his father's affairs. there seems to be something wrong somewhere, but i can't get a clear passage to what it is. the signals don't seem to be right, and we're navigating around in a fog. maybe you can put us on the right course, and we'll get into some sort of a harbor." "i'll do my best, though i don't know much about his affairs," said the stout sailor. "but come on in. i'd like to talk to you." nat felt a little strange at meeting one who had known his father so intimately. but george clayton was not one to let one feel sad for very long. when they were in his room at the hotel, drinking lemonade, for the day was hot, he told nat all he knew about his father's last voyage. "and so you're learning to be a pilot," he said to nat at the close. "i thought your father was going to set you up in some business. he was afraid you would meet with some accident if you followed the same calling he did." "set him up in business? what do you mean?" asked mr. weatherby. "well, i don't know exactly what business, but i know jim--i always called your father jim," he explained to nat--"i know jim was talking what he was going to do with the profits of the load of lumber--i mean his share." "did mr. morton have a share in the load of lumber on the barge from which he was drowned?" asked the pilot. "of course. didn't you know that? didn't you get his share when he died?" he asked of the boy. "i got nothing. father left nothing, as far as i know." "why, he certainly left something," insisted mr. clayton. "we all got our share out of it, and i always supposed his went to his heirs. you're the only one, i understand." "this is getting to be quite a puzzle," declared mr. weatherby. "suppose you explain." "well, you certainly surprise me," went on mr. clayton. "and nat didn't get anything after his father died?" "not a cent. how could he? mr. morton left no papers of any kind." "well, he certainly did, for i saw 'em. there was a whole walletful, and among them was a certificate of his share in the lumber deal." "what lumber deal? what wallet?" asked nat excitedly. "i'd better begin at the beginning," said mr. clayton, "and tell it all regularly--that is, as much as i know. but first i must have some more lemonade." he filled his glass from the pitcher, drank a goodly draught of the beverage, and began: "jim and i and several others formed a syndicate on that lumber. that is, we all put our money together and purchased the load. it was good timber, and the price was high, and we stood to make considerable. jim had five shares, and each share was worth in the neighborhood of three hundred dollars. i had two shares." "then my father had fifteen hundred dollars in that lumber deal," said nat. "that's what he had, my boy, and where it went to is a mystery." "did you get your money out of it?" asked the pilot. "i certainly did, and so did the others. after that storm, when your father was lost overboard, we had a hard job getting the lumber to port, but we managed to do it, and sold it for a good price." "what was done with the money?" asked mr. weatherby. "it was divided among the members of the syndicate." "what about mr. morton's share?" "his was laid aside, and the second mate of the barge said he would take it to his address in chicago. he got it off mr. morton's dead body." "i never received the money," said nat. "that's queer," spoke mr. clayton. "who was the second mate, who agreed to take mr. morton's share to his heirs?" inquired the pilot. "he was joseph bumstead," was the startling answer, "but i don't know where he is now. he cleared out after we sold the lumber, taking his share, and mr. morton's, and i haven't seen him since." chapter xvi just too late such was their surprise over this announcement on the part of mr. clayton, that neither mr. weatherby nor nat knew, for a moment, what to say. "are you sure bumstead had mr. morton's share?" asked the pilot. "of course. he took charge of everything that was found in poor jim's pockets. there was a little money, and some other papers. one, i recall, was a promissory note for about four hundred dollars, for money jim had loaned to bumstead. i remember there was some question about letting him take that, but he said he would pay the money due on it to jim's heirs, and we let him have the whole business." "what sort of a looking man was this bumstead?" asked mr. weatherby, while he and nat waited anxiously for the answer. mr. clayton accurately described the mate of the _jessie drew_. "it's the same man," murmured the pilot. "there can be no mistake about that." "why, do you know him?" asked mr. clayton. "i have every reason to believe that he is mate of the freight steamer nat and i have just left," was the reply. "then let's get right after him, and make him give up that money!" exclaimed mr. clayton. "he's got it. probably he turned the lumber shares into money as soon as he got ashore, for he could easily do that." "then with the money due on the note he has about two thousand dollars belonging to----" "belonging to nat!" interrupted mr. clayton, "and i'll see that the boy gets it. come on, don't lose any time. bumstead may skip out. i didn't like the man when i was in the same crew with him, but i never supposed he was a thief." "this explains why he did not want nat to come aboard to work," said the pilot. "he was afraid mr. morton's son would discover something." "and i _did_, too," put in nat. "i saw him have my father's wallet." "that's so; i forgot about that for the moment," cried mr. weatherby. "do you recall that pocketbook, with mr. morton's name on it in gold letters?" he asked, turning to mr. clayton. "indeed, i do. jim thought a lot of that. has bumstead got it?" "we have every reason to think he has." "he's a thorough villain," commented mr. clayton. "now don't let's delay any longer, or he may skip out. let's get a policeman, or a detective, and have him locked up. i'll be a witness against him." "i guess that's our best plan," assented the pilot. "well, nat, you're better off than you thought you were. two thousand dollars is a neat sum for a lad like you." "i haven't got it yet." "no, but we'll see that you do get it," replied mr. weatherby's friend. "we'll have the law on that rascally mate. no wonder he wanted his nephew to have your place." "shall we go down where the _jessie drew_ is tied up, and see if the mate is aboard before we get an officer, or stop at the police station first?" asked mr. weatherby, as he, nat and mr. clayton left the hotel. "let's get a policeman, or a detective, first," was mr. clayton's answer. "we can't take any chances with a man like bumstead. to think of him having that money more than two years, since poor jim was drowned, and nat suffering for what was really his own!" "oh, i didn't suffer so much," was our hero's answer. "i managed to get along, and mr. and mrs. miller were very good to me. then i had a good friend in mr. weatherby." "no better than i had in you," replied the pilot, who had told his friend of the plucky rescue. a stop at the police station, and a recital of part of the story to the sergeant in charge, readily procured the services of a detective. in order to excite no suspicions, it was arranged that the officer and mr. clayton should go on ahead to the dock where the freight steamer was tied up. they could go aboard, and if mr. bumstead saw them he would not become alarmed and escape, whereas, if he saw the pilot and nat returning he might take the alarm. accordingly, when they were part way to the dock, nat and mr. weatherby walked down a side street, while the others went on. "i wonder if he'll put up a fight?" mused nat, as they paced slowly up and down, waiting. "very likely. he is a desperate man, and i haven't the slightest doubt but what he pushed that bale on you in the hold." "i think so myself," agreed nat. it seemed quite a long time that mr. clayton and the detective were gone, and nat grew impatient. "something must have happened," he said. "i hope so," answered the pilot. "i hope they got him, and that he had your money with him." they resumed their pacing up and down. about ten minutes later they saw mr. clayton and the officer coming toward them, unaccompanied. "they didn't get him!" exclaimed nat. "maybe he gave up the money." "i hope he did. i shouldn't like to go to court over it." "well?" asked the pilot, as the two came nearer. "we were just too late," answered mr. clayton dejectedly. "too late?" "yes, the vessel has sailed for buffalo. we have been trying to find another ship bound for the same port, that might get in ahead of the freighter, but we couldn't. i guess bumstead has escaped us for a time, but you can follow him. his ship will tie up in buffalo for a week." "but nat and i have to go aboard the passenger steamer in a few days," said mr. weatherby. "we'll have to stay on lake huron for a month or more, cruising about. i can't go to buffalo, and i don't believe it would be safe for nat to go alone." "i wish i could," said mr. clayton, "but i've got to ship for a trip to duluth and other ports to-morrow. even if i didn't have to go, i would have no right to make a complaint against the mate. it would have to be done by nat, as it's his money." "that's right," said the detective. "the person whose property is stolen has to make the complaint. but we might wire the buffalo police to hold the man until one of you can get there. the only trouble is you'd have to swear out a warrant here, and as i understand it, there is only a suspicion against bumstead." "we are practically sure he has nat's money," replied the pilot, "still, there may be some difficulty in causing his arrest, when he is so far away. if we could only send some one to buffalo, who understood the case, and would know what to do, we could manage. it is out of the question for me to go, and i don't believe nat could manage matters. the mate would probably get some criminal lawyer, and effect a release, even if he was arrested. it's quite a puzzle." "i don't see what we can do," added the detective. "if we had been half an hour sooner we could have nabbed him." nat, who had hopes of recovering the money that was rightfully his, began to feel discouraged. it looked as if the rascally mate had the best of them. as the four stood in the street, undecided what to do, a voice hailed nat, calling out: "well, well! if there isn't the lad who saved my boat for me! i'm glad to see you again. how are you?" nat looked up, to see advancing toward him two men. the younger was john scanlon, whose craft the boy had saved from being stove in at the dock in chicago, some weeks before. chapter xvii planning a capture "glad to meet you again," said nat cordially, as he shook hands with young mr. scanlon. "what are you doing here?" "oh, we're on a little trip, my father and i. by the way, i don't believe you have met my father. dad, this is nat morton, whom i was telling you about. he saved our rowboat." "humph, i haven't quite forgiven you for that careless piece of work, john. but i'm glad to meet nat," and mr. peter scanlon shook hands with the lad. "what are you doing here, nat?" asked john. "i'm learning to be a pilot." "this is a queer place to learn that calling--ashore." then nat explained that he was about to make a change of craft, and he introduced his companions to john and the latter's parent. he also told of the money due him and their fruitless efforts to capture the mate. "why, that's quite a romantic story," commented john scanlon. "to think of your having money all this time, and not knowing it!" "and i'm still without it," said nat, "and likely to be for some time, unless something happens." "what a story that would make for the newspapers," went on john. "i once thought of becoming a newspaper reporter. this would be a dandy yarn." "hold on there, young fellow!" exclaimed the detective. "what's the matter?" asked john. "don't go to tipping off the papers about this. we're going to have a hard enough time as it is to capture this chap, and we don't want him to know we're after him. if he sees something about it in the papers, he'll take the alarm and leave buffalo before we can land him." "buffalo? is he headed for buffalo?" asked john scanlon excitedly. "yes. why?" asked nat. "why, that's where we're going! my father's steam yacht leaves for buffalo to-morrow. we're going to make the trip all the way to new york, by way of the st. lawrence river, and we're going to stop off at buffalo. maybe we'll see this bumstead." "say, if you only could catch him!" cried nat eagerly. "there are several legal difficulties to that plan," objected the detective. "perhaps i can suggest a way out," put in mr. scanlon, who had been listening with interest to the story of nat's newly discovered possessions. "i am a lawyer, and if i can help the lad who saved my son's boat from destruction, i'd be only too glad to do so." "that might be the very thing," went on the officer. he explained the mix-up that would ensue if some unauthorized person attempted to cause the arrest of the mate in buffalo. "i think we can get around that difficulty," said the lawyer. "according to your story the mate is guilty of embezzling money belonging to another, with which he was entrusted. then there is the promissory note, which would come under a different head. nat can make a complaint in this city, charging the mate with embezzlement. a warrant can be sworn out, and i can be duly authorized to prosecute the case for nat." "that would answer first-rate," commented the detective. "only i'm afraid it will put you to a good deal of trouble, mr. scanlon," said mr. weatherby. "i don't mind that in the least. i am in no hurry. in fact i am on a pleasure trip, and it does not matter when i get to new york. i had planned to stop at buffalo, and spending a few days longer there than i calculated on will make no difference." "but will your boat get to buffalo ahead of the freight steamer?" asked mr. clayton. "i think so," replied john scanlon, with a smile. "it is one of the fastest small yachts afloat. i fancy we will be at the dock waiting for this bumstead when his ship gets in." "yes," agreed his father. "i will be waiting for him there with a warrant. but we must lose no time. supposing we go to the police station and draw up the complaint?" this was soon done, and with the proper papers in his pocket, mr. scanlon and his son prepared to set out on their voyage to capture the rascally mate. the lawyer promised to telegraph nat the result of his efforts, as soon as possible, and the pilot gave mr. scanlon a list of the ports at which the _mermaid_, his new vessel, would call. "in case anything happens, you can notify us," said the pilot. the lawyer and his son bade the others good-by, as, now that they had an object in view, the scanlons wanted to begin their trip at once. "good luck!" called nat to his new friends. "i hope you get him." "oh, we'll get him," replied john confidently. "well, nat, there's been quite a change in your prospects since you jumped overboard, a few hours ago, and rescued sam shaw," remarked mr. weatherby as, with our hero and mr. clayton, they went back to their hotel. "yes, i seem to have more friends than i thought i did." "and one or two enemies. don't forget that. you've been through some perils already, and i hope they're at an end." but there were yet more dangers ahead of nat morton--dangers of which he did not dream, for indeed, as the pilot had said, he had at least one relentless enemy who would have been well satisfied to see nat out of his way. two days later the _mermaid_ arrived at detroit, and the pilot and nat went aboard. mr. clayton had previously sailed on his trip to lake superior, to be gone some time, but he promised to come, whenever wanted, to testify against bumstead, in case the mate was brought to trial. the _mermaid_ was a fine passenger steamer, which called at all the principal ports on lakes huron, michigan and erie. she carried passengers chiefly, but also took some freight. nat, however, found he had nothing to do with that department. he was assigned to the captain's cabin, where he would have certain light duties to perform, but it had been arranged, by mr. weatherby, that his young _protã©gã©_ was to receive more instruction in piloting than had been possible aboard the freighter. so the most of the day, and part of the night, found nat with his friend in the pilot-house. the _mermaid_ steered by steam, and instead of an immense wheel, there was only a small one. a simple turn of it, with one hand, would send the great steamer on any desired course. "this is another reason i wanted to change," remarked mr. weatherby, as he explained to nat how the steam steering gear was operated. "that big wheel was getting too much for me to handle, especially in a storm. we'll have it easier now, and it will be more pleasant." there was no doubt about this. the _mermaid_ was a new steamer, and was handsomely furnished. and it was much nicer to be among passengers, than delving away in a dark, dirty hold, checking up long cargo lists. nat began to feel that his life had changed very much for the better. he had a new suit of clothes, and made a good appearance. for about a week the _mermaid_ cruised on lake huron and lake michigan, taking on passengers, and some freight at one port, and leaving them at another. nat was rapidly progressing in his chosen calling, and several times he had steered the vessel all alone, with no one in the pilot-house but himself, for mr. weatherby wanted the lad to acquire confidence. captain turton was an agreeable man, and readily consented that nat should have all the privileges possible, in order to learn more rapidly. "i was young once myself," he said with a smile. "i had to pick up my knowledge of ships as best i could, and if i had had half a chance i would be a better navigator than i am now. in fact, i could have learned piloting among these many islands in lake huron, and that would have saved me hiring you, weatherby." "well, if nat keeps on, he'll soon be able to take my place," said the pilot with a smile. "he did nearly all the work to-day. i'm getting lazy, i guess. for the last few days i haven't felt like myself." "maybe you're getting malaria," suggested the captain. "i'm getting something. guess i'll take a big dose of quinine to-night." "better not to-night," spoke the captain. "why not?" "well, i don't like the looks of the weather. there seems to be a storm coming up, and you'll want all your wits about you if it comes on to blow much." "oh, i guess i can steer, even if my ears do ring with the quinine, and my head buzzes," answered mr. weatherby. "i must break up this languid feeling." the _mermaid_ stopped at a good-sized city that evening, preparatory to making an all-night trip. as the boat touched the dock nat saw on the end of the pier a telegraph messenger. "anybody named nat morton aboard?" the boy called, as soon as the ship was made fast. "that's me," replied nat. "well, i've got a telegram for you. i've been waiting three hours, and you've got to pay for my time." "that'll be all right," said mr. weatherby, who was standing at the rail, beside nat. "it's probably from mr. scanlon," he went on. "i was wondering why we didn't hear from him." he paid the messenger boy, and nat tore open the yellow envelope. the message was from mr. scanlon, and it was short. it said: "freighter arrived. bumstead and nephew not aboard. they shipped on another vessel before arriving at buffalo. wire me what to do." chapter xviii nat's plucky piloting "well, if that isn't tough luck!" exclaimed nat. "i suppose bumstead thinks just the opposite," remarked the pilot. "i wonder if he heard of our plan, and made the change of boats to escape us?" "i think not. he could not know that we were after him. i fancy the mate and captain marshall had some disagreement. i know the mate did not like mr. marshall, who, in fact, was rather afraid of bumstead. very likely they had a quarrel, and the mate got aboard the first vessel he met." "then we can't have him arrested." "oh, i guess we can. it will take a little longer, that's all. he's sure to stick around the lakes, as he doesn't know enough of navigation to get a job anywhere else. news travels pretty well among those engaged in business up here, and we'll get on his track sooner or later." "i hope so, for i want that money. when i didn't know i was to get any i was pretty well satisfied, but now that i have heard of this legacy, it seems as though i ought to get it." "and so you shall. but i must telegraph to mr. scanlon. i don't believe we can ask him to do any more for us. he probably wants to continue on to new york. besides, we can't inform him where to look for bumstead. i'll just wire, thanking him, and tell him we'll look after the rascal now." "i guess that's the only plan." a message was sent to mr. scanlon, and by that time the _mermaid_ was ready to proceed. the indications of the storm became more pronounced, but it did not break that night. day after day slipped by and nat kept steadily at work, learning all about piloting that was possible. it was wonderful how quickly he acquired the art of navigation. "the boy was born to it," declared the old pilot to the captain. "he knows as much about it already as many assistants who have been at the wheel for ten times as long." mr. weatherby was far from well, and nat noticed that he could not keep at the wheel as steadily as before. one evening when a heavy storm was brewing the old pilot said every bone in his body ached. "guess i'm in for a spell of sickness, sure," he remarked. "can't you take some medicine?" asked nat, sympathetically. "yes." mr. weatherby took a large dose of quinine, so large that he was unable to remain in the pilot-house after midnight, but as the route was over a course he had previously traveled, nat had no difficulty in steering the big vessel, with occasional help from captain turton. "well, nat, how did you make out?" mr. weatherby asked him the next morning. "pretty well. i was a bit frightened at first, and i was afraid i would forget some of the signals, or read the lights wrong, and pile the boat up on an island or a bar, but i didn't." "glad to hear it. i was a little anxious about you. now whatever you do, when you're in the pilot-house, don't lose your nerve. just say to yourself that you're going to succeed, and bring the ship through, and you'll do it." "there's more responsibility here than on a freighter." "indeed, there is! think of all the human lives entrusted to your care. that will make you keep your nerve in case you get in a critical place. but you did very well, and i'm proud of you." "how are you feeling this morning?" "pretty well. i can take my trick now. you'd better turn in and get some sleep. you may have to take part of the watch again to-night." nat did go to his bunk, after breakfast, but he did not stay there long. one of the cabin stewards was injured by a fall down a companionway, and nat had to turn in and do this man's work. the result was the boy was kept busy nearly all day, occasionally taking a turn at the wheel. once, when he relieved mr. weatherby for a few minutes, while the pilot went below to take some medicine, he remarked to his benefactor: "you don't look very well." "and i don't feel very well, nat. but i'm trying to stick it out. we've got a hard part of the lake ahead of us, a part where there are more islands than you can shake a stick at, and i don't like to go through there. but we've got to do it." "but how can you, if you're sick?" "pilots, as well as other persons, can't always do as they would like to. i guess i'll be all right. but i don't like the weather. the longer this storm holds off, the worse it's likely to be. however, there's no use worrying. i'll be back in a few minutes. keep her about as she is." left alone in the pilot-house nat glanced at the compass, noted the course marked on the charts, and by moving the small steam steering-wheel slightly, found that the ship answered readily to the helm. off to the west there was a big bank of slate-colored clouds, from which, now and then, came low rumblings of thunder. "i guess it won't be long before the storm reaches here," thought the young pilot. almost before the boy realized it, an hour had passed. he was so interested in steering the boat, and recalling the different points that had been impressed on him by the pilot, that he did not notice that mr. weatherby was gone much longer than he had said he would be away. "it's taking him a good while to get his medicine," murmured nat. "i hope he isn't going to be sick again to-night. i don't want to have to steer the vessel among a lot of islands." he was now anxiously awaiting the return of mr. weatherby, for the storm seemed to be approaching more rapidly, and the darkness of the coming night was added to by the black clouds, that now covered the entire sky. nat shifted the wheel, to keep the vessel on the prescribed course, and was looking ahead through the fast-gathering gloom, when some one came into the pilot-house. he looked up to see captain turton, whose face wore a worried look. "i'm afraid we're going to have trouble," he said. "how so, captain?" "mr. weatherby is very sick. i was just in his cabin, and i found him in a semi-conscious state. he had tried to take some medicine, but before he could get it he was seized with a sudden fit of sickness. i called in the doctor, and he said the pilot would not be able to take charge of the vessel to-night. i don't know what we're going to do, unless you can steer. do you think you can?" nat hesitated. he had taken the freighter over this same course, when mr. weatherby was in the pilot-house with him, but that was in calm weather and daylight. could he steer the big passenger steamer over the same course after dark, and with a storm coming up? it was a question grave enough to make even an older person than nat hesitate. "it's a pretty big contract for a lad," said the captain. "i'll help you all i can, but the rules require me to have a pilot in charge. i can't do it, unless you feel that you can steer the ship, with such help as i can give you. otherwise, i shall have to put into the nearest port, and i dislike to do that, as it will disarrange the passenger schedule, and the owners object to that." "i--i think i can do it--at least i'll try," said nat, determined to "keep his nerve" as the pilot had advised him. "i'll do my best." "that's the way to talk, nat! i guess you'll make out all right. now i'll have to go to help look after mr. weatherby. he is in a bad way." "do you think he will--die?" "oh, no, it's not as serious as that, but he's quite sick." as the captain turned away the rumbling of thunder grew louder, and there came fitful gleams of lightning from the black clouds. nat drew a long breath, and prepared himself for what he felt sure was coming. then, almost as calmly as if it had been mr. weatherby himself, he gave his orders. the lookout was stationed in the bow, and the great searchlight, on a mast back of the pilot-house, and some distance above it, was set aglow. this was to disclose, during the storm, any vessels or other obstructions in the path of the _mermaid_. this done, nat prepared for his difficult task. it grew darker, but with the blackness came the flashing of the beacon lights on dangerous reefs and islands. nat was able to pick out his position fairly well, and he began to feel less nervous. suddenly, with a furious burst of wind, and a dash of rain, the storm enveloped the vessel. great waves arose on the lake, and the ship began to pitch and toss. in fact, a storm on one of the great lakes is almost as bad as one at sea, if not worse, for it does not take long for the comparatively shallow water to become very much agitated. [illustration: "the storm enveloped the vessel"] nat signaled for full speed ahead, as he knew he would need all the steerageway possible to take the vessel through the waves that, every moment, were becoming larger. he had his supper in the pilot-house, for he would not leave to go to the cabin for it. captain turton came in during the evening to report that while mr. weatherby was resting easily, he was still quite ill. "do you think you can stick out through the night?" the commander asked. "i'm going to," was nat's plucky answer, though the boy was very tired from his long vigil the night previous, and his lack of sleep during the day. but nat was not going to give in. after the first outburst the storm settled into a steady blow, with torrents of rain, and an occasional brilliant flash of lightning, and loud peals of thunder. through it rode the ship, urged on by her powerful engines. the night wore on. wearily, nat clung to the small wheel in front of him, shifting the course of the vessel now and then, as he picked out the route on the chart, or made a quick shift to avoid some bar or island. his arms and legs were weary. his eyes were hot and smarting from lack of slumber and rest. but he stuck it out. captain turton offered to relieve him, but the boy did not want to give up. even had he done so, the relief would have been short, as, while the commander was proposing it, word came that the ship had sprung a small leak, and the captain's presence was needed to see that the pumps were set going. "we're depending on you, nat," he said as he left the pilot-house. "i'll stick it out," again came the plucky reply. about three o'clock in the morning the wind shifted. the lake became choppy, from the cross seas, and a second section of the storm seemed to make its appearance. nat, who in spite of his efforts to stay awake had caught himself nodding--in fact almost asleep once--started up suddenly. he peered out of the windows. there, right in the path of the vessel, illuminated by the powerful searchlight, was a mass of foam. at the same moment the lookout yelled: "breakers ahead! we're headed for a reef!" with a quick motion, while his heart almost stopped beating, nat spun the little wheel around. the ship quivered. it seemed to hesitate, as if debating whether or not to rush to destruction on the sharp rocks, just hidden under the treacherous water, or to glide to one side. then, slowly, so slowly that nat's heart almost ceased beating lest she should not change her course quickly enough, the _mermaid_ swung around, and her prow was pointed away from the dangerous reef. nat's plucky piloting had saved the vessel! into the little pilot-house rushed the captain. he had heard the lookout's cry, and had guessed what had happened. "we were almost on dagget's point reef!" he exclaimed. "how did we escape it?" "i saw it in time," answered nat modestly. "thank god!" cried the captain, as he grasped the young pilot by the hand. "there's deep water all around us, and if we'd struck it would have meant a terrible loss of life." at that instant there was a hoarse scream from a siren whistle, and, peering out of the windows of the pilot-house, nat and the captain saw, looming up in front of them, but some distance away, another steamer. nat blew a caution signal, and it was answered from the other vessel, which quickly turned aside, and then disappeared in the mist of rain. "i believe they were headed right for the reef, too," said the captain. "you warned them in time. well, we have a good course from now out. i'll take the wheel, and you go lie down." but nat would not. he insisted on remaining in the pilot-house until morning, and when daylight came, he saw that the other vessed was not far from them, both ships being headed for the same harbor. the other ship was the _spray_, of much smaller tonnage than the _mermaid_. "she must have turned back after meeting us," thought nat, "as she was headed in the opposite direction when we met near the reef." chapter xix the accusation captain turton decided to lay over for some hours, as, during the storm, his vessel had suffered some minor damage, which he wanted repaired. "how is mr. weatherby?" asked nat, as soon as there was no longer any need of him remaining in the pilot-house. "he is much better this morning," replied the commander, "but he is still quite weak, and will probably stay in his bunk all day. he says he would like to see you." "i'll go at once." "hadn't you better get your breakfast?" "no, that can wait." "but you have been on duty a long while, and it was a great strain on you." "i know it was, captain, but i'm so glad i brought the ship through safely, that i'd be willing to go without breakfast and sleep for a long time yet." "you are a plucky lad, and i wish more like you were learning to be pilots." nat found mr. weatherby quite ill, but, in spite of that, the pilot warmly congratulated his _protã©gã©_ on the nerve he had displayed during the storm. "you have proved your worth, nat," said mr. weatherby, "and i am proud of my pupil." nat turned in for a sleep, soon after breakfast. there was little for the crew of the _mermaid_ to do while the repairs were being made, and those passengers who were not yet at their destination strolled about the town while waiting for the trip to be resumed. the vessel that nat had brought so skilfully through the storm, which had ceased with the first appearance of dawn, was tied at the same dock as that at which was the steamer they had met near the reef. one was on one side, and one on the other, and when the dock between the ships was not occupied by wagons and trucks, laden with freight, nat could look across and see the crew of the other steamer, the _spray_, busily rearranging the cargo that had shifted during the storm. she was a freighter, but smaller than the _jessie drew_. the appearance of one lad in the crew of the _spray_ attracted nat's attention, when the young pilot arose early in the afternoon. the lad had red hair, and his figure seemed familiar. "if i didn't think he was a good way off from here i'd say that fellow was sam shaw," mused nat. "he looks a good deal like him." he tried to watch, to determine if it was his former enemy, but, as the lad kept moving to and fro, it was impossible to be certain. "if i saw mr. bumstead i'd know it was sam who was with him," went on nat, as he stood at the rail nearest the dock. "it might be possible they transferred to that ship. i wonder if i hadn't better speak to mr. weatherby, and ask his advice? no, he's sick, and i don't want to bother him about my affairs. i guess i'll just take a stroll over there and see for myself. captain turton won't care, as we can't sail until late this evening." nat started down the gangplank, but, when he was half way down, he met a man in uniform, who asked him: "is this the _mermaid_?" "yes, sir." "i am looking for a young man, named nat morton. can you tell me where i shall find him?" "that is my name," replied our hero. he thought perhaps it might be an officer from police headquarters, with some message concerning mr. bumstead. "then you are just the person i want," the man went on. "you will have to come with me." "come with you? what for? is it about mr. bumstead?" "yes," replied the man. "how did you guess?" "well, i've been expecting a message regarding him." "then what you will hear will be no news to you." "has he been arrested?" "arrested? no. why should he be arrested?" "why, i thought you said----" "perhaps i had better not say anything more until you get to headquarters," the man went on. "then it surely must be about that rascally mate," thought nat. "mr. weatherby will be glad they have him." he followed the man off the pier, and along a street on the water front. "i understand you piloted that boat through the storm last night," said the man. "well, i did, but i guess it was more by good luck than anything else that enabled me to do it. who told you about it?" "oh, it is pretty generally known. the crews of vessels talk more or less when they are in dock." they walked along in silence a little longer, and then the man stopped in front of a small building. "this doesn't look like police headquarters," thought nat. "i wonder if there's a mistake." "go right that way," said the officer, keeping close behind the boy. "the harbor master is in that room." "the harbor master?" repeated nat. "what have i to do with the harbor master? i don't want to see him." "no, but he wants to see you." a moment later nat was ushered into a room, where at a large desk sat a stern-looking man, and on either side of him were two men, each one with several books and papers before him. "ah, so this is the young pilot, eh?" remarked the man in the middle. "how old are you--er--nat morton? i believe that is your name." "i will soon be sixteen." "and you piloted the _mermaid_ past dagget's point reef last night--in that storm?" "yes, sir." "i suppose you have a license." "a license? no, sir. i am studying under mr. weatherby. he was taken suddenly ill last night, and i had to steer the boat. there was no one else." "i am sorry, my lad," said the harbor master, "but i shall have to place you under arrest." "arrest? what for?" "for piloting a passenger steamer without a license. a complaint has been lodged against you with this board--the board of control in charge of harbors and pilots." "a complaint? who made it?" "bumstead is the name--er--joseph bumstead, mate of the freighter _spray_," replied the harbor master, reading from some documents before him. "he says he met your boat off the reef last night, that you were in charge, without a license, and that you nearly ran him down. he made the complaint about an hour ago. his boat had to put back here for some repairs. he says your boat damaged the one he is mate of." "that's not so--i mean that part about nearly running him down!" exclaimed nat. "i saw him in plenty of time, and if it hadn't been for my warning whistle the _spray_ would have gone upon the reef herself!" "i am sorry, my lad, but the complaint is made in regular form, and i shall have to hold you for a hearing. however, we will have it at once. i have sent to summon this bumstead. do you wish to notify any friends?" "mr. weatherby is ill, and cannot come, but i would like captain turton to come." "very well, we will send for him. officer, bring captain turton here. in the meantime you may sit down until we reach your case," the harbor master motioned nat to take a chair on one side of the big room. chapter xx off again "this is a queer turn to affairs," thought nat, as he awaited the arrival of captain turton. "i never thought a thing about not having a license, when i steered the boat, and i don't believe mr. weatherby did either. i suppose i did wrong, but it was unintentional, and i don't see what else i could have done under the circumstances. "but i'll have a chance at bumstead now. as soon as i get out of here i'll cause his arrest. hold on, though, maybe i'll not get out of here. i wonder what the punishment is for piloting a boat without a license?" this was another phase of the queer affair. he realized if he was held on the charge, he would have no chance to make an accusation against the rascally mate. "i know what i'll do," said nat to himself, while he anxiously waited. "if bumstead comes here i'll tell captain turton to go out and get a policeman. then i can make a new complaint, charge bumstead with keeping money belonging to me, and he'll be arrested. that's what i'll do." while nat sat in the office of the harbor master, he listened to several cases that were being disposed of. captains of tugs and other boats were arraigned on charges of violating rules of the harbor; such as displaying wrong lights, crossing the course of other boats at the improper time, failing to give warning signals, colliding with other craft, or not filing the proper reports. some of the men were fined, others were suspended for a certain length of time, and one or two had their licenses revoked. "i wonder what he'll do to me?" thought nat. "there doesn't seem to be any case just like mine." he was interrupted in his musing by the entrance of captain turton. "what's this i hear?" asked the commander wonderingly, after he had greeted his young pilot. "are you in trouble, nat?" "it seems so," and the boy told the circumstances. "don't worry," advised captain turton cheerfully. "i'll stand by you, and we'll have that mate arrested as soon as he leaves the place." "is the morton case ready?" asked the harbor master, looking about him, after he had disposed of all the other matters before him. "the mate bumstead isn't here yet," replied an officer who was in charge of the court. "young morton is here, and captain turtle----" "i beg your pardon, my name is turton," interrupted the commander of the _mermaid_. "turton, i should say," corrected the court officer. "where is the person who made the charge--bumstead the mate?" asked the harbor master. "i have sent officer jenkins for him, sir. he'll be here directly. ah, here is jenkins now." "well, jenkins," said the harbor master, "did you bring the mate back with you? this case has been delayed long enough." "no, sir, i didn't bring him." "why not?" "because, sir, his ship has just sailed, and he's gone with her." "i'll commit him for contempt of court!" exclaimed the harbor master. "make out the papers at once," he added, turning to his clerk. "i will now take up this case, however, and proceed as far as possible. give me the written accusation." he looked over some papers, and, at a nod from him, nat walked forward and stood in front of the big table. then the harbor master read the complaint as made by bumstead. it set out in a number of legal terms and phrases, that nat morton had, in violation of the regulations, piloted a vessel without having a license. the mate, it appeared, had heard of nat's feat early that morning while the two vessels were docked, and had lost no time making his accusation, for mere spite. "how do you plead to that?" asked the harbor master. "i guess i did it," answered nat. "perhaps you had better explain," suggested one of the other men present. "we will mark you 'not guilty' until we have heard the case." thereupon, nat told all the circumstances connected with the sudden illness of mr. weatherby, the storm, the leak in the ship and the necessity for keeping on. captain turton was called and verified all that nat said. "hum," remarked the harbor master. "there seems to be some justification here. i will consult with my colleagues on this. we will let you know our decision shortly. you may wait here." he motioned to the men on either side of him, and they all retired to a rear room. "what do you suppose they'll do to me?" asked nat. "nothing very serious, i think," replied the captain, for he had been through such cases before, and he knew that harbor masters were disposed to stretch a point wherever possible. "and bumstead has got away again," went on nat. "he stayed just long enough to file his complaint, and then skipped out. i wonder if he knows i am after him?" "i think not," remarked captain turton, who had been told the circumstances of the lumber deal. "if he did he wouldn't venture to stay in the same port with you long enough to make a charge against you. probably he wants to make all the trouble he can for you, in the hope that you will give up this ship life, and go somewhere so that he will not have to worry about you finding out about him." "perhaps," agreed nat. the harbor master and his colleagues filed back into the room. nat tried to gather from their looks what disposition they had made of his case, but the men gave no indication, seeming to be as grave and serious as when they had gone out. "hum," mumbled the harbor master, in his deep voice. "we have considered your case, nat morton, and we wish to ask you a few questions." thereupon, nat was put through a brief examination in relation to matters connected with piloting and the management of boats. the harbor master and his colleagues asked him a lot of questions, some of which nat answered to his own satisfaction, at least. to others, more technical, he replied as best he could. fortunately his life about the docks, and his instructions at the hands of mr. weatherby, stood him in good stead. he showed a good practical knowledge of piloting, though some of the questions puzzled him, and his answers seemed to afford mirth to the harbor master and his associates. "well," remarked the harbor master after a pause, "what you did, nat, may have been irregular--in fact it was irregular, and against the rules--but, under the circumstances, we cannot blame you for it. you are doing very well, and you know more, now, than many pilots who have a license. still, you are under the age. when you reach the proper limit you will have to appear for an official examination. until then you can go on as you have been doing, only don't try to handle a boat alone in a storm. wait until you have had a little more experience. then you can come up for examination, and get a full license. this case is laid over indefinitely." "does that mean i can go?" asked nat. "yes, you can go," answered the harbor master with a smile. "and don't worry. we'll pass you, as soon as you are of the proper age. i congratulate you on your pluck," and then, to the surprise of his colleagues (for the harbor master was a somewhat gruff sort of a man), he leaned over and shook hands with nat. a little later nat and captain turton were aboard the _mermaid_. they found mr. weatherby much better, and when the repairs were completed, and the freight and passengers aboard, the ship steamed out of the harbor to resume her voyage. chapter xxi nat intervenes one of the first things nat did, when he had a chance to talk to mr. weatherby, was to repeat some of the questions that had been asked by the board of pilots, which queries the lad had not been able to answer properly. "those are the points i'm weak on," he said to his friend. "i must study up on them, so i'll be ready for my examination." "that's right, nat, and i'll help you all i can. there is a text book i want to get for you, and i will, at the next stop we make. meanwhile, i think you can take charge in the pilot-house for a few days, until i get my strength back. i'll look in on you, every once in a while, to see that you are doing all right, and we're not likely to have another storm soon." so nat resumed his place at the wheel, being relieved now and then by captain turton or mr. weatherby, who took short shifts. in a few days the old pilot was entirely better, and then he and nat divided up the work, the lad learning more about the points on which he had been puzzled during the examination. the _mermaid_ had a large number of passengers this voyage, and nat was kept pretty busy, in addition to his duties in the pilot-house. some travelers, specially favored, occupied seats at the captain's table at meal times, and this made additional work for the lad, as he had to help the cabin steward. but nat liked it all, and no task was too exacting for him to perform to the best of his ability. during his leisure moments he used to watch the passengers, and in this way he learned much about the life of the comparatively wealthy travelers. one afternoon, when the ship was within a few hours of reaching port, nat, going along the upper deck, passed a german youth, standing by the rail, looking down into the water, as it swept away from the bows of the _mermaid_. the youth, whom nat had noticed on several other occasions, because of his well-fitting clothes, appeared to be in rather low spirits. "we're making pretty good time," said nat pleasantly, for he often addressed the passengers, many of whom had formed a liking for the lad. "oh, yes, ve go fast enough," replied the german, who spoke with quite an accent. but he answered so gloomily, that the vessel might as well have been going backward, for all the satisfaction he derived from her speed. "we'll soon be in port," went on nat. "i suppose you'll be glad to get on shore. it's quite rough on account of the wind." "oh, it makes not so much difference to me," was the answer, and the youth did not smile. indeed, he hardly lifted his face to glance at nat, yet he did not seem to resent being spoken to. "it's a nice day," went on the young pilot. "yes, i suppose for dem vot likes der vedder," came the answer. "but, _ach_----" and then the german murmured something to himself in his own language. "i guess he doesn't feel well, or else he doesn't want to talk," thought nat, as he passed on. "maybe he's a bit seasick, though there's hardly any motion to-day." nat passed on, to attend to some of his duties. when he came back, about an hour later, the german youth was in the same place, moodily staring down into the water. "i wonder what ails him?" thought nat. "he acts queer. but that's the way with some germans, the least little thing makes them moody, and then, again, they're as jolly as can be. but i suppose we are all queer, in one way or another." he was half-tempted to speak to the youth again, as he passed him, but he did not want to be thought too forward, so he said nothing, nor did the german appear to notice our hero. the vessel would arrive at port in about an hour, and would tie up there for the night. it was just getting dusk, and nat was going from place to place on the ship, getting certain records of which he had charge, in shape for filing at the dock office. several times he passed by the german, who stood in the same spot, and in the same position. "he certainly is ill," mused nat. "i guess i'll tell him we have a doctor aboard. maybe he doesn't know it." nat was about to put his idea into execution, when mr. weatherby called him to perform some duty, and it was half an hour later when the young pilot made his way back again to where stood the youth in whom he had begun to feel considerable interest. "i'll just tell him where to find the doctor," thought the boy, as he approached the place where the silent figure had been leaning over the rail. but, to his surprise, the youth was not there. "he must have gone below," mused nat. "probably he feels better." an instant later he saw a strange sight. in a sheltered corner, formed by an angle of a deck-house, stood the german youth, and in the dim light from a lantern nat saw that he was removing his collar, tie, coat and vest. he was neatly folding his garments in a pile on the deck. "he must be crazy!" thought nat. "i'll call the captain." as he watched, the youth finished putting his clothes in order. then, with a deliberate step, the german approached the rail, placed his hand on it, and prepared to leap over. "suicide!" was the instant thought that came to nat. "he's going to commit suicide! i must stop him!" to think, with nat, was to act. he sprang forward with a cry of warning. "here! stop that! come back!" the german paused, hesitated an instant, glanced at nat rushing toward him, and leaped. but he was a second too late. the young pilot grabbed him around the legs, and held on like grim death. "what are you doing?" nat cried. "don't you know you'll be swept right into the propeller and be cut to pieces!" "let me go! let me go!" insisted the youth in a low, intense whisper, as though he was afraid of being heard. "not unless you promise not to jump." "i vill not make promises! i haf no use for to live! i vant to end it all! let me go!" he tried to escape from nat's hold, but the young pilot had no gentle grip, and his arms were strong. "let me go! let me go!" the german was pleading now. "not much!" panted nat. "you can't commit suicide from this boat." the german continued to struggle. nat felt the legs slipping away from him. "if you don't give up i'll call for help, and the captain will put you under arrest!" threatened the young pilot. that seemed to quiet the german. he ceased to struggle, and became calmer. "vell," he said, in a voice that was choked with tears, "i gif up. i vill not jump overboard--now." "nor at any other time," insisted nat. "i cannot promise dot, but i promise you dot i vill not jump from dis boat. i care not to live longer." nat released his hold. the german was panting from his exertions, as he donned his garments. the affair had taken place in a secluded spot, and no one had seen nat's intervention in the tragic episode. "what's the matter?" inquired the young pilot, when the german was fully dressed again. "are you sick? why did you want to end your life?" to his surprise the young fellow burst into tears, and sobbed pitifully. "come to my cabin," proposed nat gently. "perhaps i can help you." "i--i like not to go vere der peoples see me." "that's all right, i can take you to it by an outside companionway, and we'll meet no one. come, and maybe i can help you. you seem to be in trouble." "i am--in bad troubles," was the choking reply, as the youth followed nat below. chapter xxii after bumstead "now then," said nat cheerfully, when he and the youth he had saved from suicide were safely in the young pilot's cabin, "what is the matter? i don't want to pry into your affairs, but i would like to help you. if i can't, perhaps i can get some one who can. i know mr. weatherby or captain turton would be glad to aid you." "you are of much kindness to me," replied the other, while he tried to regain control of his feelings. "my name is hugo kesterberg. i used to live in new york, where i did work in a german importing house. i have been in dis country not long, so i speak not der language so goot." "i can understand you very well," said nat. "i haf a good place, und i am learning der business," went on young kesterberg, "ven an uncle of mine, in der vaterland, he die, und leave me vat you call legs--legs easy." "legacy," put in nat. "yes, dot is him, legacy. your american vords are so hard to speak right. vell, he leaves me some money, but i am a such foolish fellow. instead of putting my legs easy--i mean legacy--in der bank, i start in to have a goot time--i am vat you call a sport. i treat all my friends, und i get in vid a sporty crowd. i buy goot clothes, und i have lots of fun. "pretty soon, not long after i gets my legacy, der head of der firm vere i work, he say dey no longer needs me, for you see i am foolish, und i no longer look after my vork. but dot i lose my job make me not for to care. i still haf plenty of monies left, und i haf more good times." "then what is the trouble, if you have plenty of money?" asked nat. "the trouble with most people is that they haven't got enough." "dot's me--exactly!" exclaimed hugo. "i got to gambling und playing der races, und yesterday i found i haf not enough left, after i had been traveling about for some time, to pay my board for vun veek, in a decent place. i buys me a ticket on dis boat, for as far a distance as i haf money, und i decide i vill end it all. und so i vould, only you stop me." he added the last bitterly. "yes, i'm glad i stopped you, and you'll be glad too, before long," declared nat firmly. "why, you're no worse off than you were before. you had a lot of money, and you had a good time with it. now you'll have to go back to work again." "ach! dot's vat you americans call der rubber," said the german. "the rubber?" repeated nat, a bit puzzled. "i mean der rub--dot's vere der shoes nabs me--i mean pinch. i can't go back to my old place, und i don't know how to get vork in any odder place. dere is no use for me to live. i makes an end to myself, ven ve gets to der port." "no, you won't!" declared nat. "if you don't promise not to try to commit suicide, for at least a week, i'll inform the police about you, as soon as we land, and they'll lock you up. it's against the law to take your own life or attempt it. if you wait a week you'll be all over the notion." "a man's life iss his own--he can do vat he likes mit it." "the law doesn't say so," replied nat, who had gained his information from the newspapers. "vell, der law is wrong! i takes my own life!" "then you'll be arrested as soon as the boat lands." "arrest a kesterberg!" exclaimed the german. "dot vould be a disgrace." "so would committing suicide." the youth started. evidently he had not thought of it in that light before. "vell, i promise you--for vun week." "that's all right," said nat briskly. "i'm satisfied. i know if you wait that long you'll be in a better frame of mind. besides, i think i can help you. i'll speak to the captain and to mr. weatherby about you." "but not about--not about--what i----" "oh, no, i'll say nothing about that," promised nat. "but i know they can help you. captain turton is acquainted with lots of firms, and maybe he can get you a place with one of them." "den my troubles would be ofer," declared hugo. "if i gets me a place to vork, nefer again vill i be so foolish again. if my people in germany heard of vot i did, dey vould nefer forgive me." "they're not likely to hear of it," said nat. "now you stay here until you feel better. we're going to land pretty soon, and i'll be busy. this evening i'll speak to the captain about you." "but my ticket only takes me to dis port, und i haf no more money. i can't stay aboard." "i'll fix that all right," declared the young pilot, who was beginning to feel quite important over what he had done, which, indeed, was no light matter, for he had given hope to a hopeless youth. captain turton readily agreed to do what he could for hugo kesterberg, when, that evening, after all the freight and passengers had been discharged, nat told as much of the case as it was necessary for the commander to know. "i think i know a firm in detroit that would be glad of his services," he said. "i'll give him a letter of recommendation to them, when we reach there, which will be at the end of the week." "but--er--he hasn't any money left to pay his fare there," said nat. "that will be all right," replied captain turton. "i guess it won't break the company to give him a pass and his meals for a few days. besides, i'm not going to let you get ahead of me in doing him a good turn." three days later, when the _mermaid_ reached detroit, hugo kesterberg bade nat, and his other friends aboard the ship, good-by. with a note of recommendation to a big firm, he could face the future in better spirits. some time later nat had a letter from the german youth, stating that he had a better position than the one in new york, and was doing well. the missive was full of thanks to nat and captain turton. detroit was as far as the _mermaid_ was to go on the present voyage, and after taking on a big cargo, and quite a number of passengers, she turned about and began to traverse her way over lake huron again. captain turton went ashore at the first port they made, after leaving detroit, and when he came aboard again, he sought out nat. the captain's manner betrayed some excitement. "i have some news for you," he said to the young pilot. "am i going to be arrested again?" "not exactly. this concerns your enemy, bumstead." "have they got him? did he give up the money?" "no, but i heard from a captain friend of mine ashore a little while ago, that the _spray_ is docked at cove point, about fifty miles above here. she had to lay up for repairs. she's an old boat and her engines are continually getting out of order." "are we going to stop there?" asked nat eagerly. "no, but i know what you are thinking of. there is a chance to cause the arrest of the mate, and here is my plan. you can take a train from here to cove point. the railroad runs quite near there. you have the warrant, made out by the police. take that with you, and the authorities in cove point will make the arrest, i'm sure." "but how can i get back to this boat?" "i'll tell you. there is a train that leaves here at midnight, which will get you to cove point about two o'clock in the morning. the police are up at all hours. you can get them to serve the warrant at once, for bumstead will probably be aboard the _spray_ at her dock. then, after he is safe in jail, you can hire a boat to take you out, and i'll pick you up as i pass. i'll be on the watch for you to-morrow morning." the plan was very feasible, and nat thanked the captain for his thoughtfulness. he made his arrangements hurriedly, and began to have visions of recovering the money that was rightfully his. "be out about two miles beyond the point at about nine o'clock to-morrow morning," the captain called to him, as nat left. "that's the time i'll pass, and as close in as i can run." "i'll be there waiting for you," promised nat. "good luck!" called the pilot. "i hope you get him. that bumstead is getting to be as slippery as an eel." "i'll get him, if he's there," declared the lad. then he hurried to the railroad station to get his ticket, for it was after ten o'clock, and the depot was some distance from the water front. chapter xxiii bumstead escapes when nat found himself in the train, speeding toward cove point, he had a chance to think how he should proceed after he arrived. he anticipated no difficulty in getting a policeman to go to the boat and arrest the mate. "maybe sam shaw will want to take a hand, and fight me," thought nat. "well, if he does, i'll give him all that's coming to him." the train was a slow one, and made a number of stops. when about half way on the journey there was a delay, caused by the wreck of a freight train, and it was nearly three o'clock when nat arrived at the railroad station in cove point. this was a small town, depending for its existence on what traffic passed up and down the lake, and what little patronage came to it over the railroad. "where's the police station?" asked nat of a sleepy man at the depot. "they don't allow tramps to sleep in it any more," was the rather queer answer. "tramps? who asked anything about tramps?" replied nat. "i don't want to sleep there." "oh, excuse me," said the agent, opening his sleepy eyes a bit wider. "i didn't take a good look at you. i thought you were a tramp. lots of 'em come in on our trains, and want to spend the night at the police station. they'd let themselves be arrested because the sheriff used to get so much a prisoner. but the county authorities put a stop to it. what's the matter? some one rob you?" "no," replied nat, determined to keep his affairs to himself. "some crime been committed?" persisted the agent, for he thought it was rather unusual for a boy to be asking his way to the police station at three o'clock in the morning. "i want to see a policeman," replied nat, "and i thought the best place would be the station house." "there used to be a policeman stationed here nights," went on the agent. "but he's gone now. if it was anything about the railroad i could attend to it for you." "no, thank you. if you'll tell me where the station house is, i'll be much obliged." the agent seemed disappointed, but he gave nat the directions. "i don't see what harm it would have done him to have told me," murmured the man, when nat had gone off down the dark street. "it would help to keep me awake, if i had something like a crime or an arrest to think about. well, i might as well doze off; it'll be two hours before the down freight is in," and he composed himself as comfortably as he could in his chair in the telegraph office. meanwhile, our hero managed to find the police station. inside there was a sergeant on duty, who looked up inquiringly as nat entered. "well?" he asked. "i have a warrant for a man's arrest." "are you a detective from some other city? where's your badge?" asked the sergeant suspiciously. "no, i'm not a detective. i'm the person who made the complaint on which this warrant was issued," and nat showed the one which had been returned by mr. scanlon. the sergeant seemed impressed by the boy's business-like manner. "come inside," he invited, opening a gate in a railing that shut off the part of the room behind the desk. "now tell me about it." nat told his tale as briefly as possible. "and you want me to send an officer out to the ship with you, and arrest the mate?" inquired the sergeant when the young pilot had finished. "if you will." "guess we'll have to, under the law. i'll be glad to help you out. it's a mean trick to take money in that fashion. hey, george! i say, george! get up, here's a case for you." "what's that?" inquired a sleepy voice from a room back of the sergeant's desk. "you've got to go out and arrest a man." "oh, can't somebody else go? i arrested a feller last night. i ain't going to do all the work in this police station." "look here, george rosco!" called the sergeant, getting up, and going to the door of the room, where, evidently, the only policeman on duty was asleep, "you've got to get up, and go and arrest this man. there's a warrant for him, and he's charged with embezzling fifteen hundred dollars. he's mate aboard that freight steamer that's tied up here for repairs." "fifteen hundred dollars! why didn't you say so at first?" exclaimed the policeman, appearing in the doorway, half dressed. "that's worth while arresting a man for. i thought it was another one of them chicken-stealing cases. fifteen hundred dollars! i'll be ready in a jiffy! whew! fifteen hundred----" the rest of what he said was lost to nat and the sergeant, as the officer closed the door, while he dressed. when he came out he greeted nat cordially. "i don't mind being woke up for a case like that," he explained. "i thought it was some measly tramp case. for the last three nights i've been woke up by people whose henroosts have been robbed. i'm getting tired of it, and when the sergeant called me a while ago, i thought it was another one. you see, we've only got two policemen here, and i don't mind telling you that i do most of the arrestin' that's done. the other one--tom duncan--he's too lazy to arrest many. i do two to his one. i'm on night duty and he takes the day trick." nat could not help thinking that the night man had the easier time of it, even if he did make the most arrests. "now here's the warrant, george," said the sergeant. "bring that fellow in, and we'll lock him up." "oh, i'll bring him in all right. he'll not get away from me. let's see, i've got my revolver and my club. guess i'm all right." "you go right along with him," the sergeant directed nat. "point out the man you want and he'll bring him in." "yes, i'll get him," declared george. he started from the police station, followed by nat. when he reached the door, the officer suddenly turned back. "come near forgetting my badge," he said, in explanation. "it wouldn't do to arrest a man without my badge. he might think it was only a bluff. give me my badge, sergeant." "first you know, you'll forget your head," murmured the sergeant, as he passed over a big tin star. "i take it off when i lay down for a nap of an evening," the policeman said to nat. "some of the points might stick me, and i'd get blood poisoning. you can't be too careful in this business. i knowed a policeman once----" "say, if you're going to arrest that man you'd better get a move on," advised the sergeant. "that boat's due to leave at daylight, i heard, and it ain't far from it now." "all right, i'm going now. i'll be back in a little while with the prisoner. get a cell ready for him." "oh, the cell will be ready when you are." "fifteen hundred dollars," murmured the policeman, as he and nat went out into the night. "this will be a fine arrest. tom duncan will wish he made this one." "we'd better hurry," suggested nat. "he may escape." "don't worry about that. no prisoner ever got away from me," boasted the officer. it was not far to the dock where the _spray_ was tied up. even in the darkness nat knew the boat. he wondered if the mate was aboard. once he reached the ship, the officer's manner changed. he proceeded cautiously, and seemed to know what he was about. "do you know which his cabin is?" he asked of nat, in a whisper. "no, but i know where the mate usually sleeps aboard these boats." "you go ahead then." the young pilot led the way. though he had never been aboard the _spray_ he thought he could find where bumstead slept. fortunately, they did not meet the anchor watch, who was probably asleep. "this ought to be his cabin," said nat, indicating one in the same relative position as that occupied by the mate aboard the _jessie drew_. "then i'll go in and get him," said the officer. it was beginning to get light, a streak of dawn showing in the east. the policeman pushed open the cabin door, which was not locked. "is joseph bumstead here?" he asked in loud tones. "that's me. what's wanted?" was the answer, and nat recognized the mate's voice. "come out here," said the officer. he backed out of the cabin, and in the growing light nat saw that he had his revolver drawn. wondering what could be wanted of him, bumstead jumped out of his bunk, partly dressed. "you're my prisoner!" suddenly exclaimed the policeman, throwing back his coat to display the big star. at the same time he grabbed the mate with one hand, and in the other leveled his weapon at him. "what's the trouble? is this a joke?" demanded the mate. "you'll find it quite different from a joke," replied the officer. "i have a warrant for your arrest, sworn out by nat morton, charging you with the embezzlement of fifteen hundred dollars. you'll have to come with me." at that moment the mate caught sight of nat, who stood to one side. "so! this is your work, eh?" he cried. "well, i'll not go with you! you haven't got me yet!" with a sudden motion he broke away from the officer. "hold on or i'll shoot!" threatened the policeman. "shoot then!" cried the mate. [illustration: "shoot, then!" cried the mate (page 180)] he ran to the rail. an instant later he had mounted it, poised on the top a moment, and with a shout of defiance he leaped over the side. a splash in the water told that he had landed in the lake. "stop! hold on!" yelled the officer, as he rushed to the side. "come back or i'll shoot!" he peered down into the water. there was no sign of the mate. by this time several members of the crew were aroused and were on the deck. "what's the matter?" cried a voice that nat recognized as sam shaw's. "prisoner escaped!" exclaimed the policeman. "can you see him?" he asked of nat, who stood beside him, in the early dawn. the boy shook his head in disappointment. "he's got away, i guess," he said. "get me a boat!" cried the officer. "i'll find him if it takes all day. come on!" chapter xxiv in a collision with the increase of daylight, objects on and about the freighter became clearer. but looking over the side nat and the policeman could see nothing of the mate. members of the crew who had hastily leaped from their bunks began asking what the matter was. soon the captain came from his cabin. "they've killed my uncle!" exclaimed sam shaw. "that's what they did! i heard them throw him overboard. that mean nat morton did it! i'll have him arrested for murder!" "oh, dry up!" exclaimed nat, quite put out with the unexpected turn of events. "i'll lick you; that's what i'll do!" cried sam, advancing on nat with outstretched fists. "keep away from me!" retorted nat. "i whipped you once, and i can do it again!" "he didn't push your uncle overboard," said one of the crew. "he jumped." "that's what he did," added the policeman. "he got away from me, too. somebody get me a boat." "what for?" asked the captain. "because i'm an officer of the law, and a prisoner has escaped. i had him a prisoner, all right, for i had my hand on him, but he went so sudden he got away." "there's a boat moored alongside," said the captain, when matters had been briefly explained. "but you want to hurry. i can't lay here all day, though how i'm going to sail without a mate is more than i know." "i'll get him for you, but i'll have to take him right away again," said the officer. "he's a criminal and a fugitive from justice." the mate might have been almost anything, as far as any denial on his part was concerned, for not a trace of him had been seen since he jumped overboard. sam shaw, mean as he was, had a genuine affection for his uncle, and he was much distressed about his relative. "he's drowned! i know he's drowned!" he exclaimed, as he walked about the deck, half crying. "oh, dry up!" advised nat savagely, for he knew the mate was a good swimmer, and he had no doubt but that bumstead had managed to reach shore, under cover of the semi-darkness, and was far enough away by this time. meanwhile, the policeman got into a boat and rowed about, but all to no purpose. the mate had disappeared as completely as if he was at the bottom of the lake. "well," said nat, much disappointed, "that's done with. it's a failure. i guess i'd have done better if i'd gone alone, and not taken the policeman with me, though he meant well enough. now i'd better get some breakfast and then arrange to have some one row me out to meet the _mermaid_." he told the officer that he would have to leave. "very well," replied the policeman. "you may go, but i'll never give up hunting for my prisoner. it's the first time one ever got away from me, and i'm not going to stand it. i'll keep hunting until i find him, if it takes all day or a whole year. you had better leave me your address, and as soon as i arrest him, i'll let you know." "i don't believe that would do any good. i travel about so, on the boat, that i can't tell just what my address will be. you had better give me the warrant; i may run across him at some other port." rather reluctantly the policeman gave up the legal document. "i wish i had handcuffed him at first," he said. "then he couldn't have gotten away, and if he jumped in the water he would have been drowned." "i wouldn't care about having that happen," said nat. "me either, though i hate to let a prisoner get away. but i'll catch him yet, you see." and when nat had gone ashore, eaten his breakfast in a little restaurant, and was being rowed out to be picked up by the _mermaid_, the policeman was still searching about the dock and adjacent shore for the missing mate. captain turton and the pilot sympathized with nat over the failure of his mission, but they said bumstead was sure to be arrested sooner or later. "he'll probably transfer to some other boat, now," said nat. "very likely," answered mr. weatherby. "he knows you are after him, and it's going to be harder to arrest him." the _mermaid_ proceeded on her way, and for some time nat was so occupied with his work, for there was a great increase in passenger traffic, that he almost forgot about the rascally mate and the stolen money. meanwhile, as my young readers have probably surmised, bumstead had safely reached shore and had arranged to keep out of the way of officers of the law. the sudden appearance of the policeman in his cabin had been the first intimation that there was a warrant for his arrest, and that nat knew of his appropriation of the fifteen hundred dollars belonging to mr. morton. it is true the mate had fancied nat was suspicious, after the lad had seen the wallet, and questioned him about it, but, when some time passed, and nothing resulted, the scoundrel thought that nat either had his suspicions lulled, or did not know how to go about recovering the money. that a previous plan to arrest him had failed, by his shift of vessels, the mate never dreamed. now he knew he must make another change. it would not be safe to remain aboard the _spray_. accordingly, when he had reached shore, after his sensational leap for liberty, he sought refuge with a man he knew at cove point. he remained there until he heard that nat had left, and that the policeman, very reluctantly, had given up the search. then the mate sent for his nephew, and the pair took what money was coming to them and left town. about two weeks after this the mate secured a place on the freighter _liberty bell_, which plied up and down lake huron. "uncle joe, what did that officer want?" asked sam shaw of his relative, one day, when he happened to mention their former place aboard the _spray_. "was it in connection with that charge you made against nat before the pilot board?" "well--er--yes--that was it. they wanted my testimony." "why don't you give it to them? i'd like to see that morton chap locked up. how did he escape being sent to jail on your charge?" "i don't exactly know," replied the mate. "i guess he is only out on bail." "i hope they send him to prison for a long time. i can't bear him, he's so stuck up, thinking he's a regular pilot." "well, i'll fix him," murmured the mate. he did not want his nephew to know about the accusation nat had made, for he was afraid sam might, unconsciously, betray him. nor was the mate altogether easy regarding the charge he had made before the pilot board. he had read in the papers about that case, and how he was wanted for contempt of court. he thus had to face two charges, and he knew he must be very careful when he went ashore, lest he be arrested. "we'll meet the vessel that morton fellow is on, this trip, uncle joe," went on sam. "how's that?" "well, we're going to bay city, and the _mermaid_ is coming to detroit, according to the papers." "is that so?" asked the mate, suddenly interested. "i wonder where we'll pass her?" "about ludlow's island," answered sam, who was developing a good knowledge of the lakes. "ludlow's island," repeated the mate. "the channel there is quite narrow. we'll have to pass quite close." "do you think he'll see you, uncle joe?" "no--of course not. what does it matter? i'm not keeping out of his way. i had certain reasons for not wanting that officer to take me to court; that's why i leaped overboard that time." "oh," answered sam, who had not heard the explanation given by nat and the policeman. "so we'll pass his vessel quite close," murmured the mate, when his nephew had left him. "that's my chance. if i can be left in charge of the wheel i think i can make nat morton wish he had never interfered with me. let's see, we ought to get to ludlow's island to-morrow night. i hope it's dark or foggy." meanwhile, all unconscious of the perils in store for him, nat was, that same day, guiding the vessel of which he was now officially the assistant pilot toward detroit. "it's going to be a thick night," said mr. weatherby, as nat relieved him in the pilot-house, the evening of the day after the conversation set down above between sam shaw and his uncle. "i think there will be quite a fog before morning. don't take any chances. if you're in doubt call me, but i'd like you to try your hand at taking the ship past ludlow's island. it's one of the worst places in the lake, and when you've been through that, in a fog, you're almost entitled to a pilot's license." "i'll try it, mr. weatherby." "that's the way to talk." as the night came on the fog increased, until nat decided he would slow down to half speed. the bell and whistle were kept going at regular intervals, and two men were stationed in the bow as lookouts. it was close to midnight when nat, who had decided to ask to be relieved, for he was a little doubtful of his ability under such bad conditions, saw through the haze another vessel approaching. he was in the narrowest part of the channel. "there isn't time to send word to mr. weatherby now," he thought. "i'll wait until i pass that ship. then i'll go below, for i'm getting nervous here." the two vessels were approaching nearer and nearer to each other. if nat had been aware that the ship he was about to pass was the one on which was his enemy, the mate, doubtless he would have been more nervous than he was. "he seems to be crowding too close over this way," thought nat. "guess i'll give him a caution signal." he pulled the whistle wire sharply. short blasts came forth from the _mermaid's_ hoarse siren. to nat's surprise the other vessel, instead of keeping away from him, in the narrow channel, seemed to be coming closer. "doesn't he know enough to keep away, and on his own course?" said the young pilot half aloud. he waited with an anxiously beating heart, and at the same time looked around to see if anybody else was near. "oh, if only mr. weatherby was here now!" he told himself. never had he missed the old pilot so much as at this moment. for one instant he thought of yelling for assistance, but knew it would be useless, for his voice would not carry far enough. he was in sole charge and must do the best he could. "perhaps that other pilot is drunk," he murmured, and then shut his teeth hard. he was "up against it good and hard," and he realized it only too well. he trembled in spite of himself, and an icy chill began to creep up and down his backbone. he gave another signal. then, as he watched, he saw the prow of the other vessel turn toward him. "he's going to ram me!" exclaimed nat. quickly he gave another signal, and then he rang for full speed astern. but it was too late. with a crash the other vessel was upon him, though the result was different from what might have been expected. the _mermaid_ was a steel boat, while the _liberty bell_ was an old wooden one. instead of the bow of the latter crashing into the hull of the passenger steamer, the bow of the freight boat crumpled up like paper, being smashed into kindling wood up as far as the pilot-house, part of which was demolished. there was a confused ringing of bells and blowing of whistles, and then both vessels came to a stop. chapter xxv bumstead's arrest--conclusion with the first sound of the crash captain turton and mr. weatherby were out of their berths, and on deck. the searchlight of the _mermaid_ showed plainly what had occurred. neither boat was dangerously damaged, the passenger steamer hardly suffering at all. captain turton took this in at a glance, and then, with the assistance of the mates, he quieted the frightened passengers. "how did it happen, nat?" asked mr. weatherby gravely. "that fellow went wrong!" exclaimed nat, in his nervous excitement. "whoever was steering that boat gave the wrong signals. i'm positive of that. twice i warned him to keep away, but he kept crowding me closer, until he rammed me. it was his fault." "there will have to be an investigation," said the pilot. "i'm sorry this happened." "ahoy the _mermaid_!" came a hail from the other boat. "what's the matter with you fellows, anyhow? can't you keep on your own side of the channel? my bows are stove in, and you've injured one of my men!" "who are you?" called back the pilot. "captain carter, of the _liberty bell_." "it was your steersman's fault," shouted mr. weatherby. "are you in any danger?" "no, but i'm going to lay-to until morning, and then i want to know who's going to settle for my damage." "we'll see you in the morning, then," was the pilot's answer. nat passed an uneasy night. though he knew the fault of the collision was not his, he worried lest he might not be able to prove it. there might be an old pilot in the other vessel--a pilot up to all sorts of tricks, who, even if he was wrong, could so make matters appear as to throw the blame on nat. "if he does, that ends my career as a pilot," thought our hero. soon after breakfast captain turton, with the pilot and nat, went aboard the other vessel. her bow was quite badly damaged, but the break did not extend below the waterline. "did you say some of your men were injured?" asked captain turton, when he had greeted the commander of the _liberty bell_. "yes, sir, my mate, joseph bumstead. his leg is broken." "what?" cried nat and the pilot in the same breath. "bumstead is his name. i don't see anything peculiar in that," replied captain carter, looking at the two in surprise. "well, as it happens, there is something peculiar about it," went on captain turton. "we have a warrant for his arrest on a serious charge. however, if his leg is broken, he isn't very likely to get away, and i think we can proceed with the investigation. i want to find out who is to blame for this." "your steersman, of course," was captain carter's quick answer. "it's natural you should say that. but we'll see." several members of the crew of both vessels were called as witnesses. nat told his story, of how he had tried to warn the other vessel away, and how the steersman of it had persisted in crowding him. "by the way, who is your pilot?" asked mr. weatherby. "i haven't seen him since i came aboard." "i have no regular pilot," answered captain carter. "my mate, mr. bumstead, whom i recently engaged, was steering when the collision occurred. he told me he could qualify as a pilot." "hum," remarked mr. weatherby. "i think it will be a good plan to question bumstead." "he's in his bunk." "then we'll go there. come, nat." the rascally mate started when he saw the boy, and his face, that was flushed with a slight fever, grew pale. "well, you've caught me, i see," he fairly snarled. "but luck is against me." "yes, we've caught you in more ways than one," said the pilot. "how do you mean?" "i mean that you gave the wrong signals last night, either intentionally or through ignorance, and that you caused this collision." "who says so?" "half a dozen witnesses. members of your own crew, for that matter." "my own crew?" "yes." "i don't believe it." "it is true, nevertheless." "name the men," growled bumstead. he was suffering considerably, yet he still had some fight in him. for reply two of the deckhands were called in, and each, after much urging, told his story in detail. "that ain't true," growled the mate, but his voice sounded weak and uncertain. "it is true," cried one of the men. bumstead had treated him roughly the day previous, and he was glad of a chance to "square accounts." "so it is--every word," put in the second deckhand who had been summoned. "you are all against me," muttered the mate. "it's a plot, i reckon." "no plot at all," cried captain turton. "we are simply bound to get at the bottom of this affair." to this joseph bumstead made no reply. "i'd like to know why you told me that you could qualify as a pilot," put in captain carter, and his voice had anything but a pleasant ring to it. "i can qualify." "i don't believe it." "he is no pilot, and never was," said nat. "he has done very little steering." "you don't know what i've done," growled the mate. "yes, i do know!" exclaimed the boy quickly. "i know a good bit more than you think i do." "ha! what do you mean by that?" "you'll find out later. we'll settle one question at a time." "see here, bumstead, you might as well own up that you were responsible," said mr. weatherby. "if you try to stick it out you'll only make matters worse. to my way of thinking, you ran into us on purpose." "no! no! i--i----" the mate hesitated, not knowing how to proceed. "come, out with it." "well--er--if you must know the truth, i--er--i got confused." "confused!" roared captain carter. "ye-es. i--er--i had a headache, and i got a sudden spell of blindness. i--er--i wanted to put the wheel over, but before i could get straightened out the damage was done." "i don't believe a word of that!" exclaimed captain turton. "he is a rascal!" "no! no! i was confused--i swear it!" groaned the mate. all the remaining courage was oozing out of him. "i did my best to clear your vessel, but i simply couldn't do it." captain carter turned to one of his hands. "did he act confused, so far as you know?" he questioned. "i don't know about that," answered the man. "he sure didn't steer the boat right." "i sometimes get those dizzy spells," said bumstead. "they come on me without warning. when they do come i don't know what i am doing for the minute." "you should have told me of this before," said captain carter. "i--er--i was afraid i'd lose my job if i did. but i was confused, i swear i was. otherwise, i should never have run into that other boat." they had to let it go at that, since there was no direct proof of any intentional desire to smash into the _mermaid_, and the charge was too grave to take any chances on. but it was satisfactorily proved that the mate did give the wrong signals, and that nat was not to blame. "now that is over, we have another matter against you," went on mr. weatherby. "i presume you know what it is, bumstead." "yes," said the other in a low voice. "nat, go ashore and call an officer," said the pilot. "don't do that!" begged the mate. "i'll confess everything, and i'll pay the money back with interest." "then you admit that you kept the fifteen hundred dollars you were to deliver to mr. morton's son?" "yes. it was a great temptation, after i cashed the lumber certificates. i needed the money badly, and i kept it. i meant to pay it back, but i--i couldn't." "and will you pay back the money on the note?" "every penny, with interest, if you don't have me arrested." "what do you say, nat?" asked mr. weatherby. "i have no desire to see him arrested, though i think he tried to injure me in other ways than by keeping this money from me. but i forgive him," answered the boy. "i think that is the best way," went on the pilot. "you have been punished almost enough, bumstead. i hope it will be a lesson to you." "it will. mr. morton was kind to me, and i treated his son very wrong. i'm--i'm sorry," and the mate turned his face away, so they would not see him weeping. nat was glad to get away from the sad scene. on his way out he passed sam shaw, but that youth had nothing to say, and he turned aside. "i feel that i owe you an apology," said captain carter to captain turton. "i'll discharge that rascal of a mate and his red-headed nephew, too." about two weeks later, through the efforts of mr. scanlon, the lawyer who took charge of the case for nat, the entire sum appropriated by the mate, together with interest for two years, was recovered, and turned over to the young pilot, who also received his father's wallet, which he prized very much. bumstead and sam lost their places on the _liberty bell_, and at last accounts they were working as laborers aboard a grain barge, for the mate had to sell his shares in the _jessie drew_ to pay nat what was coming to the boy. sam confessed his trick about the cigarettes, and captain marshall, when he heard about it, begged nat's pardon in a letter. "well," said mr. weatherby to nat one day, "since you have come into your inheritance, i suppose you'll give up learning to be a pilot?" "indeed, i shall not. i'm going to spend a couple of terms at school, and then i'm coming back with you again. i want to see my old friends, mr. and mrs. miller, and do something for them, in return for their kindness to me. i'm going to be a pilot yet, and, i hope, a good one." "there is no question but what you will, if you keep on as you have been going," returned mr. weatherby. nat used part of the money to better his education, and he gave a goodly sum to his kind friends, so that they were able to live in better circumstances. then the young pilot resumed his work aboard a big passenger steamer, mr. weatherby coaching him, until the aged man said nat knew as much as he did, if not more. to-day, one of the best pilots on the great lakes is nat morton, who once was a wharf-rat about the chicago water front. but he won his place through pluck and after not a few perils. the end the webster series by frank v. webster [illustration: bob the castaway] mr. webster's style is very much like that of the boys' favorite author, the late lamented horatio alger, jr., but his tales are thoroughly up-to-date. cloth. 12mo. over 200 pages each. illustrated. stamped in various colors. price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid. =only a farm boy= _or dan hardy's rise in life_ =the boy from the ranch= _or roy bradner's city experiences_ =the young treasure hunter= _or fred stanley's trip to alaska_ =the boy pilot of the lakes= _or nat morton's perils_ =tom the telephone boy= _or the mystery of a message_ =bob the castaway= _or the wreck of the eagle_ =the newsboy partners= _or who was dick box?_ =two boy gold miners= _or lost in the mountains_ =the young firemen of lakeville= _or herbert dare's pluck_ =the boys of bellwood school= _or frank jordan's triumph_ =jack the runaway= _or on the road with a circus_ =bob chester's grit= _or from ranch to riches_ =airship andy= _or the luck of a brave boy_ =high school rivals= _or fred markham's struggles_ =darry the life saver= _or the heroes of the coast_ =dick the bank boy= _or a missing fortune_ =ben hardy's flying machine= _or making a record for himself_ =harry watson's high school days= _or the rivals of rivertown_ =comrades of the saddle= _or the young rough riders of the plains_ =tom taylor at west point= _or the old army officer's secret_ =the boy scouts of lennox= _or hiking over big bear mountain_ =the boys of the wireless= _or a stirring rescue from the deep_ =cowboy dave= _or the round-up at rolling river_ =jack of the pony express= _or the young rider of the mountain trail_ =the boys of the battleship= _or for the honor of uncle sam_ cupples & leon co., publishers. new york the boy ranchers series by willard f. baker _12mo. cloth. illustrated. jacket in full colors_ [illustration: the boy ranchers in camp] _price per volume, 65 cents, postpaid_ _stories of the great west, with cattle ranches as a setting, related in such a style as to captivate the hearts of all boys._ =1. the boy ranchers= _or solving the mystery at diamond x_ two eastern boys visit their cousin. they become involved in an exciting mystery. =2. the boy ranchers in camp= _or the water fight at diamond x_ returning for a visit, the two eastern lads learn, with delight, that they are to become boy ranchers. =3. the boy ranchers on the trail= _or the diamond x after cattle rustlers_ our boy heroes take the trail after del pinzo and his outlaws. =4. the boy ranchers among the indians= _or trailing the yaquis_ rosemary and floyd are captured by the yaqui indians but the boy ranchers trailed them into the mountains and effected the rescue. =5. the boy ranchers at spur creek= _or fighting the sheep herders_ dangerous struggle against desperadoes for land rights brings out heroic adventures. =6. the boy ranchers in the desert= _or diamond x and the lost mine_ one night a strange old miner almost dead from hunger and hardship arrived at the bunk house. the boys cared for him and he told them of the lost desert mine. =7. the boy ranchers on roaring river= _or diamond x and the chinese smugglers_ the boy ranchers help capture delton's gang who were engaged in smuggling chinese across the border. _send for our free illustrated catalogue_ cupples & leon company, publishers new york * * * * * transcriber's note: a list of illustrations, which was not present in the original edition, has been created for this electronic text. in addition, the following typographical errors present in the original print edition have been corrected. in chapter v, "shaking his first" was changed to "shaking his fist". in chapter viii, "he knew it would take him several years engineer set in operation the powerful pumps, to be a capable one, but he determined to get a good ground work or the higher branches of it, and so he listened carfully to all that mr. weatherby told him." was changed to "he knew it would take him several years to be a capable one, but he determined to get a good ground work or the higher branches of it, and so he listened carefully to all that mr. weatherby told him." in chapter xi, a missing quotation mark was added after "i never put it there". in chapter xvi, "let him have the whole businesss" was changed to "let him have the whole business". in chapter xvii, "the sanlons wanted to begin their trip" was changed to "the scanlons wanted to begin their trip". in chapter xviii, "the other vessed" was changed to "the other vessel". in chapter xx, an extraneous quotation mark was removed after "no, sir". in chapter xxiii, "throwing back his boat" was changed to "throwing back his coat". fenn masterson's discovery or the darewell chums on a cruise by allen chapman author of "bart stirling's road to success," "working hard to win," "bound to succeed," "the young storekeeper," "nat borden's find," etc. [illustration: _the_ goldsmith _publishing co._ cleveland ohio made in u.s.a.] copyright, 1909, by cupples & leon company contents chapter page i. an automobile accident 1 ii. a mysterious cave 11 iii. saving the auto 22 iv. planning a cruise 30 v. captain wiggs's proposal 39 vi. in peril 45 vii. an elevator blaze 52 viii. fenn hears something 61 ix. off again 71 x. the chase 78 xi. on lake huron 85 xii. ned gets a fish 92 xiii. caught in the lock 99 xiv. mysterious strangers 108 xv. a queer find 115 xvi. fire on board 123 xvii. a strange vision 133 xviii. an exploring party 140 xix. fenn becomes ill 147 xx. out on a hunt 155 xxi. the chinese button 162 xxii. fenn's mishap 171 xxiii. the search 180 xxiv. fenn is captured 188 xxv. an unexpected meeting 194 xxvi. fenn's odd discovery 202 xxvii. a timely rescue 213 xxviii. ruth tells her secret 220 xxix. a baffling search 230 xxx. the discovery--conclusion 239 fenn masterson's discovery chapter i an automobile accident "hello!" exclaimed fenn masterson, as he opened the front door of his home, in response to a ring, and admitted his chum, bart keene. "glad to see you, bart. come on in." "what's the matter with you?" demanded bart, throwing a strap full of books into a corner of the hall, as if he cared very little for the volumes. "why weren't you at school to-day, stumpy?" "oh, i was a little hoarse this morning--" "what are you now; a mule?" inquired bart. "no--oh, hang it, you know what i mean--" "sure!" interrupted bart. "you slept in a stable last night, and, when you woke up you were a little horse. i know." "i had a little cold this morning," went on fenn. "mother made me stay home. thought i was going into consumption, i guess. i'm all right now." "gee, i wish my mother had made me stay home to-day," proceeded bart. "the algebra lesson was fierce. we all slumped." "what! you don't mean to say the professor floored frank roscoe?" and fenn looked much surprised. "yes, and ned wilding, too. i tell you, stumpy, it was a good thing you slept in that barn and became a little horse, or you'd have gone down to defeat on that problem about multiplying sixteen x, y, z's by the square root of the difference between--" "pooh! that's easy," declared fenn. "i remember it." "easy? here, let's see you do it!" exclaimed bart, and he grabbed the bundle of books and proceeded to take out the algebra. "never mind--there's no hurry about it. i'll show you later," spoke fenn. "besides, i've got to take my cough medicine now. come on up to my room." "cough medicine?" repeated bart, with a reproachful look at his chum. "yes, cough medicine," answered stumpy, seeing that his visitor rather doubted him. "mom made me take it. it's awful nasty stuff, full of tar and horehound and pine--ugh! i hate it." "moral, don't try to fool your mother and pretend you have a sore throat, when you don't want to go to school for an algebra exam.," said bart solemnly. "no, honest, i did have a sore throat this morning," declared fenn. "it's all better now. i guess i don't have to take that medicine. but come on up to my room. i've just got a fine collection of minerals." "minerals?" "yes, i'm going to collect them now. i sent for a small case, of various kinds, and i'm going to add to it. there are lots of minerals in this section of the state." "let's see, the last thing you were collecting was indian arrow heads," said bart, in musing tones; "before that it was postage stamps, and before that, postmarks. then, once, i remember, it was jackknives, and before that--" "oh, let up!" begged fenn. "are any of the other fellows coming over?" "before that it was butterflies," went on bart relentlessly. "i guess your mineral collecting craze will last about as long as any of the others, stumpy." "well, all the others were too much trouble," declared fenn, trying to justify himself. "it's no fun to be sticking stamps and postmarks in a book, and i had to chase all over the country after butterflies." "to say nothing of getting on bad terms with half the boys in the school for trading them poor knives for good ones, when you had that craze," remarked bart. "oh, i intend to make a fine collection of minerals," declared fenn. "i'll not get tired of that. you see minerals are easy to get. all you have to do is to pick up stones as you walk along. you put them in your pockets and, when you get home, you look in the catalog, see what kind they are, so as to label 'em, and put 'em in one of the little numbered squares of the cabinet. why, collecting minerals is fun. besides, it's valuable information. i might discover--" "sure, of course. oh, yes--you might discover a gold mine or a hole filled with diamonds!" interrupted bart. "oh, stumpy, i'm afraid you're a hopeless case." "wait until you see my minerals," asserted the stout youth, as he led the way up to his room. "when are the other fellows coming over?" "oh, ned'll be along right away. frank roscoe said he had to go on an errand for his father. they both are anxious to see what sort of a game you worked so's to stay home to-day. they might want to try it themselves." the two chums were soon busy inspecting the case of stones which fenn had bought. there were small samples of ore, spar, crystals and various queer rocks. "there's a piece of stone i found out near the river," said fenn, pointing to a fragment of a bright red color. "maybe it's a new kind of ruby. i'm going to show it to a jeweler." "it's red glass!" declared bart. "it is not!" "i tell you it is! look, it's a piece of a bottle. you can see where it curved for the bottom," and he pointed it out to fenn. "i guess you're right," admitted the collector, as he tossed the red object away. "never mind, i'll get some good specimens yet. hello, there's ned's whistle," and he looked out of the window, which, as it was late in june, was wide open. "come on up, ned!" he called, "bart's here!" "coming!" cried ned. "lower the drawbridge and raise the portcullis! lord mount saint dennis morency caldwalder de nois approaches!" "yes, i guess it is 'de noise' all right," murmured bart. "since he's been studying french history he's been getting off such nonsense as that every chance he has." "greeting, fair and noble sirs!" cried ned wilding, reaching the door of fenn's room, for, like the other chums, he had the run of the house, "greeting, most noble lords of the high justice, the middle and the low. i give thee greeting!" "and i give thee that!" interrupted bart, putting out his foot, and, with a sly motion, upsetting ned as he was making a low, exaggerated bow. "first down! ten yards to gain!" he cried good-naturedly, as he arose, for ned was a lively, quick-witted youth, full of fun, and never serious for more than a minute at a time. "i hope that jarred some of the foolishness out of you," observed bart. suddenly a head was poked in the open window, and a voice exclaimed: "gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself. i am the original and only genuine second-story burglar!" "frank roscoe!" exclaimed fenn. "how did you get there?" "climbed up over the porch," replied the newcomer. "i rang the bell until i was tired, and nobody answered." "that's so, i forgot. mother's out this afternoon and there's no one down stairs. but why didn't you do as ned did, walk in? the door's not locked. i didn't hear you ring." "i prefer this method of stealing into houses," replied frank, a tall dark youth, as he bounded from the window sill into the room. "it's more romantic. besides i needed exercise, and it was easy climbing up the porch pillar." "don't give us any romance," begged bart. "no, don't," advised ned, rubbing his thigh where he had come down rather heavily. "the days of romance are dead." "that's not the only thing that's dead in this town," put in fenn. "things are getting rather dull. we need some excitement to keep us awake." the two newcomers soon learned the reason for fenn's absence from school that day. they examined his cabinet of minerals and made more or less sarcastic comments about his new fad. "yes," went on bart, after a pause. "i wish we could have some fun, as we did when we were off camping in the woods, last summer." "and rescued frank's father from that sanitarium," put in ned. "well, we had a pretty lively time when you slipped off to new york, and the lodging-house keeper held you a prisoner, ned," said bart. "you had some romance then." "not the right kind," declared ned. "i'd like some more fun such as we had when the king of papricka tried to fool us." "sure! when we got carried away in the captive balloon," added frank. "that was a time!" "and do you remember when we fastened the ladder on the donkey's back, the night we were going to rescue frank's father," suggested fenn? "how he ran away in the woods?" "yes, and how it rained," put in ned. "gee, that was fierce!" "but we had a good time," remarked frank. "father can never forget how much you boys did for him." "it wasn't anything!" exclaimed ned. "say, do you remember when they thought we blew up the school with dynamite?" "do i? i should guess yes," replied ned. "yes, and how ned thought he was going to become a millionaire with that investment which made him a fugitive!" spoke bart. "oh, yes, we had good times then. but we don't seem to be having them any more. it's nothing but measly old algebra exams. that no fellow can pass. i wish--" but what bart wished he never told, for, at that instant there came from the street outside a series of sharp explosions, that sounded like a gatling gun in full operation. "what's that?" cried fenn. "it's an automobile!" replied frank, who was nearest the window. "it's running away, too, from the looks of it. they've opened the muffler and are trying to reverse i guess! something's wrong! there's going to be an accident!" the other boys crowded up back of frank to see what was going on. the street in front of fenn's house sloped sharply down to a cliff at the end of the thoroughfare. across the highway was a stout fence, designed to prevent any one from driving over the cliff, which was quite high. toward this fence a big touring car, which, as the boys could see, contained an elderly gentleman and a young lady, was rushing at furious speed. "stop! stop!" cried fenn in desperation, thinking the man in the car did not know or realize his danger. "the street ends at the fence! you'll go over the cliff!" as the auto whizzed past the house the girl in it gave one glance at fenn. the youth thought her the most beautiful person he had ever seen, though there was a look of terror in her eyes. "he can't stop!" shouted bart. "something's wrong with the machine!" indeed this seemed to be true, for the man at the steering wheel was frantically pulling on various levers and stamping, with his feet, on some pedals in front of him. the young woman in the car half arose in her seat. the man, holding the wheel with one hand, held her back with the other. she gave a startled cry and, a moment later the auto had crashed through the fence, as though it was made of paper, and the front wheels disappeared over the edge of the cliff. "come on!" cried bart. "we must go to their help!" "i'm afraid they're dead," spoke frank solemnly, as he quickly followed his chums from fenn's house. chapter ii a mysterious cave running at top speed the four boys hastened down the street toward where the automobile accident had occurred. several other persons followed them. "they've gone over the cliff!" cried fenn. "no, the rear wheels are caught on the edge!" declared ned. "you can just see the back part of the car!" "but the man and young lady must be pitched out! it hangs nearly straight up and down!" said frank. "i wonder if they could possibly be alive?" asked fenn, as he hurried along, a little in the rear of the others, for, because of his stoutness, he was not a good runner. "i'll never forget how she looked up to me, as if she wanted me to save her." by this time the chums had reached the broken fence that had proved so ineffectual a barrier to the cliff. they leaped over the shattered boards, accompanied by a number of men and boys. "gee! they're goners!" exclaimed a boy named sandy merton, peering over the edge of the cliff. "it's a hundred feet to the bottom!" "i wonder what caught the auto?" said bart. "why didn't it fall?" "a wire caught it," answered fenn. "look," and he showed his chums where several heavy strands of wire, which had been strung on the fence to further brace it, had become entangled in the wheels of the auto as they crashed through. the wire was twisted around some posts and, with the broken boards from the barrier, had served to hold the car from going over the cliff. there it hung, by the rear wheels only, a most precarious position, for, every moment, it was in danger of toppling over. "but where are the people?" asked frank, as he peered over the edge of the cliff. "i can't see them?" "they're all in pieces," declared a gloomy looking man. "they're broken to bits from the fall." "nonsense!" exclaimed bart. "here, let me have a look!" lying flat on his face he peered over the edge of the precipice. then he uttered a cry. "i can see them!" he shouted. "they've landed on the ledge, not ten feet down. they're under some bushes!" "get some ropes, quick!" cried fenn. "we'll haul 'em up before the auto falls on 'em!" "no danger of that," declared bart. "they're off to one side. i'm afraid they're badly hurt, though." "somebody go for a doctor!" urged fenn. "i will," volunteered jim nelson, who had the reputation of being the laziest boy in the town of darewell. perhaps he was afraid of being asked to help haul the auto back from the perilous position. "telephone for 'em!" called frank, knowing jim's usual slowness, and realizing that the lazy youth would welcome this method of summoning the medical men. "tell 'em to come to my house," supplemented fenn. "we will carry the man and girl there." "good idea," commented frank. "you've got more room than any of these houses near here," for, in the immediate vicinity of the cliff there were only small cottages, and some of them were unoccupied. "but how are we going to get 'em up?" asked fenn. by this time a large crowd had gathered. some had brought ropes, and there were all sorts of suggestions as to how the rescue should be effected. "i'll get them; or at least i'll go down and put a rope around them, so they can be hauled up," suddenly declared frank. "i know how to reach that ledge. there's not much danger. where's a rope?" several were soon produced, some neighboring clothes lines being confiscated. it seemed that all the crowd needed was some one to give orders. in a few minutes, with a rope tied around his waist frank was being lowered over the cliff. willing hands let him down until he was on the ledge. then, having fastened the rope about the form of the unconscious young woman, padding it with his coat, so the strands would not cut her, he gave the signal to haul up. there was a cheer as the body was laid gently down on the grass at the top of the cliff, and some one called: "she isn't dead! she's breathing!" it was harder work for frank to adjust the rope about the man's body, as he was very heavy, but the lad accomplished it, and the crowd above hauled the unfortunate automobilist up. then frank was raised from the ledge. "carry 'em to my house," cried fenn. "the doctors will soon be there if jim hasn't forgotten to telephone for 'em." on stretchers, improvised from pieces of the fence, the bodies, of which that of the girl alone seemed to contain life, were carried to fenn's house. the crowd followed but, at the door a constable named darby, at fenn's orders, refused admittance to all save the three chums, and those who had borne the stretchers. "the doctors will need room to work," declared fenn, when there were murmurs at what was his right, to exclude the mob from his home. "i'm glad mother's out," he said. "this would scare her into a fit." "the doctors are coming," said jim, who came into the house a moment later, after the man and young woman had been laid on beds where fenn directed. "i telephoned to all in darewell, but only three were home." "that ought to be enough," declared fenn. "i hope they can save their lives. there doesn't seem to be any evidences of injuries." the medical men, under the direction of dr. fanwood, the eldest of the practitioners, made hasty examinations of the two victims of the accident. "i think we'll have to operate on the man," declared dr. fanwood. "we'll need several things from my office. who can go for them?" and he looked at fenn, whom he had doctored ever since fenn was a baby, on the few occasions when that healthy youth needed medicine. "we'll go!" offered frank, bart and ned at once. "i guess we can use all three of you," decided dr. fanwood. "dr. kyte and dr. feldon will need things from their offices. now i tell you what to do, just take our horses and carriages, which are tied out in front, and drive after the things. that will be quicker." then, the three physicians having given the chums a list of what they needed, proceeded to get ready for the operation. the girl was in a semiconscious condition, but a hasty examination showed that the worst she was suffering from was shock. she could be left alone for a time. while the medical men were preparing to attend to the man, constable darby kept guard in front of the house, before which it seemed as if half the population of darewell was gathered. jim nelson was sitting in the front hall, ready to go on an errand if needed, but, on the whole, rather hoping that he would not be required to run. the hasty telephoning had been quite a strain on his lazy nature. fenn, at the suggestion of dr. fanwood, remained in the room where the young lady was, to be at hand in case she recovered consciousness. "my, things have happened suddenly," thought fenn, as he looked at the silent form on the bed. "we were just wishing for something like our old adventures again. this seems to promise a good beginning." the four boys, who, because of their intimate association, and from the fact that they lived in the town of that name, were known as "the darewell chums," had been through some lively times together, as has been related in the previous books of this series. in the first volume called "the heroes of the school," i related how the four took part in a peculiar mystery, and solved it to their satisfaction, though, at one time, when they went up in a balloon, and were captured by the enemy, it looked rather dubious for them. the boys were wide-awake lads, full of energy and resources, and they managed to free themselves from a difficult situation. their home town was on the still river, which flowed into lake erie, and darewell was a few miles from that great body of water, on which they often enjoyed themselves rowing or sailing. in the second volume of the series, "ned wilding's disappearance," there was set down the story of what happened to ned when he tried to do a little financial business on his own account. he went to new york, and there by some curious mis-chances, he had to hide, almost as if he had committed a crime. but, by the aid of his chums, and a poor lad whom they once befriended, ned was rescued. in the third volume, "frank roscoe's secret," i told of a queer case of persecution. frank and his chums went camping and frank's manner, which had been not only strange but sometimes unaccountable, became still more curious and bewildering, for one of his good nature. his chums did not know what to make of him, and there was considerable worry on their part. but it turned out that frank was the one who had to worry, because of the danger to his father, whom he had always supposed was dead, but who turned out to be alive, though in captivity. how the boys discovered frank's secret, and how they helped him to rescue his father was related in the book together with various other happenings during their encampment in the woods. and now the darewell chums seemed to be in for another series of adventures, if fenn was any judge. the young woman on the bed tossed and turned in the fever of a delirium. the lad became rather frightened, and was going to call one of the doctors, though he knew they must be very busy preparing for the operation. suddenly the young woman sat up straight in bed. her light jacket, which had not been removed, bore many dirt-stains, where she had fallen upon the ledge. she struggled to get it off. fenn started to help her, thinking one of her arms might be broken. suddenly she exclaimed: "the cave! oh, the cave! it was hidden but i can see it now! and the men! see, there are the men, digging, digging, digging! i must stop them! they will take all--" she fell back upon the pillows. "what cave? where is it? can i help you?" asked fenn eagerly. "the cave! they are in it!" exclaimed the young woman again. "the mysterious cave! if i could only find it! i must find it--my father--his wealth--search for the cave--i--he--" "yes, yes," spoke fenn, advancing to the side of the bed. "perhaps i can help you find it!" he hardly knew what he was saying, so great had been the strain of the accident, and so strangely did the words of the young lady affect him. she opened her eyes, which had been closed when she was talking. a look of consciousness came over her face. "was i speaking?" she asked in different tones than that she had used before. "did i say anything? what has happened? where am i? where is my father?" "the automobile went over a cliff," explained fenn. "you were hurt, and so was your father, but not badly, i hope. he is here. the doctors are with him." "i must--oh, let me go to him," and she arose from the bed. "what did i say just now?" she demanded suddenly. "i know i was unconscious, but i was saying something." "it was about a cave," replied fenn. "oh!" she exclaimed in such a voice that fenn was alarmed. "i was afraid so! why did i do it? forget it, please! forget that i ever mentioned it! i don't know--" she seemed about to say something more, but her face suddenly became pale, and she fell back on the pillows. "doctor!" cried fenn, very much frightened. "ah, i'm just in time, i see," remarked dr. kyte, coming into the room at that moment. "i'll attend to her now, fenn. she has only fainted." chapter iii saving the auto fenn's brain was in a whirl. the manner of the girl, her strange words, her sudden fright when he had sought to recall to her what she had said, and her reference to a mysterious cave, all served to give the lad much to think about. coming as it did, on top of the automobile accident, it added to the excitement of the day. he was glad, when he got down stairs, to find that his three chums had returned with the things for which the physicians had sent them. "well, were you playing nurse?" asked frank. "say," declared fenn earnestly, "i certainly was up against it. i had a delirious patient, who was talking about caves and strange men." "tell us," suggested bart, and fenn related what the girl had said. "that's nothing," declared ned. "she was talking in her sleep." "no, it was delirium." "well, that's the same thing," retorted ned. "it doesn't mean anything. she was all worked up over the accident. probably she looked ahead, saw the fence, and got scared half to death. then, when the auto went over the cliff, and she and her father were spilled out, it might have looked as if she was falling into a cave. that's all." "i don't believe it," declared fenn determinedly. "i think there is something back of her talk. she was only partly delirious. besides, she knew she had been talking about a cave, for she asked me to forget all about it. there's something in all this, and don't you forget it. some day i'll find out what it is." "you're a regular mystery solver, you are, stumpy," declared ned. "fenn! fenn!" exclaimed an excited woman, coming into the dining room where the boys had gathered to talk. "what has happened? what is the matter? are you hurt? was there an accident? why is constable darby in front of the house, keeping the crowd back?" "there was an accident, mother," said fenn, "and a man and a girl who were hurt have been brought here. i told them to fetch them in. i thought you wouldn't care." "no, of course not. poor things! i'm so sorry! are they badly hurt?" "i'm afraid the man is, but the girl seems to be getting better, except that she fainted awhile ago," replied fenn, and he briefly related what had happened. just then dr. fanwood came into the room, to ask fenn to heat some water, and he remarked: "it is not so bad as we feared. the young lady is suffering from nothing but shock and some bruises. the man, her father, has a bad wound on the head, but nothing serious. they will both be all right in a few days. it was a narrow escape." "who are they, doctor?" asked mrs. masterson. "i have not been able to question either of them," replied the physician, "but, from papers which we found in the man's pocket i take him to be robert hayward, of bayville, wisconsin. the young woman is evidently his daughter, ruth, though what they can be doing so far away from home, in an automobile, i do not know." "is he dangerously hurt?" asked mrs. masterson. "well, it would be dangerous to move him for a few days, as complications might set in. if he could stay here--" "of course he can," interrupted fenn's mother. "he and his daughter, too. we have plenty of room." "i am glad to hear you say so," replied the doctor. "they will get well more quickly if they are kept quiet. now i must go back to my patient." he took the hot water fenn gave him and left the room. the four chums and mrs. masterson discussed the recent happenings, and the crowd outside, learning from the constable that there was no one dead, or likely to die, went off to look at the auto which still hung over the cliff. mrs. masterson rather ridiculed fenn's idea that the girl's talk had a bearing on some mysterious happenings, and she was of the same opinion as ned, that it was merely the raving of delirium. but fenn stoutly clung to his own idea. "you'll see," he declared. the doctors left presently, and alice keene, bart's sister, who was something of a trained nurse, was installed to look after mr. hayward. miss hayward declared she was not ill enough to be in bed, and wanted to look after her father, but mrs. masterson insisted that the young woman must consider herself a patient for several days, and declared that she would take care of her. "come on, boys," suggested fenn, when the excitement had somewhat calmed down. "let's see if we can't save the auto." "i'm afraid if we disturb it the least bit it will go over the cliff," said ned. "it's hanging on by its teeth, so to speak." "we'll try, anyhow," decided bart. "i'd like to help haul it back. maybe we'd get a ride in it, after mr. hayward gets well." "that's all you care about it," taunted frank with a laugh. "no, but if we do save it, i guess you wouldn't refuse a ride in it," retorted bart. "it isn't often you get the chance." "that's so," agreed fenn. "but come on. if we wait much longer the crowd will get around it and, maybe, loosen the wire that holds it." the four chums hurried to the scene of the accident. they found that the weight of the big car had stretched the wires so that the machine hung farther than ever over the edge of the cliff. "it's going to be a hard job to save that machine," declared ned. "how are we going to do it?" "let me think a minute," spoke bart, who was usually fertile in devising ways and means of doing things. "what ye goin' to do?" demanded constable darby who, having found his post as guard at the house an empty honor, had assumed charge of the machine. "what you boys up to now? you'd better move away from here." "we're going to rescue mr. hayward's auto for him," declared fenn with more assurance than he felt. "he wants it hauled back," he added, which was true enough. "wa'al, ef he wants it, that's a different thing," replied the constable, who evidently recognized that fenn had some rights in the matter, since the injured persons had been carried to the lad's house. "i guess we've got ropes enough," spoke bart. "the next thing is to get some pulleys and find something strong enough to stand the strain. i guess that big oak tree will do. who knows where we can get some pulleys?" "there are some at our house," said fenn. "the painters left them there when they finished the job last week. i can get them." "good!" cried bart. "you get 'em, and we'll get the ropes in shape." when fenn returned with the pulleys he found that his chums had taken several turns of one of the ropes about a tree, that was to stand the strain of hauling the auto back on firm ground. the pulleys were arranged so as to give more power to the hauling force, and then, the cables having been cautiously fastened to the back of the auto, bart gave the word, and half a score of boys assisted the chums in heaving on the rope. there was a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether, but the auto never budged. "once more!" cried bart. "hold on!" a voice urged, and the boys, and others in the crowd saw a telephone lineman approaching. "that wire holds the wheels!" he explained, pointing to where the wire from the fence was entangled in the spokes. "you fellows hold on the rope and i'll cut it for you!" drawing out a big pair of cutters he crawled under the rear of the auto, and, lying on his back, proceeded to sever the wire strands. "keep the rope taut!" urged bart. "when the wire is cut there'll be a heavy strain." the boys, and several men who had taken hold of the hempen cable, braced themselves. there was a snap, as the cutters went through the wire. "look out!" cried the lineman. there was a creaking of the ropes. a sudden strain came on them, so powerful, that those holding the strands felt the hemp slipping through their fingers. "she's going over the cliff!" cried bart. "hold her, boys! hold her!" chapter iv planning a cruise farther and farther over the cliff slid the heavy auto. the boys and men, holding the rope, were pulled slowly along, as is a losing team in a tug-of-war. "snub your rope, boys!" a voice suddenly called. "snub her! that's the only way to hold her back! take a half hitch around that stump, and you'll have her! she's got a little too much way on for you! snub her! snub her, i say!" bart gave one glance at the man who had called these directions. he saw a short, squatty figure, wearing a dark blue cap, with some gold braid on it. one glance was enough to show that the man knew what he was talking about. bart let go his grip of the rope. the auto slipped a little faster then, for there were not so many hands holding it. but bart knew what he was doing. he grabbed the free end of the rope and, following the directions of the newcomer, who aided him, he took a couple of turns about a big stump. this "snubbed" or slowed up the progress of the ponderous car, and a moment later it came to a stop. "now you've got her!" exclaimed the squatty man. "she'll hold until you can get a couple of teams to haul her back. you can't do it alone. too much steam needed!" "that's where you're right, captain wiggs!" remarked constable darby. "i was jest a goin' t' tell th' boys that myself, but it's better t' have th' advice come from a regular sea-farin' person i s'pose." "i'm no sea-faring person," replied the captain. "the great lakes are good enough for me, but those who cruise on them know a thing or two, even if they're not of the salt water." "your advice came just in time, captain," said ned, for the boys knew the commander of the steamer _modoc_, which was one of the great lakes fleet of freight carriers, and occasionally tied up at darewell. "i should say it did," added frank. "my arms are nearly pulled off." "i'll go up the street and see if i can get a couple of men to bring their teams here and haul the auto up," volunteered fenn. "i guess mr. hayward will pay them." the others thought this suggestion a good one, and, in a short time fenn returned with two men, who each drove two powerful horses. the animals were hitched to the rope and, after a little pulling and hauling, under the direction of captain wiggs, who naturally took charge, the auto was hauled back to the street, not much damaged from the plunge over the cliff. the crowd stood around for some time longer, looking at the touring car until fenn had the men haul it to a barn near his house. the boys would have liked to have run it themselves, but, as they knew very little about cars, and as they were not sure of the condition of the machinery of this one, they decided the slower method of propulsion would be best. in the morning there was a great improvement in the condition of mr. hayward and his daughter, ruth. in fact ruth could be up, dr. fanwood said, though she must not exert herself. that afternoon after school the three chums wanted fenn to go for a walk, but he made some excuse and hurried home. he found miss ruth, who looked prettier than ever he thought, sitting in the parlor in an easy chair. "i don't believe i thanked you and your friends for what you did for my father and myself," she said, with a smile, as she held out her hand to fenn. "oh, it isn't necessary--i mean we didn't do anything--" and poor fenn became much confused. "i--er--that is we--saw the auto go over and we hurried out." "oh, it was awful!" exclaimed ruth, "i thought i was going to be killed! it was terrible!" "it was a lucky escape," murmured fenn, sympathetically, wondering if the girl would make any reference to the cave she had raved about. but she did not, and, after asking fenn to bring his three chums, that she might thank them personally, she went back to her room. "i wish i dared ask her about that mysterious cave," thought fenn. "there's something back of it all, i'm sure. she acts as if she was afraid i'd find it out." a few days later mr. hayward was able to be up, and after that his recovery was rapid. he explained to fenn, and the boy's parents, that he was in the timber business, and had some mining interests. his daughter's health was not of the best, he added, and, in the hope of improving it, he had taken her on a long auto trip. they intended to go to maine, and camp in the woods, and were on their way there when the accident happened. "i'm sure i can't thank you for all you have done for me," said mr. hayward, looking at fenn and his parents. "those other boys, too; my daughter tells me there were three of your chums who helped." "oh, we didn't do so much," murmured fenn. "anybody would have done the same." "yes, but you did it," replied mr. hayward. "i appreciate it, i can tell you. i wish i could show you how much. perhaps i can, some day. i'll tell you what i wish you'd do; come out and see me. it's not so very far to bayville, and we can show you some great sights there, i tell you. you could make the trip along the great lakes, and they're well worth seeing. my daughter and i would make you comfortable, i'm sure." "it's very kind of you to give the boys that invitation," said mr. masterson. "i'm afraid it's too long a trip for them." "oh, nonsense!" exclaimed mr. hayward. "they can go by boat all the way. it's a fine trip." "i'm sure you would enjoy it," said ruth, smiling at fenn. "then we'll go!" exclaimed stumpy, with more energy than the occasion seemed to call for. "i wish you would," added mr. hayward, and then he and mr. masterson began a discussion of business matters. a little later that evening fenn, going in the parlor for a book, saw ruth sitting there in the darkness. "what's the matter?" he asked with ready sympathy. "are you ill? shall i call my mother?" "no--no, i'm all right--i'll be all right in a little while. please don't call any one," and the girl seemed much alarmed. "i--i was just thinking of--" "is there anything worrying you?" asked fenn boldly, as the memory of what she had said in her delirium came back to him. "can i do anything to help you? is it about a cave?" "hush!" exclaimed ruth, in such tones that fenn was startled. "don't speak of that. oh, i don't know why i mentioned it. i was not myself! forget it, please. it might cause a dreadful--oh, i can't talk about it!" she was whispering tensely, and she came close to fenn. in the next room mr. hayward could be heard telling mr. masterson something about his large business interests. "don't let my father hear you," pleaded ruth. "but perhaps i can help you," insisted fenn. "no--no one can--at least not now," she said. "don't ask me. i must go now. good-night," and she hurried from the room, leaving a much-puzzled lad behind. he forgot all about the book he wanted, so wrought up was he over what ruth had said. he decided it would not be proper to question her any further, though he wanted very much to aid her if he could. the next morning mr. hayward announced that he felt well enough to proceed. the auto had been repaired, and the gentleman and his daughter, bidding their hosts farewell, started off. they had decided to return home, as ruth was so upset over the accident that a camping trip was out of the question. "now don't forget, i expect you boys out to visit me," called mr. hayward, as the four chums waved their hands to father and daughter when the auto puffed off. "come early and stay late!" "poor girl," murmured mrs. masterson, as she went back into the house. "she seems worried over something, but i don't see what it can be, for her father is very wealthy, according to his talk, and she has everything she wants. maybe she misses her mother. she told me she had been dead only a few years." but fenn knew it was something about the mysterious cave that was worrying ruth, and he wished, more than ever, that he could do something to aid her. it was a week after this when, school having closed for the summer term, the four chums were gathered at fenn's house. frank, ned and bart had arrived at the same time, to find stumpy absorbed in the pages of a big geography. "going to take a post-graduate course?" asked bart. "no, he's looking for bayville, to see if he can't catch a glimpse of ruth," spoke ned. "i was planning a vacation trip," replied fenn, with dignity. "a vacation trip? where?" "on the great lakes," answered fenn. "i think it would be just the thing. i've been looking it up. we could go down the still river to lake erie, and then to lake huron. from there we could visit the straits of mackinaw, and then, after a trip on lake michigan, go through the sault st. mary to lake superior. then--" "yes, and then we could sail to bayville and you could visit ruth while we sat on the bank and caught fish!" interrupted frank. "oh, stumpy, it's easy to guess what you are thinking about!" chapter v captain wiggs's proposal fenn had to stand considerable "jollying" on the part of his chums, but, though he blushed and was a little annoyed, he took it in good part. "you can talk about ruth all you like," he said, "but, just the same, if you have any plans to beat a cruise on the great lakes, why--trot 'em out, that's all. we've got to go somewhere this vacation, and i don't see any better place, though i've looked through the whole geography." "and the only place you could get to was bayville," interrupted ned. "it's all right, stumpy. i agree with you, that it would be a fine trip." "how could we make it?" asked frank. "walk, of course," replied bart, with a grin. "it's water all the way." "funny!" answered frank, poking his sarcastic chum in the ribs. "i mean where could we get a boat?" "hire one, i s'pose," put in fenn, who had been busy marking an imaginary cruise in lead pencil on the map of the great lakes. "that would be pretty expensive," said bart. "we're not millionaires, though we each have a little money salted away in the bank." the boys discussed the proposed cruise for some time longer, but there seemed no way of going on it. to hire a steamer or motorboat for such a long trip was practically out of the question for them, and, with much regret they all admitted it could not be considered. "come over to-morrow night," invited fenn, when his chums left that evening. "maybe we can think of something by then." the next afternoon fenn, who had gone to the store for his mother, stopped, on his way back, at the public dock of the still river, where several vessels were loading with freight for lake erie ports. there was much hurrying about and seeming confusion; wagons and trucks backing up and going ahead, and scores, of men wheeling boxes and barrels on board lighters and steamers. "port! port your helm!" suddenly called a voice, almost in fenn's ear, and he jumped to one side, to allow a short, stout man, with his arms full of bundles, to pass him. "that's it!" the man went on. "nearly run you down, didn't i? thought you were a water-logged craft in my course. why, hello! if it isn't fenn masterson!" "captain wiggs!" exclaimed fenn, recognizing the commander of the _modoc_. "looking for a berth?" went on the captain, as he placed his bundles down on the head of a barrel. "i can sign you as cleaner of the after boiler tubes, if you like," and he looked so grave that fenn did not know whether he was joking or not. it was a habit the captain had, of making the most absurd remarks in a serious way, so that even his friends, at times, did not quite know how to take him. "yes," he went on, "i need a small boy to crawl through the after boiler tubes twice a day to keep 'em clean. would you like the job?" "i--i don't believe so," replied fenn, with a smile, for now he knew captain wiggs was joking. "all right then," said the commander, with an assumed sigh. "i'll have to do it myself, and i'm getting pretty old and fat for such work. the tubes are smaller than they used to be. but i dare say i can manage it. where you going?" he asked fenn suddenly, with a change of manner. "no place in particular. home, pretty soon. why?" "i was going to ask you to come aboard and have a glass of lemonade," invited the captain. "it's a hot day and lemonade is the best drink i know of." "oh, i'll come," decided fenn, for captain wiggs's lemonade had quite a reputation. besides there were always queer little chocolate cakes in the captain's cabin lockers, for he was very fond of sweet things, as fenn knew from experience. "haven't saved any more sinking automobiles, lately, have you?" asked the commander, when fenn was seated in the cabin, sipping a glass of the delicious beverage. "no. mr. hayward has gone back to bayville." "bayville? is that where he lives?" asked captain wiggs. "that's it," replied fenn. "why?" "that's odd," mused the captain. "i'm going right near there, this cruise. you see i've got a mixed cargo this trip," he explained. "i've got to deliver some things at several lake ports, but the bulk of the stuff goes to duluth. now if you would only ship with me, as cleaner of the after boiler tubes, why you could go along." "could i?" asked fenn eagerly. "sure." "and--and could you take any other boiler tube cleaners, or--or any other help?" "well, i need a couple of lads to dust the coal," said the captain, so seriously that fenn thought he meant it. "you see if coal is dusty it doesn't burn well," he added. "we have to dust off every lump before we can put it in the boiler. now a couple of handy lads, who were quick and smart could--" "maybe you could use three," suggested fenn, with a smile. "sure i could," spoke the captain. "that's it!" he added quickly. "you and your three chums! why not? you four could come along, and, if necessary, you could all dust coal. we use a lot of it. come on now, here's a proposal for you," and the captain smiled good naturedly. "you four boys come along and make the trip to duluth with me." "would it--would it cost much?" asked fenn, seeing a chance of carrying out the cruise he had planned. "not a cent. i tell you i'll use you boys in more ways than one. dusting the coal is only a small matter. there is the smoke stack to be scrubbed, the dishes to be hand painted and the windows to be taken out and put in again." "do you mean it?" asked fenn. "i mean, do you really want us on this trip, captain wiggs?" "of course i do. i sail in three days, to be gone a month or more. if you boys want to have a good vacation come along. get the permission of your folks and let me know to-night." "i will!" exclaimed fenn, his brain whirling with the suddenness of it all. "i'll tell the other boys right away," and, not even pausing to thank the captain for the lemonade, he hurried up the companion ladder, out on the deck of the _modoc_ and, jumping to the dock, ran up the street as fast as he could go. chapter vi in peril "here's the stuff from the store, mom!" exclaimed fenn, as he rushed into the house. "what's the matter?" asked his mother anxiously. "has there been an accident, fenn?" "got to find the boys! captain wiggs! _modoc!_ going on a cruise! tell you later!" was what fenn exclaimed in jerky sentences as he hurried down the side steps and out of the yard. "oh, those boys! they get so excited you can't do anything with them!" exclaimed mrs. masterson. "i wonder what they're up to now?" if she could have seen her son and his chums, whom he met on the street, soon after his hurried exit, she would have been more puzzled than ever. "great news! great!" yelled fenn, as he caught sight of frank, ned and bart approaching him. "we're going with captain wiggs to make a tour of the great lakes! whoop! hold me down, somebody!" he grabbed ned and bart, each by an arm, and began whirling them around in a good imitation of an indian war dance. "here! let up!" cried frank. "what's it all about? who's killed?" "nobody, you ninny!" shouted fenn. "we're going on the _modoc_!" "who says so?" "when?" "how many of us?" "where?" "are we all going?" all fenn could do was to nod his head vigorously. he was all out of breath. as soon as he could get enough wind to talk, he rapidly explained what captain wiggs had said. "does he mean we're to work our passage?" asked frank. "i don't know as i care to shovel coal, if that's what he means." "i guess he was only joking about that part of it," answered fenn. "i'm going, if i have to scrub the decks. it will be sport." "that's right," chimed in bart. "i don't mind working my way for the sake of the trip. when can we go?" "let's go down to the wharf and have a talk with him," suggested ned, and they all agreed this was a wise idea. a little later they were in the large cabin of the _modoc_, which, for a freight boat, was well fitted up. captain wiggs repeated the invitation he had given to fenn. the boys would be welcome to make the trip with him, he said, as long as their parents consented. they would need an outfit of clothing, with rough garments for stormy weather, which might be encountered. "and we'll do anything we can to help you run the boat," added bart, who felt that some return ought to be given for the captain's generosity. "well," replied the commander, in drawling tones, "i don't expect too much. but if you could manage to keep the door mats clean it would be a great help." "door mats--on a ship?" questioned ned. "yes; of course," replied the captain, with an assumption of dignity. "you see the salt spray gets all over the deck, and if it's tramped into the cabins it makes the floors dirty. my steward is very particular about clean floors, and i thought that if you could help keep the mats clean, why it would make his work easier, and he wouldn't grumble so much. however, if it's too much trouble, why of course--" "oh, we'll do it," hastily agreed fenn, fearing that the trip might be called off. he did not quite know how to take the captain's remarks, for the commander had not the least suspicion of a smile on his face. after all, thought fenn, it might be necessary to clean the door mats, and he resolved to do his share of it. "well, now that that's settled," went on the commander, as if a load had been taken from his mind, "we'll go into further details." he then explained to the boys what they would need in the way of clothing and baggage, and he briefly described the trip. the duration of it was a little uncertain as he could not tell how long he would have to wait at duluth, after unloading, before he could get a cargo to bring back. "i guess i'll get you home safe in time to begin the fall term of school," he said, "and that ought to answer." "it will," declared ned. "it's mighty fine of you to ask us." "oh, i guess you'll be worth your salt," commented captain wiggs. "besides attending to the door mats, i may expect you to look after the scuttle-butt, now and again." fenn wanted to ask what the scuttle-butt was, but as the steward came in just then, to get some orders, the boys decided it was time to leave. they promised to be on hand the day set for sailing, and then, with their minds full of the happy prospect ahead of them, they went ashore. the parents of the lads offered no objection to their making the cruise in company with captain wiggs, who was well known in darewell. in due time valises and trunks were packed and the four chums, the envy of their less-fortunate school companions, strolled down to the wharf and boarded the _modoc_. the steamer was a large one, and had good accommodations for passengers, though she seldom carried any. this time, besides the boys, there was only one man, who was making the trip for his health. he was burton ackerman, who lived in a small town not far from darewell. they found that their staterooms, which were of good size, adjoined one another. they put away their belongings, and then went up on deck. the _modoc_ had cast off, and was slowly gathering speed as it dropped down the river toward lake erie. "don't forget the scenery, boys!" called the captain, as he passed. "we won't," answered ned, with a laugh. the boys had often made the trip to lake erie, and there was little of novelty for them in this. but, when the steamer had gotten well out on the big body of water, they crowded to the rails, for they had never been out so far as this before. "it's almost as good as an ocean voyage," exclaimed bart. "what are you thinking of, stumpy?" asked frank, noticing that his short chum was rather quiet. "i know," declared ned. "he's wondering if he'll see ruth." "oh, you--" began the badgered one, when the attention of the boys was taken from tormenting their chum by several sharp blasts of the _modoc's_ whistle. there was an answering screech and frank suddenly exclaimed: "look there, boys!" they all looked. on the port side, bearing right down on them, and coming at full speed, was an immense grain barge. it appeared to be unmanageable, for the whistle was frantically blowing, and a man in the pilot house was waving his hand. "toot! toot! toot! toot!" screamed the whistle of the _modoc_. "she's going to ram us!" cried fenn. "we can't get out of the way in time!" there was a confused jangling of bells from the _modoc's_ engine room, followed by more whistles, and then the steamer began to swing around. but still the grain barge came straight on. a collision seemed inevitable. chapter vii an elevator blaze from somewhere captain wiggs reached the deck on the jump. he tore past the boys on the run, and fairly burst into the door of the pilot house, where the first mate was in charge. "we'd better get ready to jump!" cried frank. "it looks as if we were going to be cut in two." "grab life preservers!" shouted ned. "here are some back here!" he turned to lead the way to where, under an awning, some of the cork jackets were hung in racks. before he could reach them a peculiar shiver seemed to run over the _modoc_. "she's hit us!" yelled bart. "everybody jump!" the boys made a rush for the rail, intending to trust to their swimming abilities rather than to chance remaining on the steamer after the grain barge had hit her. but their plans were suddenly frustrated for, as they reached the rail, something that towered away above their heads loomed up, and the grain vessel came sliding along side of the _modoc_, just as if the two craft were about to tie up together for loading purposes. the grain barge only bumped gently against the side of the steamer. the shrill whistles ceased. the jangling bells were silent. by the narrowest of margins a bad collision had been avoided. out of the pilot house came captain wiggs, running along the rail until he came opposite the pilot house of the grain barge. then, standing on a signal flag locker the commander addressing the man in charge of the vessel which had given them all such a scare, exclaimed: "say, what in the name of the sacred cow are you trying to do, anyhow? don't you know how to steer, you inconsiderate slab-sided specimen of an isosceles triangle!" "sure i know how to steer," replied the man, who was as cool as the captain was excited. "i was steering boats when you was a baby. but i'd like to know how in the name of billy hochswatter's mud-turtle any one can manage a boat when the steam steering gear breaks just as another vessel gets in front of me." "oh, then that's different," replied captain wiggs, with an understanding of the difficulties of the situation. "yes, i guess it is," retorted the other. "why didn't you use the hand gear?" asked the commander of the _modoc_. "that got jammed just as they were swinging my boat around, and all i could do was to signal for a clear course." "well, i gave it to you, but i almost had to rip my engines off the bed plates to do it," retorted captain wiggs. "i reversed at full speed, and swung that wheel around until it looked like a spinning top. only for that we'd be on the bottom of the lake by now." "that's right," agreed the other pilot. "you had your nerve with you. well, as long as there's no damage done i s'pose you can go ahead. i'll have to lay-to for repairs." "um," was all captain wiggs replied, for he had not quite gotten over his scare, used as he was to narrow escapes from danger. slowly the _modoc_ was backed away from the side of the grain barge, and, when at the proper distance, she was sent ahead again, the other craft coming to anchor. "i hope i don't meet him again this voyage," murmured captain wiggs, as he walked up to where the four chums stood. "he's the most unlucky fellow i know. something is always happening to his boats." "who is he?" asked ned. "captain streitwetter. he's a german from germanville. did you hear him mention billy hochswatter's mud-turtle?" "yes," said bart. "what did he mean?" "that is a story," replied captain wiggs gravely, "which can only be told after the dinner dishes are washed. you'd better look after them," and with that he walked away. "there he goes again!" exclaimed frank. "you never know what he is going to say. i believe he's stringing us." "i almost know it," retorted fenn. "it's only a way he has, but the trouble is we don't know whether or not he wants us to do the things he says. i wonder if we had better do anything about the dishes?" "of course not," said frank. "the cook sees to that." "but maybe the cook is sick," insisted fenn. "captain wiggs might want us to help." "if i thought so i'd offer at once," put in ned. "i used to do it at home, once in a while, to help out." "i'll go ask him," volunteered fenn, and he started to find captain wiggs, when he was halted by seeing the commander step from behind a pile of boxes. the captain was laughing heartily. "that's the time i had you guessing; didn't i?" he demanded. "wash the dishes. ha! ha! ho! ho! that's pretty good!" the boys, looking a bit sheepish, soon joined in the merriment at their expense, and the little pleasantry served to banish the nervous feeling that remained after the narrow escape from the collision. "billy hochswatter's mud-turtle!" repeated the captain. "that's what captain streitwetter always says when he's excited. i don't believe there ever was such a person as billy hochswatter." "i either," added fenn. "i must go down to the engine room to see if we suffered any damage," the commander of the _modoc_ went on. "you boys amuse yourselves as well as you can until dinner time. you don't have to peel the potatoes," he added with a wink. "we'll have to get even with him, somehow," suggested ned, when the captain was out of hearing. "how?" asked bart. "i haven't thought it out yet, but we must play some kind of a trick on him. he'll think the darewell chums are slow if we believe all he tells us, and don't come back at him. try and think up something." "good idea," commented fenn. "we'll have the laugh on him, next time." the day passed quickly, for there were many novel sights for the boys to see. captain wiggs was kept so busy, for there were some repairs needed to one of the engines, because of the sudden reversing, that the boys did not see him again that day. he did not appear at dinner or supper, and the steward said the commander was taking his meals in the engine room. the _modoc_ was going along at less than her usual speed, but was making fairly good time. "well, i s'pose we might as well turn in, boys," suggested fenn, about nine o'clock. "i believe that is the proper term aboard a ship." "yes, messmates," spoke ned, assuming a theatrical attitude, "we will now seek our downy hammocks, and court 'tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep,' to arise in the gladsome morning, and 'you must wake and call me early; call me early, mother dear, for i'm to be queen of the may, mother; i'm to be queen of the may!'" "we'll call you 'loony,' instead of 'early,' if you get off any more of that nonsense," murmured frank. "that's what," agreed fenn. "you're not studying english lit. and french history now, ned." "very well, most noble gentlemen," went on ned. "i shall obey you, right gladly, i ween!" and he made a dive for his stateroom before bart, who made a sudden grab could lay hands on him. the others soon turned in, and, in spite of their new and strange surroundings and beds, were soon sound asleep. it must have been about midnight that fenn was awakened by hearing a great tramping on deck. it was followed by confused shouts, and then came the jangling of the engine room bells. the _modoc_ seemed to increase her speed. "i wonder if there's another collision coming?" he said as he sat up. he heard bart moving in the next room, and presently frank's voice was heard calling: "say, fellows, something's wrong." the noise on deck increased, and it sounded as though several men were running to and fro, dragging ropes about. "i'm going up!" decided fenn, jumping out of his berth and hastily pulling on his clothes. from the open doors of his chums' rooms he could see that they, too, were attiring themselves with little regard for how they looked. up on deck they hurried. as they emerged from the companionway their eyes were met with a bright glare. "a fire!" exclaimed ned. "the boat's afire!" "don't say that! don't say that, young man, i beg of you!" besought a man, attired in his trousers and night shirt, as he approached ned, who recognized him as mr. ackerman, the sick passenger. "what is it?" inquired fenn, who was right behind ned. "he said the ship was on fire," repeated mr. ackerman. "i can't stand it. i have heart disease. excitement is bad for me. do, please, one of you, go and find out how fast it is burning, and come back and tell me." he sat down at the head of the companionway, as coolly as though he had asked to be informed which way the wind was blowing. evidently he knew how to take care of himself, so as not to aggravate his malady. "the ship isn't on fire!" exclaimed bart, crowding past ned and fenn. "but something evidently is burning," insisted mr. ackerman. "i can smell smoke, and see the reflection of the blaze." this was not strange, considering that the _modoc_ was in the midst of a cloud of vapor, and that bright tongues of fire could be seen close to her bow. "it's a big grain elevator on shore that's burning!" exclaimed frank. "see! there it is!" as he spoke the smoke which enveloped the steamer was blown aside. the boys could then note that, during the night the vessel had approached close to shore. they were near a good-sized city, and, among the wharfs was a big building, built to hold grain in readiness to load on the lake steamers. from the top of this flames were shooting high into the air, and the _modoc_ was approaching it at full speed. chapter viii fenn hears something "what's the matter? can't captain wiggs stop the ship?" cried fenn, for it certainly looked as if the _modoc_ was going to run, full tilt, into the flames, which were right at the water's edge, as the elevator was on the end of the wharf. "clang!" the half speed bell sounded from the engine room. the steamer began to slacken speed. "clang! clang!" two gongs. stop the engines. the _modoc_ was going ahead under her own momentum only. then another signal. under the stern of the steamer the water boiled and bubbled as the great screw was reversed, to check the vessel's way. the jingling bell, following the signal to reverse, indicated to the engineer to back his machinery at full speed, and the big craft fairly quivered, so great was the strain of stopping her up short. but they were master-hands aboard the _modoc_ and she swung broadside to a wharf as gently as a boy brings his toy boat to a stop. from the deck men leaped to the string piece, with great ropes in their hands, which they made fast to butts and piling. the steamer was tied up, so close to the burning elevator that the boys could feel the heat of it. "what are you going to do, captain?" asked mr. ackerman, who seemed to have recovered from his nervousness, when he found the _modoc_ was in no danger. "i'm going to help douse that fire!" cried the commander. "lively with that hose, men! lively now! snatch her quick and i'll give you all the water you can handle!" several brawny deck-hands began pulling a line of hose over the side. other men were lowering a big boat, into which the men with the hose jumped. the hose was unreeled after them as they pulled out on the lake, in front of the burning elevator. "i'm afraid it's a goner," remarked captain wiggs, as a gust of wind sent the leaping flames licking along the surface of the water. "how did it happen?" "whose place is it?" "what are you going to do?" those were some of the questions which the boys asked captain wiggs. he answered them all, comprehensively. "it's an elevator in which the owners of the _modoc_ are interested," he said. "i was to call there to-morrow for a load of grain. i was heading for the wharf, intending to tie up until morning, when i saw flames shooting out of the top of the shaft. i've got a powerful pump aboard, and i knew they didn't have any fire boat in town, so i speeded the _modoc_ as close as i could. i don't believe i can do much, but i'm going to try. i'm afraid the fire has too much start." "can we go ashore and watch it?" asked ned. "i guess so. don't go too near, and be careful you don't fall off the pier. it's deep water all around." captain wiggs hurried down to the engine room, for the men with the hose in the boat were now as close as they dared to go to the fire, and could use water. "come on, fellows!" cried ned. "we don't often get a chance to see a big fire like this." they leaped to the wharf, since no gang plank had been run out, and were soon hurrying along the pier to shore. the elevator was several slips or piers distant, and the boys would have to go ashore to reach it. as they ran on they could hear the big pump of the _modoc_ beginning to force water from the lake through the hose, the nozzle of which the men in the row boat directed at the fire. in the street along the water front the four chums found a great crowd. every one was hurrying to the blaze. men were shouting, boys were yelling, and even women and girls had hurriedly dressed to come out to the conflagration. "the whole block back of the elevator'll go, if they don't stop it pretty soon!" yelled a man as he passed on the run. "here comes the water-tower!" shouted several. "look out there!" "clear the way!" an insistent clanging of a fire gong to the accompaniment of barking dogs told that some piece of apparatus was dashing along the street. the boys felt some one from behind thrust them to one side. "look out!" a policeman shouted in their ears. "do you want to be killed?" they shrank back, burying themselves in the crowd on either side of the way, just as the water tower, with the plunging horses foam-flecked and heaving, dashed by. "they've sent for more engines from frenchtown!" cried some one in the throng. "they'll need all they can get." "the warehouse'll go next!" "they'd better use dynamite!" "this shows we ought to have a fire boat!" "this department don't know how to handle a blaze like that!" remarks of this nature kept floating to the ears of the boys as they hurried along, arm in arm, so they would not become separated in the press that was on every side of them. above the din sounded a shrill whistle, and a fire-engine, spouting sparks, with the stoker at the back, clinging to the rail with one hand, and with the other throwing soft coal on the glowing mass under the boiler, crammed his head out to see how much farther the panting horses had to run. the blazing elevator was hidden from sight of the boys by several buildings that intervened, but by looking up they could see the lurid sky, and the smoke-laden air, in which glowed dull red sparks, like stars. suddenly the crowd, of which the four chums formed a part, swung around a corner. then a terrible, but vivid scene was presented. on the end of a big wharf, with the black lake as a background, was the flaming structure. it stood out boldly, like a picture framed in ebony, illuminating itself by leaping, licking tongues of yellow fire, that seemed to tumble and toss--to twist and coil about like devouring serpents. up shot the flames--far above the slanting, narrow roof of the elevator. the windows shone out as though millions of candles had been placed in them. through some casements, darting spears of fire glanced, as if to transfix anything in their path, not satisfied with what was within. the piles of grain made a dense smoke, and the peculiar structure of the building, like some immense chimney, gave a draught that seemed to doom the elevator to complete destruction. at the foot of the building could be seen a dark mass of firemen, moving here and there. in spots it was illuminated by little spurts of flame, where the engines were puffing like mad to send the quenching water on the fiercely burning timbers. "they'll never stop that fire!" shouted a man close to the chums. "the roof'll cave in soon!" "why don't they use the stand pipes in the elevator?" asked another man. "no engine they've got can throw water to the roof." "the stand pipes are melted by now," was the answer. "they tried 'em, but it got too hot. there she goes!" the flames seemed to make one final leap, as if to reach a higher point in the air than they had yet attained. there was a sound as though a great gun had exploded and the roof, blown off by the heated air inside, and by the gases generated from the burning grain, was scattered into a thousand pieces. then, as if satisfied that it had accomplished what it set out to do, the fire died down a little. the top stories of the elevator toppled in, and the mass seemed to crumple up. owing to the packed heaps of grain it was burning slowly, now that most of the wood work was consumed. "that's another blow to hayward!" spoke a voice so close to fenn's ear that the boy started in spite of himself. "hush!" cautioned a man, who was beside the one who had first spoken, "some one might hear you." "no one knows what i'm talking about," was the answer. "i guess hayward will be willing to talk business now. he can't stand many such losses as this, even if he does own most of bayville. i understand he didn't carry much insurance on this grain, as it was stored for quick movement. now, when i see him--" the man stopped suddenly, for fenn was looking right at him. somehow the youth knew instinctively that he was talking about the mr. hayward who had been injured in the auto accident. what could it mean? why was the speaker glad that the westerner had suffered a loss in the elevator fire? fenn wanted to hear more. but the man who had first spoken, said nothing further. he grasped his companion by the arm, and nodded toward fenn. the other boys were still watching the fire, and were some distance away from stumpy. "were you--" began the first speaker, looking at fenn, when his companion suddenly drew him back among the crowd. "stop! stop!" fenn heard him whisper. "i must get hold of him and--" there was some mystery here. fenn vaguely felt it, but he could not tell what it was. there was a movement in the throng, and fenn's chums were pressed back to where he stood. "here comes some more engines!" was the cry. additional steamers, summoned from an adjoining city, rattled up. the fire, which had died down, seemed to break out afresh, as the flames seized on new material. "i tell you i'm going to find out about him!" this was the voice of the man who had spoken of mr. hayward. fenn glanced around. the fellow, who had a sinister face, was making his way toward him. "maybe they're thieves or pickpockets," thought fenn. "i guess we'd better get out of here while we have the chance." he leaned forward and grasped bart by the arm. "come on!" he hoarsely whispered. "what for?" inquired bart. "the fire isn't half over." "come on," repeated fenn earnestly. "i think captain wiggs may want us." he was so insistent, and nodded in such a peculiar way that bart realized something unusual was in the wind. pulling ned and frank close to him, fenn whispered: "i think some pickpockets are trying to rob us. i've brought my money with me. let's get out of here." the boys made a quick turn in the crowd, and worked their way to where the press was not so thick. fenn led the way, looking back to see if the men were following. they were. the man with the sinister face, and his companion, were trailing close after the boys. "come on!" cried fenn, suddenly breaking into a run. but the men were not to be so easily left behind. they, too, quickened their pace, and pursued the four chums, though what their motive was the boys could only guess. chapter ix off again the boys soon found themselves mixed up in another part of the crowd, that had, apparently, come down a side street leading to the lake front. they had some trouble disengaging themselves from it, and, when they again had a fairly clear street to run through, they were some distance from the fire. "did we lose 'em?" asked fenn, panting from the run. "what? who?" asked frank, who did not exactly understand the cause for the sudden retreat. "those two--pickpockets," replied fenn, not knowing exactly how to classify the strange men. "here comes a couple of fellows on the run," said ned. "i guess they're still after us. let's wait and ask what they want. they haven't any right to follow us." "no, no!" urged fenn. "come on back to the steamer." he seemed so much in earnest that his chums did not stop to ask questions, but increased their speed. just as they reached the wharf, at the end of which the _modoc_ was tied, another fire engine, hastening to the elevator blaze, dashed by. there was a quick clanging of the gong, and a shrill screech from the whistle. it was instantly followed by a shout. "the engine struck one of the men!" cried frank, looking back. "he's knocked down! run over i guess! come on back!" the boys hesitated. they did not want to leave an injured man, even if he and his companion had been pursuing them. the street, at this point, was deserted, save for the two strangers. the engine did not stop, the horses being urged on by the driver, who did not want to have the reputation of arriving last at the conflagration. "come on back and help him," urged bart, who was always anxious to aid persons in distress, even if they were enemies. the others hesitated. it was rather a risk, fenn thought. but the problem was solved for them. the man who had been knocked down by the engine arose to his feet. supporting himself on the shoulder of his companion he limped off up the street, and away from the boys. "i guess he isn't badly hurt," remarked ned. "he'll not chase us any more. that engine came along just in time." "except i guess it's too late to help put out the fire," said frank. "there can't be much left of the elevator." "but what did we run for?" asked ned. "who were those chaps, fenn?" fenn explained what he had heard, and expressed the belief that the men had some business enmity against mr. hayward. "they seemed delighted that the elevator, containing his grain, burned down; or at least the one man did," he said. "then, when they saw i was listening, though i didn't really intend to, they acted as though they wanted to get hold of me, and see why i was so interested. i thought they might be pickpockets, but now i don't believe they were." "we must tell captain wiggs about it," suggested frank. "i don't believe i will," answered fenn. "i don't want him to laugh at me, and i think he surely will if i suggest that the men chased us. he'll probably think we took two harmless citizens for burglars. no, i think the best plan will be to wait and see what turns up." "i'll tell you what you can do," spoke ned. "what?" inquired fenn. "you can ask captain wiggs who owned that grain in the burned elevator. he'll know, as he was going to get a load there." "good idea," responded fenn. "i will." the boys were soon aboard the ship again. they found that the men in the rowboat had returned, as the side of the elevator nearest the lake had all burned away, and their hose was no longer effective. the fire was under control now, but was still blazing well. enough engines had arrived to prevent it spreading. "well, this knocks my plans all askew," remarked the commander of the _modoc_, when the boys came on deck. "i don't know where to get my grain, now." "did you say the same company that owned this steamer owned that grain?" asked fenn, seeing a good chance to obtain the information he wanted. "no, i said they owned the elevator," replied the captain. "the grain is a separate matter. i don't know whose that was. whoever it belonged to won't get much good from it." "is there any way of telling who owned it?" asked fenn, for he thought, even though the men had mentioned the name "hayward," that it might be some other man than the one injured in the auto accident--some one else than the father of ruth. "why, i can tell by looking at my order slips," replied mr. wiggs. "why are you so interested?" "i was wondering if it was any one i knew," answered fenn, a little evasively, as he did not want to explain what had happened. "um--let's see," and captain wiggs who, followed by the boys had gone to the main cabin, began thumbing over the pages of a small book he took from his pocket. "'proceed to'--no, that's not it--'take cargo'--um--no, it must be on the next page--oh, yes, here it is. 'get cargo of grain at lakeville, from robert hayward company.' that's it. the grain belonged to robert hayward--why--er--say, boys, that's the name of the man who was hurt back there in darewell--he and his daughter ruth--you know him--why, fenn, he was at your house!" "so he was!" exclaimed fenn, his knowledge thus unexpectedly confirmed. "quite a remarkable coincidence!" went on the captain. "very strange! well, strange things are always happening. you didn't hear what started the fire, did you?" "i heard a policeman say it was spontaneous combustion," said frank, "but they always give that as a cause, when they can't think of any other." "i don't s'pose they'll ever find out," remarked the captain. "well, i can't do anything more. we'd better turn in, although it's most morning. soon as it gets daylight i'll have to hustle around and find out what i'm going to do." captain wiggs was a very busy man the next day, sending messages to the steamer's owners to ascertain their wishes. the boys visited the elevator, in which great piles of grain were still smouldering, in spite of the tons of water poured on them. fenn kept a lookout for the mysterious men, but did not see anything of them. captain wiggs had to remain tied up at lakeville until he received orders to proceed to the next port for a cargo that would be awaiting him there. the boys spent the time on shore, visiting various scenes of interest. "well, we're off again!" cried the commander, on the morning of the third day, as he came hurrying down the dock, waving a telegram in his hand. "tying-up is no fun. you may get under way as soon as possible, mr. sidleton," he added to the first mate. steam was up, and, in a short time the _modoc_ was again plowing the waters of lake erie. gradually lakeville was left behind, and soon they were out of sight of land. "ding-dong! ding-dong! ding-dong! ding-dong!" a bell suddenly sounded, with queer double strokes. "eight bells!" exclaimed captain wiggs, as he arose from a deck chair where he had been sitting, to the boys. "time for mess," and he led the way toward the dining saloon. as he was about to descend the companionway he looked over the rail. astern of the _modoc_ was a small steam yacht, coming on at a swift speed. "that's queer," murmured the captain. "what is?" asked fenn, for the boys were privileged characters. "that yacht," replied the commander. "she's been following us all the morning; ever since we left lakeville. i wonder what the game is? steward, bring me the glass," he called, and, when the binoculars were handed to him, the captain took a long look at the pursuing craft. chapter x the chase for nearly a minute captain wiggs continued his observation of the on-coming boat. then, laying aside the glass, he remarked: "i can't make anything out of her. it's a strange boat. never saw her on the lakes before. and they seem to have an uncommon interest in us. a couple of men on deck are taking turns in looking at us through a telescope." "two men?" asked fenn, beginning to get excited. "there are two on deck, but of course there must be more somewhere aboard," replied the captain. "and has one of them a--a sort of mean looking face?" went on fenn. "well, from what i can see of him through the glass, he doesn't look to be a very cheerful chap." "i'll wager it's those men after us!" exclaimed fenn, turning to his chums. "what men?" inquired captain wiggs. "the men who chased us when we were at the elevator fire," and fenn told of the adventure. "i wish you had mentioned that to me before," said the commander, looking grave. "this thing may be serious." "why? do you think they are thieves?" asked bart. "there's no telling what they are," and the captain took another observation at the steamer in the rear. "you know the lakes are part of the dividing line between the united states and canada. often criminals from both countries find it to their advantage to conduct some of their operations on the water, and there are any number of questionable characters plying on this lake. i can't make out why those men should want you boys, or fenn, more particularly, unless they think he may know something of their operations, and they want to stop him from talking." "well, they can't prevent me!" boasted fenn. "don't be too sure," cautioned the captain. "of course you have nothing to fear as long as you are with me, aboard the _modoc_, but don't run any chances while ashore. meanwhile those fellows have got to catch us first. they've got nerve, i must say, pursuing us as if they were government officers and we were smugglers." "do smugglers cross the lake?" asked ned. "they try to, and, sometimes they succeed. but i wish you boys would go down to dinner. i want to keep watch of this boat. when you finish, come up on deck, and you can stand guard, while i eat. we'll keep tabs on her then, and we needn't let any of the crew here know about it. it's just as well to keep matters a little quiet until we find out what it all means." the boys did not linger long over their dinner, and were soon on deck again. they found captain wiggs gazing at the pursuing steam yacht through the glass. "she's coming on," he said. "seems to have plenty of speed, but i guess we can show her a little ourselves. i'll give orders to the engineer to increase our rate some. then we'll see what happens. you keep watch, and let me know when i come back." he handed the binoculars to fenn, and went below. the four chums took turns looking at the on-coming craft. presently they noticed that their own steamer was making faster progress through the water. "i guess we'll leave 'em behind now," observed frank. "then you've got another guess coming," responded fenn. "they've put on more steam." the other boat seemed to spurt through the waves that were piled up in front of her sharp prow. she easily kept right after the _modoc_, and even seemed to approach closer. "i wonder what they'll do when they catch up to us?" asked bart. "wait until they catch us," suggested ned. "well, boys, how about it?" called captain wiggs, as he came on deck. "have you polished up the anchor chain, as i asked you to. the regular polisher-boy is sick, and i'm short handed." "you didn't tell us--" began fenn, when a smile on the face of the commander warned him that it was only a joke. "how is our friend, the enemy?" inquired captain wiggs, reaching for the glass. "well, we haven't lost her," replied frank. "so i see," observed the commander. "i think i'll have to try a little trick." he went to the pilot house and soon the _modoc_ was sweeping away from her course in a long, graceful curve. "there, now we'll see if they are following us, or whether they are just on the same course by accident, and are using us for pace-makers," remarked the captain, as he came back to where the boys were. in less than a minute the course of the pursuing vessel was also changed, and on she came, after the _modoc_, the black smoke pouring from her funnel, testifying to the fact that the engine room force was piling on the fuel to make more steam. "she's going to catch us or burst her boilers," remarked the captain, with a grim smile. "well, we'll see. i made them show their hand. they evidently believe we're bound for the canadian shore, and they think they have us outside the protection of the united states now, and can do as they please." he hurried to the pilot house, and soon there were several signals of the engine room bells. "we'll see if we can't get a few more knots out of her," observed the commander as he came back, and took a hurried look at the yacht astern. "i guess the _modoc_ has some speed left in her yet, even if she is only a freighter." true, the big steamer did go faster, but so did the pursuing boat. the chase was leading straight toward canada now. "can't seem to shake 'em off," murmured the captain, with a somewhat worried look on his face. "i've a good notion to lay-to, and see what they want." "i--i wouldn't," said fenn. "why not?" asked the captain quickly. "you haven't done anything wrong; have you?" "no, but--" "then i think i'll just ask them the meaning of this unwarranted chase. they haven't any right to keep after me like this, unless they're a government vessel, and they're not that or they would have shown their colors long ago. that's what i'll do. i'll stop!" he turned toward the pilot house to give the order. fenn took up the binoculars, which the captain had laid down, and looked through them at the strange steam yacht. he could make out the two men on deck, one of them--he with the sinister face--staring at the little knot of boys, who seemed, so unaccountably, to have become involved in a mystery. following the ringing of the engine room bells, the _modoc's_ speed began to slacken. captain wiggs came back to where the boys were and remarked. "now we'll see what will happen." hardly had he spoken than there sounded from the pursuing craft, which had not slackened speed, a shrill hissing. then a white cloud appeared to hover over her. "she's broken a steam pipe!" cried the captain. "too much pressure! i thought she couldn't stand it!" the strange craft was almost lost to sight in the cloud of white vapor that enveloped her, while, from the midst of it, came excited cries. chapter xi on lake huron "somebody's hurt!" cried fenn. "shouldn't wonder," replied captain wiggs, coolly. "there generally is when an explosion occurs in a boiler room." "aren't we going to help them?" inquired frank. "i'll give them any aid they need," said the commander. "we'll see how much the damage amounts to. i'll steam back toward 'em." he gave the necessary orders, and soon the _modoc_ was slowly approaching the disabled craft. the clouds of steam had somewhat dispersed, but that something was wrong was evident from the manner in which men were hurrying about the deck of the recent pursuing yacht. "i guess it wasn't as bad as i thought," remarked mr. wiggs. "they seem to have stopped the leak in the pipe. i hope none of the men are badly scalded. i'll offer 'em help, and they can take it or leave it. they've made enough trouble for me as it is." but the strange craft evidently did not desire any aid, nor did the commanders of it seem to court any investigation of what had happened. as the _modoc_ approached the other boat's whistle sounded, and then it slowly started off, like a lame dog running away from a fight with a superior antagonist. "had enough, eh?" remarked the captain. "i thought so. well, i'm not sorry that i don't have to get to close quarters with them. it looks as if it was coming on to blow, and it's no joke to have to tow a disabled boat on lake erie in a storm." seeing that his proffered offer of help was declined captain wiggs changed the course back to his original one. as the other craft turned about, and steamed slowly away, fenn watched through the glass, and the last thing he could see was the man with the ugly face, standing at the stern, gazing at the _modoc_ through a telescope. "he'll know me next time, anyhow," thought fenn, as he joined his chums, who were talking of the strange finish of the chase. discuss the recent happenings as they did, from all sides, the boys could not get at the bottom of them. no more could captain wiggs. but he soon found he had other things to think about than the chase which had ended so abruptly, for the weather changed suddenly, and there were indications of a heavy storm. "i'd like to make the detroit river before the blow comes on hard," he remarked. "i've got a pretty heavy load aboard, and the _modoc_, while she's a stanch craft, doesn't behave as well in a sea as she might. i've lost considerable time through that elevator fire, and stopping on account of those men chasing us, so i must make it up." the steamer was sent ahead at full speed, but the storm developed faster than the captain had calculated so that, when still several miles from a good harbor, the wind suddenly swooped out of the west and soon there was a heavy sea running. "why, it's almost like the ocean," remarked ned as, standing well forward, near the port rail, he looked across the lake and saw the big waves. "you'll think so, if this keeps up," responded captain wiggs. "lake erie can kick up as pretty a storm as i ever want to see, and i've been through some hard ones, i can tell you. this is nothing to what it will be if the wind increases." and that the wind intended increasing was evident from the way it howled over the big expanse of water, which was dotted with white-caps. through the waves the _modoc_ labored, her powerful engines and screw sending her ahead gallantly, though she rolled and pitched in a way to make the boys think they were on an ocean liner instead of a lake steamer. it grew quite dark, partly because of the clouds that gathered, and because evening was approaching. then the rain, which had held off for a while, came down with a suddenness that was almost like a cloud burst. fortunately the boys, on the advice of the captain, had donned oil-skins, and they were protected, though sometimes it seemed as if the wind would drive the rain drops right through their garments. "this is a terrible storm!" exclaimed ned, as he held on to the rail and tried to peer ahead through the mist and blackness. "wait!" fairly shouted the captain. "you haven't seen any more than the beginning." "that's enough for me!" cried fenn, as he made his way to the companionway and went below. the other boys followed, as the commander said it was hardly safe on deck. the _modoc_ was now laboring amid the big waves. the lookout, scanning the waste of waters for a sight of land, could see nothing but blackness ahead. it did not seem quite so bad to the boys, after they were in the cabin, though they had to sit braced in chairs to avoid tumbling out when the vessel pitched and tossed, and it was quite a task to move about, for there was danger of bringing up against some piece of furniture, or the cabin partitions. "an ocean voyage isn't in it with this," declared ned. "it's great!" "it may be, but it makes me feel sick," declared fenn. "i'm going to lie down in my bunk." this he did, saying he felt better when stretched out. the other boys followed his example, as the pitching was a little too much for them. they soon grew accustomed to it, however, and presently they noticed that the motion seemed less violent. "we must have come to anchor," said bart. "more likely we're inside some harbor," declared ned. they went up on deck and found that, though it was still raining hard, the wind had died down a little, which made the boat ride easier. "where are we?" called fenn, to captain wiggs, who was pacing the deck. "just entering the detroit river," was the reply. "we'll tie up at detroit for the night. how are you, boys?" "better now," replied ned. as soon as the _modoc_ was well within the river the effects of the blow were no longer noticeable. in a short time the steamer was tied up at a dock and the boys turned in for the night. captain wiggs had some business to transact in detroit, and spent nearly all of the next day there, giving the boys a chance to go ashore and see some of the sights. they resumed their trip that evening, through lake st. clair, and proceeding without stop to lake huron. emerging well out upon this vast body of inland water, the boys, one bright morning, got a fine view of it. "isn't it--isn't it big!" exclaimed fenn. "it's--it's simply--" "help him out, ned," suggested bart. "you ought to have some big adjectives on hand, left over from that last french history lesson. this is too much for stumpy." "it certainly is a lot of water," commented frank. "i thought lake erie was big, but this seems to beat it." the boys stood at the rail, absorbed in the contemplation of the beautiful scene before them. captain wiggs too, though he had viewed the lake many times, could not but admire the beauty of it as it sparkled in the morning sun. one of the men from the engine room suddenly appeared on deck, and, standing behind the commander, who was explaining something to the boys, waited until the captain had finished. "did you wish to see me?" asked mr. wiggs, turning to the man. "yes, sir. mr. mcdougall told me to ask you to step below, sir." "what's the trouble?" for the man seemed a little uneasy. "i don't know exactly, sir, but i think it's a leak." "a leak?" "yes, sir. mr. mcdougall thinks some of the forward plates have started." "it must have been the storm," commented captain wiggs, as he hastened below. "yet it's a good while taking effect. i hope it isn't serious." chapter xii ned gets a fish "hark!" exclaimed bart. "what's that sound?" "the pumps!" replied fenn. "they've started 'em. it must be a bad leak. we'd better get life preservers." "don't get excited," counseled frank coolly. "wait until you see how bad it is. these steamers are all built with water-tight compartments, and it would take quite a hole to make one of them sink. the starting of a few plates wouldn't do it." his words calmed his chums, and, when captain wiggs came on deck, a few minutes later, he announced that the leak was not a serious one, though it would be necessary to go ashore to make repairs. it was found, on docking the _modoc_ that the repairs would take about a week, and this period the boys spent in making excursions on shore, in the vicinity of the town. they had a good time, and the delay did not seem very long because of the many interesting sights. they visited a large saw mill where the logs, that had been brought down the lake in big rafts, were cut up into lumber, and the foreman of the plant showed them the various processes through which the tree trunks went before they were turned out in the shape of boards, planks or timbers. "well, we'll start in the morning, boys," announced captain wiggs one night. "the _modoc_ is in good shape again, and we'll have to make good time from now on, because of our delays." early the next morning the vessel was under way again. out on lake huron it steamed, plowing through the blue waters, under a sunny sky, while a gentle breeze stirred up little waves. "why don't you boys do some fishing?" asked captain wiggs, as he noticed the four chums sitting near the after rail, talking among themselves. "we didn't know we could catch anything here," replied ned. "i don't either," was the captain's answer, "but you can't tell until you try. there is plenty of tackle aboard, and you might land something nice. there are fish in the lake--plenty of 'em. the thing to do is to catch 'em." the boys needed no other invitation, and soon they had lines trailing over the stern of the ship, far enough away from the screw to avoid getting tangled in the blades. mr. ackerman, the sick passenger, who has improved considerably, also took a line, and joined the boys. "let's see who gets the biggest fish," proposed ned. "let's see who gets the first one," supplemented bart. "that's the best test." it did not look as if luck was going to be very good, for the lines had been over half an hour, and no one had had so much as a nibble. "this is getting tiresome," spoke ned, as he assumed a more comfortable position in his chair. then he tied his line to his wrist, propped his feet up on the rail, and lounged back. "well, if that isn't a lazy way of fishing!" exclaimed frank. "why don't you sit up?" "i will when i get a bite," replied ned. they resumed their waiting, with that patience which is, or ought to be, part of every angler's outfit. suddenly frank nudged bart and pointed to ned. the latter had fallen asleep in his chair. "let's play a joke on him," proposed fenn in a whisper. "i'll tie him fast in his chair." "no, let's pull up his line and fasten an old shoe, or something like that to it," proposed frank. "he'll think he has a big bite." they started to put this plan into operation, when, as they were about to pull up ned's line, they saw it suddenly straighten out. "he's got a bite!" exclaimed fenn. "yes, and a whopper, too," added frank. "look at it!" cried bart, as some big fish, at the stern of the boat, leaped out of the water and fell back with a splash. then the line about ned's wrist tightened. he felt the pull and awakened. "i've got him!" he cried. "i've got the biggest one!" the next moment he went sprawling from his chair, while his arm was straightened out in front of him, for the strong line, to which a big fish was attached, was fairly pulling him along. "look out! he'll go overboard!" cried mr. ackerman. bart made one leap, and grabbed ned around the waist. this saved the luckless youth from being pulled over the rail, but it did not release him from his predicament. "oh! ouch!" cried ned. "it's pulling my arm off!" indeed this seemed likely to happen, for the line was very strong, and the lad had tied it securely about his wrist. it could not slip over his hand, and the fish on the other end was tugging away for dear life. doubtless it would have been glad enough to escape, but it was fairly caught, for as they afterward found, it had swallowed ned's bait, hook and all. "let go!" yelled ned to bart, who was clinging to his waist. "if i do you'll go overboard!" replied bart. he felt his chum slipping from his grasp. "give me a hand here!" bart called to fenn and frank. they jumped to his aid, while mr. ackerman, in an excess of nervous fright, ran up and down the deck shouting: "captain! captain wiggs! stop the ship! a shark has got hold of one of the boys!" "what's that? what's the trouble?" asked the commander, hurrying up from the cabin. "a shark has got ned!" repeated the invalid. "shark? in lake huron?" replied the commander. "you're crazy!" "guess it must be a whale, by the way it pulls," said bart. "it's one of the big lake fish!" exclaimed the captain. "they're as strong as a pony. wait, i'll cut the line!" "no, don't!" begged ned, who, now that his three chums had hold of him, was in no danger of going overboard, though the thin, but tough cord, was cutting deep into his wrist, where he had foolishly tied it. "here, lend a hand!" called captain wiggs to a sailor who was passing. the man grabbed the line with both hands and soon was able, with the help which frank and fenn gave him, to haul in the fish. it seemed as if they really had a shark on the end of the line, but, when the finny specimen was gotten on deck, it was seen that it was not as large as the boys had imagined. "who would have thought it was so strong?" asked ned, rubbing his chafed wrist. "the speed of the boat had something to do with it," said the captain. "you were pulling on the fish broadside i guess, but it is a very strong species even at that. they're not often caught on a hand line." "are they good to eat?" asked ned, wishing to derive some benefit from his experience. "some folks like 'em, but they're a little too strong for me," answered the captain. "however, i think the crew will be glad to get it?" and he looked questioningly at the sailor who had helped land the prize. "yes, sir," replied the man, touching his cap. he took the fish to the galley, where the cook prepared it for the men's dinner. the boys tasted it, but did not care for the flavor. "aren't you going to fish any more?" asked the captain, as he saw ned coiling up his line, after the fish had been taken away. "that's enough for one day," was the boy's reply. "the other fellows can, if they like. my wrist is too sore." "lucky you didn't tie the line to your toe," said frank. "why?" "because you'd probably be walking lame now, if you had. as it is you can't sign any checks for a while, i s'pose." "oh, you and your checks!" exclaimed ned, in no mood to have fun poked at him. "moral! don't go to sleep while you're fishing," said bart. "well, i did better than you fellows did. you didn't get anything," retorted the fisherman. chapter xiii caught in the lock ned, at the suggestion of the captain, put some salve on his wrist, for the cord had cut through the flesh. then he had bart bandage it up. this done the boys resumed their seats near the after rail, and talked about ned's exciting catch. "i hope you don't try such a thing again," remarked mr. ackerman, as he came back from his cabin. "it's a little too much for my nerves." he sank down in a deck chair, and the boys noticed that he was quite pale. he seemed unable to get his breath. "would you mind--would one of you mind, reaching in my pocket and getting a bottle of smelling salts that i carry," he asked. "i think if i took a sniff i'd feel better." "i will," volunteered fenn, for mr. ackerman's hands hung limply by his side, and he seemed incapable of helping himself. "is this it?" asked fenn, as he reached in the upper right hand pocket of the invalid's vest and pulled out a small bottle. "no--no," was the answer, half whispered. "that is my headache cure. i think it must be in the lower pocket." fenn replaced the headache cure and explored the lower right-hand vest pocket. "is this it?" he inquired, drawing up a small box. "no, no--my dear young friend--those are my liver pills. try again. i think it must be on the other side." he still seemed too weak to raise his hands. ned was about to call captain wiggs, but fenn made another try. "i have it!" he exclaimed, pulling out a shining metal tube. "no--no," said the invalid faintly, opening his eyes and looking at what fenn held up. "that's my asthma cure. try the next pocket, please." "say, he'll kick the bucket if fenn doesn't find that medicine pretty soon," whispered frank. "guess i'll help him." fenn began a search of the lower left-hand vest pocket. he brought up a bottle, containing a dark liquid. wishing to make sure he had the right stuff, he smelled of it, before asking mr. ackerman to open his eyes and look at it. "is that it?" whispered ned. "smells bad enough to be it," was fenn's answer. "no, no. you haven't got it yet," spoke the invalid, in peevish tones. "that is my heart remedy. i must kindly ask you to try again. i remember now, it's in my right-hand coat pocket." fenn replaced the heart cure and made one more attempt. this time he brought up a short, squatty, round bottle. "that's it!" exclaimed the invalid joyfully, "now, please hold it to my nose. not too close." however, he spoke too late, for fenn had placed the open phial right under mr. ackerman's nose. the invalid gave one sniff, and then jumped from the chair as if he was shot. "wow! ouch! help!" he cried. "that's strong ammonia! i use it for hay fever. that's the wrong medicine! oh! the back of my neck is coming off!" he held his handkerchief to his face, the tears coming from his eyes because of the strong stuff. "i remember now!" he managed to gasp. "i left my smelling salts in my stateroom. but i can get them now. i'm better--much better!" "i believe he is," remarked frank, when mr. ackerman had gone below. "say, isn't he the limit, with his different kind of medicines?" "you shouldn't make fun of him," spoke bart. "whew!" suddenly exclaimed the captain's voice. "i guess my invalid passenger must have been around here," and he breathed in the ammonia-laden air. "he seems to be quite sick," said fenn. "sick?" repeated the commander. "say, i wouldn't want him to hear me, but he's no more sick than i am. he's only got a touch of hypochondriacism." "will--will he die soon of it?" asked fenn. "die? i wish i had his chance of living," went on the captain. "i guess you don't quite understand. maybe that word was too much for you. a person who has hypochondriacism has a little stomach trouble, and the rest is only imaginary. that's what mr. ackerman has. every once in a while he takes a trip with me, for the sake of his health, he says, but i think it's to get away from working. say, did he ask you to reach in his pocket for some medicines for him?" "yes," replied fenn, "and i had quite a time finding it." "i should think you would. he's a regular walking drug store. if he'd throw all his powders, pills and liquids away, and live out of doors, he'd be all right in a month. i'm not making fun of him, but i wish somebody would, some day. maybe it would cure him." "he seemed pretty sick," ventured bart. "but he was lively enough when he smelled that ammonia i gave him by mistake," said fenn. "ammonia?" questioned the commander, and the boys then told him what had happened. "ha! ho!" laughed captain wiggs. "that is the best joke yet! ammonia! oh my! i'll bet he was lively! why, i can smell it yet!" the little experience seemed to do mr. ackerman good, and it was several days before he complained again. then he was seemingly as badly off as ever, taking some sort of medicine almost every hour. but the boys understood him now, and did not waste so much sympathy on him. the _modoc_ steamed on, covering many miles over lake huron until, towards evening one afternoon, captain wiggs announced that morning would find them at the entrance of st. mary's river, the connecting link between lakes huron and superior. "can you boys stand a little jarring?" he asked, as they were in the main cabin, after supper. "jarring? why?" inquired frank. "because we've got to jump the ship over st. mary's falls, and we don't always make it the first time," was the answer, given with much gravity. "often we miss and fall back, and it jars the ship up quite a bit." "oh, are we going through the 'soo' canal?" asked fenn eagerly, for he had been reading up about the great lakes, just before coming on the trip. "that's the only way of getting around the falls," replied the captain. "i see you don't put much faith in my jumping story." "we have to go through a lock, don't we?" bart wanted to know. "yes," said captain wiggs, spreading a map out on the table, "we go through the canal, and lock, being raised up several feet, to the level of lake superior. if all goes well we'll be through the lock by noon to-morrow." "why do they call it the 'soo' canal?" asked ned. "because it is named after the falls," was the commander's reply. "the falls are called sault saint marie, and that word which is spelled 's-a-u-l-t' is pronounced as if it were spelled 's-o-o.' it is a french word, and means a leap, or water-fall. so you see when you say 'sault (soo) saint marie' you are really saying 'st. mary's waterfall.' the canal, and the city located along it, both take the name of the falls." the boys were up early the next morning to catch the first glimpse of the canal, lock and falls. it was some time before they reached them, however, and, when they did arrive at the canal, they found several vessels ahead of them, and had to wait their turn for entering the lock. they had a fine view of the surrounding country and the falls of st. mary's, spanned by a big railroad bridge. when they approached the lock, they saw that the canal was there divided by two walls of masonry making two locks and enclosing a space that was laid out like a little park, with grass plots and trees. along the edges of the retaining walls, which were very wide, many persons were walking. at last it was the turn of the _modoc_ to enter the lock. she steamed slowly ahead, and an empty grain barge was also sent in at the same time, the lock being large enough for two vessels. when the craft were in, the immense gates were closed behind them. the _modoc_ and the grain barge were now shut up in something like a box of masonry, with water for a bottom, and the sky for a top. the boys watched the men open the water-gates that let in a flood of liquid that swept in from lake superior, through the long canal. slowly the two vessels began to rise. the water boiled and bubbled, churning into foam as it forced its way in. it seemed as though it was protesting at being made to hoist the ships, instead of being allowed to course on to the mighty ocean. up and up went the great craft, being lifted as easily by the powerful water, as though some giant hand had reached down from the sky and was elevating them. a few feet more and they would be able to steam out on the upper lever of the canal, and thence into lake superior. suddenly a rope, that held the grain barge from drifting too close to the forward gates, parted. the churning of the water sent the clumsy craft ahead, and, in a moment the bow was caught under one of the heavy beams of the gate. as the water was still lifting, the nose of the craft became depressed, while the stern rose. then the barge swung over against the _modoc_, and a projection on it caught against the latter craft. the barge was now held down, bow and stern, while, from beneath, it was being lifted by an irresistible force of water. the barge careened to one side, and the _modoc_ began to heel over. "shut off the water!" cried captain wiggs, who saw the danger. "shut her off, quick, or we'll be stove in!" chapter xiv mysterious strangers under the forward gates, and through openings in them, the water was still bubbling and foaming, seeking to establish a level with that on the other side of the barrier. lower and lower sank the bow of the barge, for it was held fast on the beam. the _modoc_ heeled over more and more. "shut off the water!" again cried the captain. then the attendants at the lock were made aware that something was wrong. orders were shouted; men ran to and fro. with immense levers they shut the flood gates, and, slowly and sullenly, as though cheated of its prey, the bubbling subsided. "we must pull the barge back!" cried one of the lock men, running up along the cement wall. "no, don't do that," advised captain wiggs, as he stood on the bridge of his vessel, while the boys, who were much alarmed by the impending accident, had joined him, for they were permitted the run of the ship. "why not?" asked the man. "we've got to free her from that gate beam." "yes, but if you pull her out from under the edge of that beam suddenly, she's sure to bound up, and then she'll come slap-bang against the side of my craft. besides, i think she's held so tight that you can't pull her back." "what shall we do?" asked the man, recognizing that captain wiggs knew what he was about. "let the water out from the rear gate," was his suggestion. "that will lower my vessel and the barge gradually. they'll assume their right positions, and no damage will be done. then you can raise us again, and be sure no more ropes break. i don't want an accident like that again." the captain's advice was followed. when the water ceased coming in the forward gate, the men ran to the rear one and opened the valves there. out rushed the imprisoned fluid, boiling and bubbling at a great rate. slowly the two big vessels began to sink. the barge swung away from the _modoc_ and then, a little later, when the water had fallen sufficiently, the bow was released from the projecting beam. the two crafts were now in the same positions they had been in when they first entered the lock. men hastily fastened heavier ropes to the barge, and took several turns about strong bitts, so the ship could not again drift into danger. then the flood was once more allowed to enter the lock. again the vessels rose, and this time, without mishap, they were floated to the higher level of the canal. the forward gates were opened and out toward lake superior steamed the _modoc_, followed by the slower grain barge. the boys looked around them, being able to get a better view now, as they were some distance higher, being on a level with the top of the falls, off to their right. they saw a long string of vessels, some waiting to enter the locks to proceed east, while others were coming west. "that was a narrow escape," remarked bart, when the ship was again proceeding along. "yes, we seem to be sort of up against lots of hard luck this trip," remarked the captain. "i think you boys must be responsible." "how?" asked fenn, for the captain looked serious. "why, you're regular jonahs. if there were any whales in these waters i'd try the experiment of throwing one of you overboard, to see if i couldn't change my luck." "i'd be willing to jump over and take a swim," volunteer ned. "it looks nice and cool in there, and it's hot up here." it was a warm july day, and the weather was humid and unpleasant. "maybe when we get further out on lake superior, and come to some good place to tie up, i'll give you a chance to take a dip," responded the commander. "i'd like one myself." "ned must take care not to go to sleep, or he'll be carried under by a big fish," suggested fenn, taking precautions to get beyond the reach of his chum's arm. the _modoc_ touched at a port of call that afternoon, and captain wiggs found awaiting him a message which changed matters so that he did not have to be in any hurry to conclude his voyage. "this will give us a chance to lay-to, and go ashore," he said to the boys. "you might as well have a good time while you are on this cruise. no telling when you'll get another." it was a day after this, one of the hottest that the boys ever remembered, that the _modoc_ came to anchor off shore, near a little bay, on the edge of which, and about three miles away from where they laid-to, was a good-sized town. "now for a swim!" exclaimed ned. "can we take the boat and go ashore, captain?" the desired permission being given, the four chums were soon rowing toward where they saw a sandy beach, that seemed to be put there on purpose for bathing. they hauled the boat up on shore and soon were disporting themselves in the water. "oh, this is something like!" exclaimed fenn, as he proceeded to float with nothing but his face out of the water. "yes, you look just like a baby crocodile," replied frank. "i do, eh?" asked fenn, diving suddenly and coming up under frank, whom he ducked unceremoniously. "here! quit-erurgle-gurgle!" called the luckless one, as he sank out of sight. then the boys began to play tricks on each other, had impromptu races and diving contests, and enjoyed themselves to the limit in the cool water. "let's dress and go on a little exploring trip," proposed fenn, after they had spent an hour in the lake. "we've got time enough before we have to go aboard." his suggestion was well received, and soon the four chums were strolling back from the lake, through the dense woods that bordered it. they had not gone far before frank, who was in advance, suddenly halted. he motioned to the others to approach silently, and they joined him on tip-toe. "what is it?" asked ned. frank pointed through the bushes. beyond the screen of the underbrush the boys could see a road. it did not seem to be much traveled, but what attracted their attention was a big automobile, drawn back, and almost hidden in the thicket. "the machine's been abandoned," was bart's opinion. "it is probably broken." "hush!" cautioned frank, and not a moment too soon, for, at that instant two men stepped cautiously out of the bushes near the auto. one of them produced a telescope, and pointed it at the lake, which was just visible through the trees. the boys looked at the man. he seemed a rough sort of fellow, with an unpleasant face. he was poorly dressed, and the lads noticed that, standing against a tree near him, was a rifle. but it was a sight of the man's companion which caused the boys to stare again and wonder. for the second man was a chinese, though he wore american clothes. under his hat, however, could be seen the tell-tale queue. the white man handed his celestial companion the telescope, and murmured something to him, evidently in chinese. the other replied and applied the glass to his eye. no sooner had he done so that he uttered an exclamation, and began jumping about. the other man snatched the glass and took a look. then they both talked very excitedly, pointing to the lake and then at the auto. "i wonder what they can be up to?" whispered fenn. at that moment he stepped on a loose branch. it broke with a sharp report, and the chinaman and the white man glanced to where the boys were hidden. "come on!" exclaimed frank. "they may come after us!" chapter xv a queer find off through the woods ran the darewell chums, and it needed but a moment's listening to tell them that the two mysterious men were after them. "hurry!" called frank to fenn, who, because of his natural inability, was not able to run as fast as could the others. "come on, or they'll catch you!" "i don't see--what we've done--that we--should run," panted the stout youth. "these woods--are free. why haven't we--a right to walk in them?" "this is out west and they do things differently from what they do where we come from," responded bart, looking back. "evidently those men didn't want to be observed." "are they coming?" asked ned. "no," replied bart, pausing in his race, "they seemed to have stopped in that little clearing we just passed through." "the chinese is trying to induce the white man to come back," said frank. this was the case for, as the boys watched, they saw the pig-tailed celestial grasp his companion by the arm, and, pointing toward the lake, fairly pull him back along the path they had come. "they must be interested in some boat," suggested fenn. "say, fellows," he added hastily. "i'll bet i know what it is." "what?" inquired bart, as he stooped over to pick a lot of burdock burrs from his trousers. "these men have something to do with the two who chased us back at the elevator fire. i'll bet they're part of the same gang, and they're trying to work some trick on the _modoc_! we ought to hurry back and tell captain wiggs!" "oh, you're 'way off!" declared frank. "i don't believe these men even know those who chased us." "then who are they?" demanded fenn. "i don't know," said frank. "evidently they are interested in some boat they expect from across the lake. that is very evident from the way they acted; looking through the telescope, and all that. perhaps they have mistaken our vessel for the one they are looking for." "no," remarked bart. "i noticed when the chinese pointed the glass he aimed it in a different direction from that in which the _modoc_ lies." "then what boat are they expecting?" asked ned. "that's too big a question for me," replied bart. "it certainly is a queer thing to see a chinese and a white man in such close company, off here in the woods." "and then the auto," put in fenn. "what do you suppose that's for?" "it's part of the same game," was frank's opinion. "well, i don't know that it's up to us to discover it," went on fenn. "it's about time we got back to the ship, anyhow. come on. we'll keep on this way, and fetch around to the beach in a circle. then we'll not run across those two queer men." the boys advanced, laying their course as best they could. now and then, through the trees, they could get a glimpse of the lake, and they knew they were going in the right direction. they came to a little gully, in a dense part of the woods, and had to descend into it, to get across, as it extended for quite a distance in either direction. frank led the way, half slipping, half sliding down the sides. as he reached the bottom he gave a startled cry that alarmed his companions. "hurt yourself?" asked bart. "no, but look what i've found!" "a gold mine?" inquired ned, with a laugh. "part of a clothing store," replied frank. "look!" and he pointed to where, behind a clump of trees, was a large pile of men's clothing, hats, shoes, coats, vests, trousers and shirts. "that solves the mystery!" exclaimed fenn. "how?" asked bart. "why there's been a big robbery! the men have hidden their booty in the woods, until they have a chance to carry it away. those two men we just saw are members of the gang. they're keeping a look-out until their boat comes and then they'll take the stuff away. yes, that's it!" "i believe fenn's right," declared ned. "do you?" asked frank quietly. "then how do you account for the fact that all the garments are old? there's not a new one among 'em, not even the shoes. you can see for yourself." the boys looked more closely at the garments, which were arranged in piles, with canvas coverings tossed to one side, as though they had been protected from the weather, and recently opened. they did not touch the things, but it did not need a close inspection to show that frank was right. the garments were all old ones. "if there was a robbery it must have been of a second-hand store," went on frank, "and that's not likely. besides, see here," and he pointed a little farther off, where a heap of chinese clothing lay on the ground. "well, if this doesn't beat the dutch!" exclaimed bart. "what do you make out of that?" it was a strange find. first to come across a chinese and an american, in excited conversation in the depths of the woods, and then to discover a pile of clothes, such as are worn by white men, close to a heap, evidently discarded by a band of celestials, was sufficient, as bart said, to beat not only the dutch, but the french, english, german, spanish and a few other nations. the boys went closer to the garments of the celestials. these clothes, as did the others, exhibited unmistakable signs of wear. but they were not piled in orderly heaps; instead, being tossed carelessly together, as if they were no longer of any service. "isn't this a regular chinese puzzle?" remarked ned. "i believe they are chinese smugglers!" chorused fenn and bart. "that's what," said frank. "those two men we saw were evidently the look-outs, watching for the boat load to arrive. when the travelers from the flowery kingdom land, they are brought here, to this secluded place, and here they take off their blouses and wide pants, and put on old american clothes. old ones, so they attract no attention. i'll wager that's the solution to this chinese puzzle." "but where do the chinamen come from?" asked ned. "we're a good ways from china." "from canada," answered frank. "i remember reading lately about a lot of chinese who were taken into canada from the pacific coast. they were brought by rail to a place on lake superior about opposite here, and smuggled into this country in boats." "that's right," agreed bart. "i read how one boat load, which the smugglers were bringing over, was caught in a storm, and all the chinese drowned." "but why do they bring them over?" asked fenn, who was usually too full of fun, or too interested in some girl, to pay much attention to current events. "why, there's a united states law against letting any more chinese come in," explained frank. "the only way they can get in is to smuggle here. it's easy to get them into canada, and then, if they can make a trip across the lake, and land in some secluded spot, they're all right, if they're not discovered, and that is no easy matter, as the chinese all look so much alike." "then that white man we saw must have been one of the agents engaged in smuggling," said bart. "i've read they have a regularly organized company, and get good money from the chinese whom they smuggle over. the pig-tailed chap with him, was evidently a helper or interpreter, who was on hand because the boat was expected." "that's why they were looking across the lake with a telescope then," ventured fenn. "say, it's as clear as daylight now. i wonder if we couldn't stay and see 'em land?" "not much!" exclaimed frank. "the chances are the plans are all off, for the time being. that white man will suspect we were spying on him, and when they ran back that time, i guess it was to signal to the boat not to land. we must have given them quite a scare." "but what was the auto for?" asked ned, who liked to go into details, and who always wanted to know the why and wherefore of things. "i guess it was to take the chinese to some place where they could stay until it was safe to venture out," said frank. "sometimes they have to jump around pretty lively, i imagine, especially if the government detectives get after them." "perhaps we'd better go and tell captain wiggs what we have discovered," suggested fenn. "he may want to notify the authorities." "good idea," commented bart. "come on." as the boys started to leave the little gully where the clothing was hidden, they heard a noise behind them. turning quickly they saw the white man and chinese, as they broke through the underbrush. "they're after us!" exclaimed fenn in a hoarse whisper. chapter xvi fire on board but this time it proved to be the other way about. the two mysterious men, at the sight of the boys, dived back into the woods again, and showed no desire to come to closer acquaintance with them. instead of taking after the four chums, the men acted as though they feared pursuit. "they're running away from us!" exclaimed frank. "i guess we haven't anything to fear from them." suddenly, through the forest, there sounded a shrill steam whistle. "what's that?" asked ned. "captain wiggs, signalling to us," replied frank. "i guess we've stayed in the woods too long. come on." "maybe it's the smugglers' boat," suggested fenn. "i guess not," frank remarked. "they've been signalled to keep off. that was the _modoc's_ whistle. i recognized it." frank's words proved correct, for, when the boys reached the shore, they again heard the signal, and saw steam coming from the whistle pipe of the vessel on which they were cruising. "look there!" exclaimed frank, pointing off to the left. the boys glanced in the direction, and saw a boat. from the funnels black smoke was pouring, as if every effort was being made to get up steam. "that's the smugglers' craft, very likely," the lad went on. "she's making fast time away from here." captain wiggs listened gravely to what the boys had to tell him. he agreed with frank, that the smugglers of chinese had tried to make a landing, but, evidently, had been frightened off. "what will they do now?" asked ned. "change the landing place to some other locality," replied the captain. "up or down the coast. up, i should say, seeing the way that steamer's headed," and he pointed to the craft, with the black smoke hanging like a cloud over it. the vessel was almost out of sight. "what will they do with the clothes?" asked bart. "oh, they'll take 'em along. probably that's what the two men came to get, when they saw you and ran away. it's a well organized business, this chinese smuggling, and there is a lot of money in it--for the agents. they are probably saying all kinds of mean things about you, for breaking up their plans." "then i hope they don't catch us alone off in the woods, sometime," remarked fenn. "that chinese didn't look like a very pleasant fellow to meet after dark; especially if he had a grudge against you." "i think you've seen the last of 'em," declared captain wiggs. "if i thought it worth while i'd notify the government authorities, but, by the time i could get a message to 'em, the smugglers will be miles away. there's no telling where they'll land next time. the steamer will hang around the coast, until it gets a signal all is clear. then the pig-tails will be dumped into a boat, rowed ashore, and the vessel will scoot off for another load in canada." the anchor was broken out, hoisted, and soon, under a good head of steam, the _modoc_ was proceeding over lake superior at a fast rate, for, though he carried no perishable freight, and had no special date of arriving at duluth, captain wiggs believed in doing what he had to do as quickly as possible. that night fenn, who was not sleeping as soundly as he should, in consequence of having eaten too much supper, was awakened by hearing a peculiar buzzing noise. at first he could not locate it, and then, after sitting up in his bunk, he decided it came from the stateroom adjoining his, and which had no occupant this voyage. "it sounds like a hive of bees," he said to himself. "i wonder if the captain can have any in there." then the absurdity of such an idea was apparent to him, and he smiled at his notion. still the buzzing continued, growing louder. fenn was wide awake now. "maybe something is wrong with the ship," he reasoned. "that sound might be water coming in through a leak. i think i'll tell the captain." he got up, and, moving about his stateroom, in search of his trousers and slippers, he knocked a glass out of the rack. "what's that?" called frank, who was a light sleeper. "it's me," replied fenn. "what's the matter? sick?" "no, but i heard a funny sound, and i want to find out what it is. maybe the boat's sprung another leak." "oh, you're dreaming," commented frank. "go back to bed." "well, you come in here and listen, if you think i'm dreaming," retorted fenn. frank jumped out of his berth and came into his chum's room. the buzzing had increased in intensity, and frank had no difficulty in hearing it. "what did i tell you?" asked fenn, in triumph. "it is a queer sound," admitted frank. "what's in that next room?" "nothing, that i know of. i passed it this morning, the door was open, and it was empty." "then let's have a look," suggested frank, stepping out into the passage. "maybe you'd better--maybe it's a--" stammered fenn. "well, what?" demanded frank. "are you afraid?" "maybe it's an infernal machine those smugglers put aboard," went on fenn. "it sounds just like one." "how do you know how an infernal machine sounds?" asked frank. "well, i mean like i've read of their sounding." "oh, that's different. but this is no such thing. besides, how could the smugglers get one aboard? they haven't been near the ship." this was, of course, unanswerable, and fenn followed frank into the corridor, and to the door of the stateroom, whence sounded the peculiar buzzing noise. as they stood outside the portal it could be heard more plainly. "here goes!" whispered frank, turning the knob. both he and fenn started back in surprise, at the sight which greeted them. there, sitting in a steamer chair, in a big red bath robe, was the invalid, mr. ackerman. on the bunk in front of him was a small box, from which extended cords, terminating in shining metal tubes, which he held in his hand. the buzzing was coming from the small box. "oh, boys, i'm glad to see you!" exclaimed the man who thought he was sick. "what's the matter?" asked frank, in some alarm. "i'm taking a current of electricity, from my medical battery," was the answer. "electricity?" repeated the two chums, in questioning accents. "yes, from the battery. you see i couldn't sleep, and i often find a current of electricity is beneficial. i did not want to awaken captain wiggs with the buzz of my machine, for it makes quite a noise, so i brought it into this empty stateroom. i hope i didn't disturb you." mr. ackerman did not wait for the boys to answer. instead he continued: "but i'm glad you came in. i want to take a stronger current, and it goes better if i have some one to share it with me. if you will be so kind, you can each take one of the tubes in your hand, and i will take hold of your other hands. thus we will form a circle, with me in the center. i think i shall be able to get a current then, that will cause me to go to sleep." the boys were a little apprehensive, for, though they had taken electric "shocks" at school, during the experiments, they did not care for the amusement. however, they did not like to refuse, so, rather gingerly, fenn grasped one handle, and frank the other. mr. ackerman then did something to the battery which made it buzz louder than ever. "all ready," he announced, as he grasped fenn's right hand in his left and frank's left in his right. the instant that he did so it seemed as if the trio had been hit by something. they all doubled up, the arms of the boys and the invalid jerking like the legs of a frog. "ow!" cried fenn. "let go!" called frank. but there was no need for any one to let go. with an exclamation of great astonishment, mr. ackerman jerked his hands from the involuntary grip of the boys'. that at once broke the circuit, and the current ceased to have any effect. the machine was still buzzing away, however. "oh, dear! oh, dear!" murmured the invalid. "i meant to turn on the weak current, and i turned on the strong one! did you get bad shocks, boys?" "did we!" exclaimed fenn. "say, it feels as if i had eaten some strong horse-radish by mistake." "it seems as if a mule kicked me," remarked frank, rubbing his arms. "i'm very sorry," apologized mr. ackerman. "i really did not intend that. i hope you believe i did not." he seemed quite distressed over the happening. "that's all right," spoke fenn, good-naturedly. "we know it was an accident." "rather a fortunate accident, too," went on the invalid. "my nerves are much calmer now. i really think i shall be able to go to sleep. i must have taken the right kind of a current without knowing it. i'll do it the next time i find myself too wakeful." "please excuse us from helping," begged frank, with a smile. "it's a little too much." "oh, no, i wouldn't think of shocking you again," said mr. ackerman as he began to take the battery apart for packing. "i shall take the current alone. but there, i must not talk or i shall be awake again. i must hurry and get to sleep." "isn't he the limit!" exclaimed fenn, when he and frank were back in the stateroom again. "he thinks that was fun for us." the electrical treatment appeared to improve the sick man, for, the next day he was much better, and even laughed and joked about the night's experience. the _modoc_ continued on her course, putting many knots behind her, and the boys were more and more delighted with their cruise, which every day revealed to them new beauties of scenery. one afternoon, when they were within a day's travel of duluth, captain wiggs, who was sitting on deck with the four chums, arose suddenly and began to sniff the air. "what's the matter? is the cook burning the steak?" asked fenn. "something's burning," answered the commander, with a grave face. a moment later a sailor, much excited, came rushing up on deck. "fire in the forward hold, sir!" he called. chapter xvii a strange vision captain wiggs was not built on speed lines. he was short and squatty, and inclined to be fat. but the way in which he hustled about as soon as he heard what the sailor said was sufficient to qualify him to enter a go-as-you-please race of almost any kind. with a few jumps he was at the companionway leading below, and, as he went the boys could hear him call out: "ring the fire alarm! every man to his station! someone tell the pilot to slow down! signal to the engineer to get the pumps in gear!" nor were the members of the crew slow to carry out the commander's instructions. one man rang the automatic fire alarm, that sounded in every part of the vessel. another hurried to the bridge, where he delivered the message about stopping the boat. the _modoc_ at once began to lose way and, a moment later, the vibration from the engine room told the boys that the pumps had been started. "let's go below and see if we can help," suggested bart, and the four chums went down in a hurry. they found men dragging lines of hose forward where little curls of smoke began coming from an open hatchway. "drown her out, men!" cried the captain. "it'll be all day with us if the flames get loose in that dry freight!" several of the men, dragging the snaky lines of hose, dropped down into the hold. they called for water, and the captain signalled for it to be turned on. the flat hose bulged out like a snake after a full meal, and a splashing sound from below told that the quenching fluid was getting in its work. "can we do anything?" asked fenn, as he saw captain wiggs taking off his coat and donning oil skins. "not now, i guess. you might stand by for orders though. there's no telling into what this will develope." it was getting quite smoky below, and the hold, down into which the commander had disappeared, was pouring out a volume of black vapor. "tell 'em to send another line of hose!" came a voice from below, and fenn hurried to the engineer's room with the order. several men sprang at once to obey. the hose was unreeled from a rack on the partition, and run out to the hold. then the engineer started another pump, that had been held in reserve. there were now three lines of hose pouring water on the flames, which the boys could not see. that the blaze was not succumbing so quickly as had been hoped for, was evident by the shouts and excitement that came from the depths of the ship. "tell 'em to give us more water!" yelled the captain to the boys waiting above. frank rushed with the order, glad to escape the smoke, which was momentarily growing thicker. "tell him he's got all the water i can give him!" shouted the engineer, above the noise of the clanking machinery. "one of the pumps has gone out of commission!" frank shouted what the engineer had said to captain wiggs, below in the darkness. "then we've got to batten down the hatches and turn live steam into this hold!" was what the commander called back. "tell him to get up a good head!" frank did so. when he returned captain wiggs was just making his way out of the hold. he was black, and smoke-begrimed, while he dripped water from every point of his yellow garments. "is there any danger?" asked ned. "there always is with a fire aboard a ship," answered the commander. "but i think we'll be able to hold her down if we get plenty of steam. come on up, men," he added, and the sailors scrambled up. they looked more like colored, than white men. captain wiggs acted quickly. when the last man was up, the hatches, or coverings to the hold, were fastened down, and tarpaulins, wet with water, to make them air tight, were spread over the top. then, from pipes which ran into the hold from below, and which were for use in emergency, jets of live steam were blown into the compartment. this, the commander knew, would penetrate to every nook and corner, reaching where water could not, and would soon quench the flames. "now, all we can do is to wait," said the captain, as he sat down, for he was almost exhausted. that was the hardest part of all. when one can be busy at something, getting out of danger, or fighting a fire that can be seen, the nervous fear is swallowed up in action. but to sit and wait--wait for the unseen steam to do its work,--that was very trying. still there was no help for it. captain wiggs looked to the other part of the cargo, seeing that there was no danger of that taking fire. the forward hold was separated from the others by thick bulkheads, and there was little chance of the fire breaking through. the hull of the _modoc_ was of steel, and, provided the fire did not get hot enough to warp any of the plates, there was small danger to the ship itself. "we'll have to head for shore, in case it becomes necessary to break out the cargo," decided the captain, as he went on deck. "come on, boys. we can do nothing now, and we want to get some of this smoke out of our lungs." the course of the ship was changed. captain wiggs got out his charts and looked them over. "where will we land?" asked fenn. "not much of anywhere," was the reply. "there is no good harbor this side of duluth, but i've got to do the best i can. there is a little bay, about opposite here. there's no settlement near it, but i understand there's a good shore, and i'm going to make for it, in case this fire gets beyond my control." urged on by all the steam the engines could take, though much was needed for the fire, the vessel plowed ahead. "land ho!" called the lookout, and the captain, taking an observation, announced they were close to the bay of which he had spoken. when it was reached it was found to be a secluded harbor, with nothing in sight on the shores of it save a few old huts, that appeared to be deserted. "not a very lively place," commented the captain. "still, it will do all right if we have to land the cargo." the anchor was dropped and then all there was to do was to wait for the fire to be extinguished. the boys remained on deck, looking at the scenery about them. back of the bay, rising almost from the edge of the water, were a series of steep cliffs, of bare rock for the most part, but studded, here and there, with clumps of bushes and small trees, that somehow, found a lodgement for their roots on little ledges. "it's a lonesome sort of place," remarked fenn. "not a soul within sight." hardly had he spoken than there was seen on the face of the cliff, as if by a trick, the figure of a man. he seemed to come out, as does a magic-lantern picture on a sheet, so quickly did he appear where, before, there had been nothing but bare brown rock. "look!" exclaimed fenn, pointing. "a chinaman!" exclaimed bart. "one of the smugglers!" the boys jumped to their feet, and approached closer to the ship's rail, to get a better view. as they did so the chinese vanished as though the cliff wall had opened and swallowed him up. chapter xviii an exploring party "well, what do you think of that?" asked fenn, in surprised accents. "did he fall down?" "doesn't look so," answered frank. "i wonder if we really saw him, or whether it was a sort of day dream?" "oh, we saw him all right enough," said bart. "he looked to me just like the chinaman we saw in the woods that day." "just what i was going to remark," put in ned. "i wonder if there are any more men up on that cliff?" "what's the matter, boys?" asked captain wiggs, approaching at this juncture. they told him what they had seen. "i don't see anything very surprising in that," replied the commander. "probably he has a laundry up there, and he was out looking for customers." and the commander winked at the other chums, who joined in a laugh at fenn. "that's all right," announced the discomfited one. "but i'll wager there's something queer back of all this. do you know anything about this locality, captain?" "not a thing, and i wish i knew less. i'd never be here if it wasn't for the fire. and i must take a look now, and see how our steam bath is affecting it. i guess--" "look there!" suddenly cried fenn, pointing to the cliff, at the base of which the lake waves were breaking. they all looked. there, on the face of the wall of rock, apparently supported by nothing, stood four men, two of whom were chinese, dressed in the characteristic costume of that nation. the others were white men. they were close together, near a little clump of bushes, that sprang slantingly out from the surface of the cliff. "more of 'em, eh?" murmured the captain. "i wonder if they'll answer a hail?" he put his hands, trumpet fashion, to his mouth, and was about to call out, when a surprising thing happened. as the boys watched the men seemed to grow suddenly smaller. they fairly went down out of sight, vanishing as completely as though they had sank into the cliff. "well, i never saw such a queer thing!" exclaimed ned. "they acted just like a jack in the box, when some one shuts the lid." "that expresses it exactly," admitted the captain. "it is a queer thing. i think it will bear looking into. i wonder if they haven't something to do with the chinese smugglers." "that's what we thought." "i believe i'll go ashore and have a look," decided the commander of the _modoc_. "the government detectives ought to be told of what's going on out here in this lonely place." captain wiggs would have carried his plan out, but for the fact that an inspection of the hold showed the fire in the cargo to be smothered. the steam had done the work effectively and there was no more danger. instead of having to remain in the secluded bay for some time, ready at any moment, when danger threatened, to break out the cargo, the commander found himself able to proceed to duluth. this he decided on doing at once, as the exact extent of the fire-damage could not be ascertained until he reached a port where he could unload. accordingly all plans of making any examination of the strange actions of the queer men were abandoned and, steam having been gotten up in the main boilers, the engines were started and the _modoc_ was once more under way. as they left the little bay the boys kept close watch of the cliff, but there were no signs of life upon the brown wall of rock. if the men were somewhere within a cave on its surface, they did not show themselves. "i wonder if we'll ever solve that mystery?" inquired bart, of no one in particular, as the four chums paced the deck. "i'm going to," announced fenn, decidedly. "yes, you're going to do a lot," returned ned, with a laugh. "you were going to collect minerals, but i haven't seen you stowing any away lately, for your collection." "that's so, i forgot all about 'em," admitted fenn. "i've got lots of time, though. you can't get any minerals out here," and he motioned to the expanse of water that surrounded them. "but i'm going to look into this chinese business, though." "how?" asked frank. "we're going farther and farther away every minute." "that's all right. we can come back," announced fenn. "i thought you were going to bayville to see mr. hayward, and--er--miss ruth," went on bart. "especially ruth." "well, i may yet," replied fenn. "bayville isn't so far from here. in fact it's within a short distance of where we anchored in that bay." "how do you know?" "i asked the captain," replied fenn. "i was thinking of taking a boat and rowing there, if we'd stayed long enough." "but how do you figure on getting there now?" asked ned. "i'm coming back, after we get to duluth," was the answer. "captain wiggs has got to remain there for some time, and i don't see what there is to keep us. it's a city, and we've had enough of city life for a while. i was going to propose that, after we'd been there a couple of days, we go off on a little side trip, coming back in time to go home on the _modoc_." "good idea!" exclaimed bart. "we could go on a little camping expedition." "that was my idea," added fenn. "we've got enough money with us to hire a tent and a small outfit, all we'll need for a week or so. we've been camping in the woods before, and we know how to take care of ourselves. this cruising business is fine, but it's too lazy a life to suit me." "no, i s'pose we haven't had any excitement since we started," commented frank sarcastically. "there was the elevator fire, those men chasing us; ned nearly being pulled overboard with a fish; getting caught in the lock; the steamer on fire and the queer men on the cliff. oh, yes, we've lived a very quiet and sedate life since we left home, oh, yes, exceedingly quiet." "well, i mean--oh, you know what i mean," said fenn. "we need more action--the kind we'll get if we go off on a trip by ourselves." "that's right," agreed ned. "i'm with you, stumpy. the sooner the quicker." "when do we get to duluth?" asked bart. "very soon now," answered captain wiggs, who, coming up behind the boys, overheard the question. "i suppose you are all ready to enter port?" and he looked quizzically at the boys. "ready. how do you mean?" asked fenn. "why you can pass the quarantine regulations, i suppose? let me look at your tongues!" the boys were so surprised that, hardly knowing what they were doing, they stuck them out for the captain's inspection. "bad, very bad," he murmured. "i'll have to attend to this at once." and he laughed heartily. "sold again!" exclaimed frank, as he drew in his tongue. "i thought we were going to get even with him." "so we are," declared bart. "if not now, on the trip home. we owe him another one now." they were soon busy getting things in shape to go ashore and, when the _modoc_ tied up at a big wharf, they were all ready to go to the hotel the captain had recommended, there to stay a couple of days, until they could start on their little exploring expedition. the captain had offered no objection to this, and had told them the best route to take. "but you must be back in time to sail with me on the homeward trip," cautioned the captain, mentioning the date and time he expected to start. "i'll not wait for you, remember. the _modoc_ suffered very little damage from the fire. less than i feared and there will be no delay." "we'll be here on time," fenn assured him. the boys spent two busy days preparing for their side trip, and, bright and early one morning, they took a train that was to convey them to a little settlement, whence they were to start for a jaunt through the woods, carrying their simple camping outfit with them. chapter xix fenn becomes ill "well, now, what's our program?" asked frank when the four darewell chums were in the railroad train, speeding through the outskirts of duluth. "i s'pose fenn will make a bee line for bayville and see ruth." "i intend to go there, not only to see ruth, but to see her father," announced fenn coolly. "it's no more than right, is it? he invited us to come and see him, if we ever got out this way, and here we are. it would be mean not to pay a visit." "oh, yes, stumpy," remarked ned. "we know just how you feel about it," and he laughed, whereat fenn blushed, for he was rather sensitive concerning his liking for young ladies. "leaving mr. hayward out of it, what do you intend to do, after we've got our camp established?" asked frank, looking at fenn, with whom this idea had originated. "i'm going to see what those men were doing on the cliff," was the decided answer. "maybe they were chinese smugglers. if they were--" "yes, if they were i s'pose stumpy will climb up there single handed, make 'em all prisoners, and then write a half-dime novel about it," put in bart. "not exactly," answered fenn. "i don't see what's to hinder me giving information to the government, though, about the smugglers, if that's what they are. i understand there's a reward for that sort of information, and i could use a bit of spare cash as well as any one." "that's so!" exclaimed ned. "i didn't think about that. i'm with you, stumpy." "you'll want half the reward, i guess," interjected bart. "sure," said ned. "who wouldn't? why can't we all go in on this thing?" "of course we can," declared fenn. "we'll go camping somewhere back of that cliff, and then we can--" "hush! not so loud!" suddenly cautioned frank. then, bending his head closer to his chums, as they were sitting in two seats facing each other he added: "there's a man a couple of seats back who's been watching us pretty sharply ever since we began talking this way. i don't like his looks." "where is he?" asked fenn in a whisper. "don't look now," replied frank, making a pretense of pointing out the window at a bit of scenery. "he's staring right at us. it's the man with the light hat, with a white ribbon band on, whom i mean. you can size him up as soon as he turns his head." the boys cautiously waited for an opportunity, and took a quick inspection of the man frank had indicated. he was a total stranger to the four darewell lads, as far as any of them knew, but it did not take long to disclose the fact that the man was much interested in them. he watched their every move, and, when any one of them spoke, the fellow tried to catch what was said. the man seemed like an ordinary traveler, and, except for a peculiar cast in one eye, was not bad looking. "let's change our seats," suggested fenn, when the train had proceeded some miles farther, and the car was not so full. "we want to talk, and we can't be whispering all the while." they moved farther away from the man with the cast in his eye, and were once more discussing their plans, when frank again noticed that the man was listening. he, too, had moved up several seats, and, under pretense of reading a paper, was straining his ears for whatever the boys said. "let's go into the other car," proposed fenn. "if he follows us there we'll tell the conductor." but the man evidently did not care to run any more risks and the boys were not further annoyed. "i wonder who he was?" asked ned. "perhaps he had something to do with the smugglers." "oh, i guess he was just some fellow more interested in the business of other persons than in his own," replied frank. "i hope we didn't talk too much, so that he'll know what we are going to do." "that's so, he might go and give information to the government, and get that reward," announced fenn. "i wish we'd been more careful!" "well, i guess he'll have his own troubles finding that cliff," was bart's opinion. "we didn't mention any special place. our secret is safe enough." after further consideration of what they had said the boys agreed with this view. as they were now almost alone in the car they talked freely, deciding on what to do when in the woods. they had brought a small sleeping tent with them, some guns which they had hired and a limited supply of food. as they were going to be within reach of small settlements, villages or, at the worst, scattered farm houses, they calculated they could, from time to time, buy what they needed to eat. they had made a careful study of a map of the country they intended to utilize as part of their vacation trip, and decided on a place to camp that was not far from where they had observed the queer actions of the men on the cliff. it was also within a short distance of bayville, where, as has been said, mr. hayward and his daughter lived. they left the train at a station, near the foot of a small mountain, on the slopes of which they were to pitch their tent. their baggage and supplies was piled up on the platform and, frank, surveying it, exclaimed: "oh, dear, i wish we had that mule we used when we were rescuing my father. he could carry a good deal of this stuff, and we wouldn't break our backs." "aw, don't mind a little thing like that!" advised bart. "why it's not far, and we can make two trips if necessary." they decided this would be the best plan, and, taking what they could carry, they set off into the woods, the station agent agreeing to look after what baggage they left behind, until they came back for it. the weather was fine, and the air, in that northwestern region, was clear and bracing. "i could carry twice as much as this," announced ned, as he walked along, balancing his load on his shoulder. "here, take mine then!" cried frank quickly. "not to-day," retorted ned with a laugh. "i was only figuratively speaking." they picked out a good camping place, and, as they had brought the tent with the first load, they set that up. "now for the rest of the stuff, and we'll be in good shape for the night," remarked bart. "come on, fellows. why, fenn, what's the matter?" he asked quickly, as he noticed the stout youth seated on a log. "me? nothing. i'm all right." "no, you're not. you're as white as a sheet of paper," went on bart. "don't you feel well?" "sure. i'm all right. i guess i walked a little too fast; that's all." "well, take a good rest before you make the second trip," advised ned. "no, i'll tell you what we'll do," proposed frank. "we three can easily carry what stuff is back there at the depot. let fenn stay here and rest, and we'll go back for it. besides, we ought to leave somebody on guard," he added quickly, fearing fenn might object to anyone doing his share of the work. "oh, i'll be all right in a minute, fellows," said fenn, trying to smile, but making rather poor work of it. "it's the heat, i guess." "it is hot," agreed bart. "you go ahead and i'll catch up to you," proposed fenn. "i'm feeling a little better now." "no, you stay here and we'll fetch the rest of the stuff," repeated frank, and he insisted on it, with such good reason, also pointing out that if any tramps came along they might steal the tent, that fenn consented to remain on guard. in fact he was very glad to do so, as he felt a curious sensation in his head and stomach, and he was not a little alarmed, as he had never been seriously ill. "i hope he isn't going to be sick," observed bart, as the boys started back to the station. "we'll have to give up our camp if he is." "oh, he'll be all right," asserted ned, confidently. "it was only the heat and the walk." "i hope so," rejoined frank. but when the boys returned with the remainder of the camp stuff two hours later, they found an unpleasant surprise awaiting them. in the tent, stretched out on some hemlock boughs which they had cut before leaving, they found poor fenn. he was very pale and his eyes were closed. "he's asleep," whispered ned. frank entered softly and placed his hand on fenn's head. "he's got a high fever," he said, with alarm in his voice. "fellows, i'm afraid fenn's quite sick." chapter xx out on a hunt frank's announcement seemed to strike a cold chill to the hearts of ned and bart. sickness was something with which they had seldom come in contact, and they did not know how to proceed. "i suppose we'd better get a doctor," ventured ned. "where?" inquired frank as he came from the tent. "there isn't one within five miles--maybe farther." "haven't we any medicine?" asked bart. "i thought you said you brought some along." "so i did," replied frank. "stuff for burns, cuts and stomach aches, but i don't know as it would be safe to give him anything when he has a fever." "have you got anything for a fever?" inquired ned. "yes, some of those little, white tasteless pills, that come in small bottles. homeopathic remedies they call 'em. i'll read the directions." at that instant fenn murmured something. "he's talking!" exclaimed frank, listening at the flap of the tent. "water, mother. give me a drink of water," spoke the sick boy. "he thinks he's home," said ned. "here, i'll get him a drink, and you read the directions on that bottle of pills," directed bart. "maybe we can give him some." fenn drank thirstily of the spring water bart carried in to him, scarcely opening his eyes, and, when he did, he did not know his chum. "the smugglers!" exclaimed the now delirious youth. "we'll catch 'em! don't let ruth fall into the cave. look out!" the boys were much frightened, especially ned and bart. frank, from the experience he had had with his father, knew a little more than did the others about cases of illness. he read what it said on the bottle of pills and decided it would be safe to give fenn several of the pellets. "now, we'd better get the camp in shape for night," said frank. "we've got to stay here until morning, no matter what happens. we can't move fenn until he's better." "maybe he'll not get better," remarked ned, rather gloomily. "oh, cut out such ideas," advised frank. "he'll be all right. probably his stomach is upset. now hustle around and get a fire going. i want some hot coffee, and so do you. then we'll all feel better, after a bit of grub." once bart and ned had something definite to do they did not worry so much about fenn. frank took a look at him, now and then, in the midst of the work of making the camp. "he's asleep," he announced after one inspection. "i think his fever's going down some." "that's good," commented bart, his face losing some of its worried look. the boys ate a hasty supper and then made a more comfortable bed for fenn. the tent was big enough for all four to stretch out under it, but the three chums decided they would take turns sitting up, in order to administer to the sick lad. frank gave him some more medicine during the night, and, by twelve o'clock, fenn was somewhat better, though he still had a fever. it seemed that morning would never come, but, at length, there shone through the forest a pale, gray light, that turned to one of rosy hue, and then the golden sunbeams streamed through the trees. "thank goodness the night's gone," exclaimed ned, who had the last watch. "it seems as if we'd been here a week, instead of a few hours." "how is he?" asked bart of frank, who had assumed the rã´le of doctor. "no worse, at any rate," he said, as he felt of his chum's head. "do you think we ought to get a physician?" "i think we'll see how he is to-day," answered frank. "if he doesn't get any worse i believe it will work off. i'll give him some more medicine." there must have been some virtue in the pills, for, by noon, fenn's skin was much cooler, and he had began to perspire, a sure sign that the fever was broken. his mind, too, was clear. "what's the matter? what happened?" he asked. "was i sick?" "i guess it was a little touch of sun-stroke," replied frank with a laugh. "how do you feel?" "pretty good, only weak. i'm hungry and thirsty." "that's a good sign. i guess we can fix you up." fenn made a fairly good meal on canned chicken and some biscuits which ned concocted out of a package of prepared flour. "i think i can get up now," announced the sick youth, as he finished the last of his meal. "no you don't!" exclaimed frank. "i'm the trained nurse in charge to-day, and you stay in the tent until night, anyhow." fenn wanted to disobey, but he found he was weaker than he thought, so he was glad to stretch out on the blanket, spread over the fragrant hemlock boughs. he was so much better by night that the boys were practically assured he was out of danger. they felt correspondingly happy, and prepared as fine a meal as they could in celebration of the event. fenn ate sparingly, however, and then fell off into a sound, healthful sleep. his three comrades took turns during the night watch, but there was nothing for them to do, save, now and then, to replenish the camp fire. the next day fenn was so much better that he insisted on getting up, but he did not have much ambition to do things. "we'll go hunting, as soon as you are able," announced frank, after breakfast. "our pantry isn't very well stocked." "don't wait for me," urged fenn. "go ahead. i can stay in camp, and look after things while you three are gone. i'll take my turn at hunting a little later." at first the boys would not hear of this, but, after fenn pointed out that they must have stuff to eat, they agreed to go hunting the next day, leaving him alone in camp, if it was found, by morning, that he was well enough. fortunately this proved to be the case and ned, frank and bart, carrying the guns they had hired in duluth, started off, cautioning fenn to take care of himself, and not to wander away from the tent. "we'll be back as soon as we have shot something to eat," promised bart. it was rather lonesome in camp for fenn, after his chums had left. at first he sat in front of the tent, watching the antics of some squirrels who, emboldened by hunger, came quite close to pick up crumbs. fenn scorned to shoot at them. "i think i'm strong enough to take a little walk," decided the youth, after an hour or so of idleness. "it will do me good. besides, i want to get a line on just where that cliff is, on which we saw the queer men." he started off, and found he had regained nearly all his former strength. it was a fine day, and pleasant to stroll through the woods. fenn wandered on, aiming for the lake, which was some distance away from where the tent was pitched. suddenly, as he was going through a little glade, he heard a noise on the farther side of the clearing, as though some one had stepped on, and broken, a tree branch. looking quickly up he saw, half screened by a clump of bushes, two chinamen, and a white man. the odd trio, whose advance had alarmed fenn, stopped short. then one of the celestials muttered some lingo to the other. an instant later the three drew back in the bushes, and fenn could hear them hurrying away. "i'm on the track of the smugglers!" he exclaimed. "i'm going to follow them and see where they go! i must be nearer the cliff than i thought." off fenn started, after the three men. if he had known what lay before him he would have hesitated a long time before doing what he did. but fenn did not know. chapter xxi the chinese button game was not so plentiful in the woods about the camp, as the three chums had hoped. frank, ned and bart tramped along, keeping a close watch for anything that would promise to restock the larder, but, for some time, the most they saw, were numbers of small birds--too small to shoot. "why can't we scare up a covey of partridges?" asked ned, rather disgustedly, after they had been out an hour or more. "why don't you wish for a herd of deer, or a drove of bears, that is if bears go in droves," suggested bart. "you want things too easy, you do." "i don't care whether they're easy or not, as long as there are some of them," retorted ned. "i'd like to hear how this gun sounds when it's shot off." "hark! what's that?" exclaimed bart, looking up as a sudden whirring noise was audible in the air over their heads. the boys looked up, and, to their surprise, saw a big flock of wild ducks, flying quite low. it was rather early in the season for them, as they learned later, but they did not stop to think of that. without further words, they raised their guns and blazed away. "hurrah! we got some!" yelled ned, as he saw several of the wild fowl tumbling earthward. "the other barrel!" exclaimed frank. "we may not get another chance, and we'd better kill enough to last us a week." they fired again, and killed several more of the ducks. they found the birds to be in fairly good condition, though they would be fatter later on. "they will make fine eating!" remarked bart, as he held up a string of the wild fowl. "maybe fenn won't like to set his teeth in a nice browned piece of roast duck." "providing he is well enough to eat it," added ned. "oh, he'll be well enough," was frank's answer. "but i'd like to get something else besides duck." "well, we've got plenty of time yet," suggested bart. "let's go a little farther." slinging their game over their shoulders, and reloading their guns, the boys once more started off. they had not gone far before a commotion in a clump of underbrush, just ahead of where ned was walking, startled the lad into sudden activity. "here's something!" he called in a hoarse whisper. "yes, and it's liable to come out and shake hands with you, and ask how you like the weather, if you yell that way again," remarked frank. "don't you know any better than to call out like that when you're hunting?" "i couldn't help it," whispered ned. "i saw something big and black. i think it's a bear." "a bear! where?" cried bart in a whisper, cocking his gun. "go easy," advised frank. "we stand a swell chance of killing a bear with these light shotguns. where is it, ned?" the boys were all speaking in low tones, and had come to a halt in a little circle of trees. all about them was thick underbrush, from the midst of which had issued the disturbance that caused ned to exclaim. "there it is!" he said, grasping frank by the arm, and pointing toward something dark. at that moment it moved, and a good-sized animal darted forward, right across the trail, in front of the boys, and, an instant later was scrambling up a tall tree as if for dear life. "fire!" cried ned, suiting the action to the word. he aimed point-blank at the creature, but, when the smoke cleared away, there was no dead body to testify to his prowess as a hunter. "missed!" exclaimed ned disgustedly. "and it was a fine chance to bowl over a bear cub, too." "bear cub?" repeated frank. "take a look at what you think is a bear cub." frank pointed to the tree, up which the animal had climbed. there, away out on the end of a rather thin limb, it crouched, looking down on the boys--a huddled bunch of fur. "a raccoon!" exclaimed bart. "you're a fine naturalist, you are, ned. why didn't you take it for a giraffe or an elephant?" "that's all right, you'd have made the same mistake if you had seen it first," retorted ned. "i'm going to have a shot at it, anyway." he raised his gun, but the raccoon, probably thinking now was the opportunity to show that he believed in the old maxim, to the effect that discretion is the better part of valor, made a sudden movement and vanished. "see!" exclaimed ned triumphantly. "he knew i was some relation to davy crockett. he didn't exactly want to come down, but he had some business to attend to in another tree." "that's an easy way of getting out of it," remarked bart, "but i'll wager you would have missed worse than i did if you had shot." "oh, come on and stop scrapping!" exclaimed frank. "we're not scrapping," retorted ned. "only i say i'm as good a shot as he is." "you can prove it, by shooting at a mark, when we get back to camp," suggested frank. "just now we're out hunting, not trying to decide a rifle match." but word seemed to have gone through the woods that three mighty boy hunters were abroad, and all the game appeared to have gone into hiding. tramp as the chums did, for several miles, they got no further sight of anything worth shooting at. "i guess we'll have to be content with the ducks, and go back," remarked frank, after a somewhat long jaunt in silence. "fenn may be lonesome waiting for us." "i know my stomach is lonesome for something to eat," returned bart. "the sooner some of these ducks are roasting, or stewing or cooking in whatever is the quickest way, the better i'll like it." "all right, let's head for camp," agreed ned, and, having picked out their trail, by the help of a compass they carried, they were soon journeying toward where their tent was set up. "i hope fenn is all right," remarked frank, as they trudged onward. "all right? why shouldn't he be?" inquired bart. "well, i was a little worried about leaving him alone." "why fenn is able to take care of himself," declared ned. "besides, what's there to be afraid of?" "i don't know," admitted frank. "but suppose another spell of fever should suddenly develop, and he was all alone? it wouldn't be very nice." "well, he was as anxious to have us go as we were to start off," remarked bart. "i know it, but still, i can't help feeling a little anxious." "oh, he'll be all right," declared bart, confidently. "he'll have a good fire ready for us, coffee made, and all we'll have to do will be to clean these ducks and put them to roast." "i hope so," replied frank. the boys, in the excitement of the chase, had gone farther into the woods than they had anticipated on starting out. consequently it was later than they expected when they got to where they saw landmarks that told them they were near camp. "it's only about half a mile farther now," remarked bart. "give a yell," suggested ned. "fenn will hear it and know we are coming." the three chums united their voices in a loud hallo; and, when the echoes had died away, they listened for an answering cry. none came, and the woods were silent, save for the noises made by birds flitting here and there in the branches of the trees. "he didn't hear us," said ned. "try again." "maybe--maybe he isn't there," suggested frank, in a low voice. "of course he is!" declared ned. "maybe he's asleep." "i guess he didn't hear us," suggested bart. "the wind is blowing the wrong way. let's yell again." once more they shouted, but with no effect. there came no answering hail. "come on!" called frank, increasing his speed. the boys spoke but seldom during the remainder of the tramp to camp. when they came in sight of the tent they strained their eyes for a sight of their chum. he was nowhere to be seen. "probably he's inside, lying down," spoke ned. it needed but a glance within the canvas shelter, to show that fenn was not there. in the gathering dusk frank gave a hasty glance about the locality. the embers of what had been the campfire, were cold. there was no sign that fenn had been there recently, or that he had made any preparations to receive his chums. "he must have gone off in the woods and forgotten to come back," suggested bart. "maybe he went hunting on his own account." "if he had, he'd have taken his gun," replied frank, pointing to where the weapon stood in a corner of the tent. "then he's out for a walk," declared bart. "he's staying rather late," commented frank. "i hope--" frank did not finish his sentence. suddenly, he darted forward and picked up something off the ground. "what is it?" asked bart. for answer frank held it out on the palm of his hand. it was a small object and the two boys had to bend close to see what it was. they saw one of the peculiar brass buttons that serve to hold the loops with which a chinese blouse is fastened. "a chinese button!" exclaimed bart, in a whisper. "the chinamen have been here!" added ned. "it looks as if the smugglers had fenn," said frank solemnly. "they must have sneaked in here and carried him off!" chapter xxii fenn's mishap fenn had not gone very far, in pursuit of the two chinamen and their white companion, before he became aware that he was not as strong as he thought he was. in his legs there was strange trembling, and his head felt dizzy. "i guess i was sicker than i imagined," he said to himself, as he kept doggedly on. "but i'll trail 'em. i'm going to find out where they are staying, how they get to the cliff, and what it's all about." ahead of him fenn could hear the trio making their way through the underbrush. they seemed to be following some trail, as there was a faintly-defined path through the woods at this point. "they must be preparing to smuggle in a shipload of chinese," thought fenn. "probably it's the same gang we scared off farther down the lake. they've come up here. oh, if i had some way of sending word to a government detective, i could catch 'em in the very act! but, if i can find out where the landing place is i can show the officers how to get to it. that is, if they don't take the alarm and skip out. they must know me by this time." the trail was becoming more difficult to follow. it still led toward the lake and fenn was sure he was on the right track. already he had visions of what he would do with the reward money, after he had given his chums their shares. "whew! but i'm getting tired!" exclaimed the lad, after making his way through a particularly thick bit of underbrush. "i wish some of the fellows were along to take up the chase. i wonder if they're going much farther?" he paused a moment to rest, and listened intently for a sound of the retreating footsteps of those ahead of him. "why," he exclaimed, after a second or two. "i can't hear them!" there were no sounds save those made by the birds and small beasts of the forest. "they've distanced me!" fern exclaimed. "i couldn't keep up with them! now i've lost track of them! what shall i do?" he was trembling, partly from excitement, and partly from nervousness and weakness. a mist seemed to come before his eyes. he looked about him and saw, off to the left, a little hill. "i'll climb that, and see if i can catch a glimpse of them," he said, speaking aloud. the sound of his own voice seemed to bring his confidence back to him. his legs lost their trembling and he felt stronger. up to the summit of the hill he made his way, finding it a more toilsome climb than he had imagined. he reached the top. below him, stretched out like a narrow ribbon of gray on a background of green, was the little trail he had been following, and which had been taken by the three men. it wound in and out among the woods, extending toward the lake, a glimpse of the shining water of which fenn could just catch. something moving on the trail caught his eye. he looked intently at it, and, the next moment he exclaimed: "there they are! they're hurrying along as if a whole band of detectives was after them, instead of me alone. now to see if i can't catch up to them." he gave one more look at the two celestials and the white man, who, every moment were nearing their goal, and then, hurried down the other side of the hill, to cut across through the woods at the foot, and so reach the trail. fenn had not gone more than a dozen steps when suddenly, having made a jump over a large boulder in his path, he came down rather heavily on the other side, in the midst of a clump of ferns. there was a curious sinking of the ground, as though it had caved in. fenn felt himself falling, down, down, down! he threw out his hands, and tried to grab something. he grasped a bunch of fern, but this went down with him. "help! help!" he instinctively called, though he knew no one was within hearing, save, perhaps, those three strange men, and he did not believe they would help him if they did hear his calls for aid. fenn was slipping and sliding down some inclined chute that seemed to lead from the summit of the hill, into the interior of the earth. it was so dark he could see absolutely nothing and all he could feel around him were walls of dirt. they seemed strangely smooth, and he wondered how he could slide over them and not feel bumps from rough stones which must surely be jutting out here and there from the sides of the shaft down which he had tumbled. he put out his hands, endeavoring to find something to grasp to stay his progress, and then he discovered the reason for his smooth passage. the walls of the curious slanting tunnel, in which he had been made an involuntary prisoner, were composed of smooth clay. down them water was slowly dripping, from some subterranean spring, making the sides as smooth and slippery as glass. fenn tried in vain to dig his fingers into the walls, in order to stay his progress, but he only ran the risk of tearing his nails off, and he soon desisted. all he could do was to allow himself to be carried along by the force of gravity, and the incline of the tunnel was not so great as to make his progress dangerous. "it's the stopping part i've got to worry about," thought poor fenn. "i wonder what's at the end of all this?" suddenly, as he was sliding along, feet foremost, in the darkness, his outstretched right hand came in contact with something that caused him to start in terror. it was a round, thin slimy object, that seemed stretched out beside him. "a snake!" he exclaimed. "i've fallen into a den of serpents!" he drew his hand quickly away, fear and disgust overpowering him for a moment. then the thing seemed to be at his left hand. this time, in spite of himself, his fingers closed around it. "a rope! it's a rope!" he cried aloud, as he vainly tried to catch hold of it and stay his sliding downward. but the rope slipped from his fingers, and his journey down the curious shaft was unstayed. "this must have been dug by men," thought fenn. "i'll wager the smugglers had something to do with it. why, maybe it's one of the ways they land their men. that's it! i must be sliding right down into the lake. they use the rope with which to pull themselves up the slippery tunnel." this idea seemed feasible to him, and he made further efforts to grasp the rope, in order that he might stop and pull himself up, instead of being carried on into lake superior. for that this was to be his fate he now feared, since, as near as he could tell, the tunnel sloped in that direction. but though he occasionally felt the rope, first on one side of him, and then on the other, he could not get a sufficient grasp on the slippery strands, covered as they were with clay, to check his progress. "i guess i'm doomed to go to the bottom," he thought. "if i only fall into deep water it won't be so bad. i can swim out. but if i land on the rocks--" fenn did not like to think about it. in fact his heart was full of terror at his strange situation, and only his natural courage kept him from giving way to despair. but he was filled with a dogged determination to save himself if he could, even at the end. though it has taken quite a while to describe fenn's queer mishap, it did not take him long to accomplish it. he was slipping along at considerable speed, being shunted from side to side as the tunnel widened or narrowed, but, on the whole, being carried onward and downward in a fairly straight line. suddenly the blackness was illuminated the least bit by a tiny point of light below and in front of him. it looked like an opening. "there's daylight ahead," thought the boy. "that must be where the fresh air comes from," for he had noticed that the tunnel was not close, but that a current of air was circulating through it. fenn was wrong as to the source of this supply, as he learned later, but he had little time to speculate on this matter, for, much sooner than he expected, he had reached the spot of the light. he saw, suddenly looming before him, an opening that marked the end of the tunnel. the shaft gave a sharp upward turn and fenn was shot up and out, just as are packages that are sent down those iron chutes from the sidewalk into store basements. a moment later the boy, covered with mud from head to foot, found himself on a narrow ledge on the face of a cliff overlooking lake superior. he lay, partly stunned for a moment, and blinking at the strong light into which he had come from the darkness of the shaft. below him rolled the great lake, on which he and his chums had so recently been sailing in the _modoc_. fenn arose to his feet, and gave a glance about him. "it's the same place!" he murmured. "the same place where we saw the men who so mysteriously disappeared! i'm on the track of their secret!" he looked at the ledge on which he stood. it was long and narrow, and, not far from where he was, he saw a partly-round opening, that seemed to be the mouth of another shaft, leading straight down. "well, more wonders!" exclaimed fenn, walking toward it. as he did so, he was startled to see the head of a man emerge from the second shaft. the fellow gave one look at fenn and then, with a cry of warning to some one below, he disappeared. fenn, startled and somewhat alarmed, hesitated. he was on the brink of an odd discovery. chapter xxiii the search following the finding of the chinese button, and frank's conclusion that the smugglers had carried fenn off, the three chums, back in camp, startled by the terror the thought gave them, stood looking at each other for several seconds. they did not quite know what to make of it. "do you really think the smugglers have him?" asked ned, of frank. "well, it certainly looks so. fenn is gone, and this button is evidence that some chinese have been here." "but might not fenn be off in the woods somewhere, and the chinese have paid a visit here while he was away?" asked bart. "of course that's possible. but i don't believe fenn, sick as he was, would remain away so long." "couldn't that brass button come from some other garment than one worn by a chinaman?" inquired ned. "it could, but for the fact that it has some chinese characters stamped on the under side, where the shank is," and frank showed his chums the queer marks, probably made by the celestial manufacturer. "then, here's another bit of evidence," and he pointed to the ground. ned and bart looked. there, in the soft earth, they plainly saw several footprints, made by the peculiar, thick-soled sharp-pointed shoes the chinese wear. "they've been here all right," admitted bart in a low voice. "what's to be done about it?" "i think we ought to see if we can't find fenn," declared ned. "we ought to follow and see where these chinese footsteps lead. maybe fenn is held a prisoner." "that's what we ought to do," agreed frank. "however, it is too late to do anything much now. it will soon be night. i think we'd better get something to eat, sleep as much as we can, and start off the first thing in the morning. maybe we can trail the smugglers by following the chinese footprints, and, in that way, we may find--fenn." frank hesitated a bit over his chum's name, and there was a catch in his voice. the other boys, too, were somewhat affected. "oh, we'll find him all right," declared ned, confidently, to cover up the little feeling he had manifested. "if those smugglers have him, why--we'll take him away from them, that's all." "that's the way to talk!" exclaimed frank. "now let's get some grub. what did we shoot all these ducks for?" the chums soon had a meal ready, but, it must be confessed, the ducks did not taste as good as they expected they would. however, that was more because of their anxiety over fenn, than from any defect in the birds or their cooking. morning came at last, after what the three darewell boys thought was the longest night they had ever experienced. they only slept in dozes, and, every now and again, one of them would awake and get up, to see if there were any signs of the missing fenn. "poor stumpy," murmured ned, on one occasion, when a crackling in the underbrush had deluded him into the belief that his chum had returned, but which disturbance was only caused by a prowling fox. "poor fenn! i hope he's in no danger!" if he could have seen fenn at that moment he would have had good reason for expressing that hope. "now for the trail!" exclaimed bart when, after a hasty breakfast, the three boys, shouldering their guns, were ready to start. "which way, frank? you seem to have run across the track of these smugglers, and it's up to you to follow it. lead on." "i guess we'll have no difficulty in following the trail as far as it goes," remarked frank. "when a chinaman goes walking he leave a track that can't be duplicated by any other person or animal. lucky it didn't rain in the night, for what tracks there are will still be plain. and we don't have to worry about a crowd walking over the place where they were. we're not troubled by many neighbors in these woods." they started off with frank in the lead, and he kept a careful watch for the chinese footprints. at first they were easy to follow, as the ground was soft, and the queer cork-soled shoes had been indented deeply in the clay. but, after a time, the marks became so faint that, only here and there could they be distinguished. then it became necessary for frank to station one of his chums at the place where the last step was seen, and prospect around, considerably in advance, until he picked up the next one. "if we had a hound we wouldn't have all this trouble," he said. "but, seeing as we haven't, we'll have to be our own dogs," retorted ned. "i guess we can manage it." they followed the footprints of the one chinaman for a mile or more, and then they came to an end with an abruptness that was surprising, particularly as the last one was plainly to be seen in a patch of soft mud. "well, he evidently went up in a balloon," announced bart. "it does look so, unless he had a pair of wings in his pocket," supplemented ned. frank went on ahead, looking with sharp eyes, for a recurrence of the prints. he went so far into the woods that bart called to him. "do you think he jumped that distance?" "i don't know," replied frank. "i'm going to look--" he stopped so suddenly that his chums were alarmed and ran forward to where he was. they found him staring at some marks in the earth, and the marks were those they sought--the footprints of the chinese. "how in the world did he ever get over that space without touching the ground?" inquired ned. "he must be a wonder, or else have a pair of those seven-league-boots i used to read about in a fairy book, when i was a kid." "look there!" exclaimed bart, pointing up to a tree branch overhead. "horse hair!" exclaimed ned. "i didn't know a horse could switch his tail so high." "horses nothing!" retorted bart. "that's hair from the queue of a chinaman, or i'll eat my hat!" "but what's it doing up in the tree?" demanded frank. "that's how he fooled us," replied bart. "he thought some one might trail him, and when he got to a good place, he took to the trees. they are thick enough here so he could swing himself along from limb to limb, and, after he covered twenty-five feet or more, he let himself down. it was a good chinese trick, but we got on to it. his pigtail caught in a branch. i guess it hurt him some." "yes, here are his footsteps again, as plain as ever," said frank, pointing to where the queer marks were to be seen. "but, say, we've forgotten one thing," said ned suddenly. "what?" asked bart. "we haven't looked for fenn's footprints. all along we've been paying attention to only the marks made by the chink. now where does fenn come in? this chinese fellow couldn't carry him; could he?" "not unless the chink was one of the gigantic chinese wrestlers i've read about," admitted bart. "that's so, ned. we have forgotten all about fenn's footprints." the three boys looked at each other. in their anxiety at following the trail of the queer marks they had lost sight of the fact that they wanted a clue to fenn, as well as to the smugglers. "i suppose we'd better go back to camp and begin all over," suggested ned. "no," decided frank, after a moment's thought. "let's try these prints a little longer. maybe they'll lead us to some place where we can get on fenn's trail." the others agreed to this plan, and, once more, they took up the search. they had not gone far before frank, who was again in the lead, called out: "here we are, fellows! this explains it!" ned and bart hurried forward. they found that frank had emerged upon a well-defined trail, that led at right angles to the one they had been following. but, stranger than that was what the trail showed. there, in plain view, were the footprints of two chinese and the unmistakable mark of a white man's foot. "there were two parties of smugglers!" exclaimed ned. "either that, or one member of the single party made a cut through the woods, came to our camp, and then joined the others right here," said frank. "still, i don't see anything of fenn," remarked bart. "no? what's that?" demanded frank quickly, pointing to footprints, quite some distance back of the others. "fenn's! i'll be jiggered!" cried bart. "i can tell them by the triangle mark, made with hobnails that he hammered into the heels of his shoes, after we decided to come on this trip. he said that would prevent him slipping around on deck." "those are fenn's footsteps all right--unless some one else has his shoes," declared ned. "come on! we're on the right trail at last." and the boys hurried forward, hope once more strong in their hearts. chapter xxiv fenn is captured for several seconds after he had observed the man's head disappear down the hole in the ledge, fenn waited. he wanted to see if the fellow had gone for reinforcements, or had retreated. after a minute or two fenn decided that the man was as much frightened as he himself was. "i'll take a look down that hole," he decided. "i'm not in very good shape for visiting company," he went on, with a look at his clay-covered clothes, "but i don't believe those chaps are very particular. i wonder what i'm up against? this is a queer country, with holes in the ground almost at every turn, leading to no one knows where." he advanced toward the shaft, down which the man had vanished, and, as he reached the edge, he saw that it contained a ladder. the ladder was made of tree trunks, with the branches cut off about a foot from where they joined on, leaving projections sticking up at a slight angle, and making a good hold for the hands and feet. "well, i s'pose i'm foolish to do this all alone, and that i had better go back to camp and get the boys," murmured fenn, as he prepared to descend. "but, if i do, the smugglers may escape, and i'll lose the reward. there must be an opening at the bottom of this shaft that leads right out on the lake shore. when the boats land the smuggled-in chinamen, they are probably taken up this shaft, then through the one i slid down, and so into the woods, and from there they are spirited wherever they want to go." he looked into the shaft, and listened intently, but could hear no sound. he was surprised to see that the opening, leading down to he could only guess where, was dimly lighted, seemingly in a natural manner. but his wonder at this ceased when, having gone down a little way, he noticed that the walls of the shaft were pierced, in the direction of the lake, with small openings, through which light came. the shaft, he then saw, was either a natural one, or had been bored, straight down the cliff, and at no great distance from the perpendicular face of it. the sides seemed to be of soft rock, or hard clay, and the tree-trunk ladders were fastened up against the walls by long wooden stakes, driven in deeply. there were several tree trunks, one after another, and from the smoothness of the jutting prongs it was evident that they were often used. down fenn climbed, stopping every now and then to peer through the ventilating and light holes. he caught glimpses of the great lake, that lay at the foot of the cliff, toward the bottom of which he was descending in this strange manner. "queer i don't hear or see anything more of those men i was chasing," mused the boy as he paused a moment opposite one of the air holes to get his breath. "i wonder what became of the two chinese and the white chap? then there's that man who stuck his head up out of this hole. he looked like a miner, for his hat was all covered with dirt. that reminds me, where's my hat?" instinctively he looked about him, as though he would find it hanging on one of the prongs of the tree-trunk ladder, which might answer as a hat rack. then he laughed at himself. "i remember now," he said. "it flew off when i fell through that clump of fern into the hole i thought led to china. guess i'll have to make my bow without my hat." he glanced below him. it seemed as if he was at the last of the ventilating openings for, further down, there were no glimmerings of daylight, which was fast waning. then, as he looked, he caught the flickering of a torch, not far down. it waved to and fro, casting queer shadows on the walls of the shaft, and then the person holding it seemed coming up the ladder. "now there's going to be trouble," thought fenn. "we can't pass on this thing. either he's got to wait until i get down, or i'll have to go all the way back to the top. i wonder if i better yell to let him know i'm here? no, that wouldn't be just the thing. i'll try to slip around between the wall and the ladder, and, maybe, he'll pass me." fenn proceeded to put this rather risky plan into operation. holding on by both hands to one of the projecting branches he endeavored to swing himself around. the man with the torch was coming nearer and nearer. suddenly fenn's hold slipped. he tried to recover himself but without avail. the next moment his hands lost their grip and he went plunging down into the darkness below, faintly illuminated by the smoking torch. then he knew no more. when fenn came to his senses it was only with the utmost difficulty that he could recall what had happened. he had a hazy recollection of having been in some dark hole--then a light was seen--then he slipped--then came blackness and then-he tried to raise himself from where he lay, and a rustling told him he was reclining on a bed of straw. by the light of a torch stuck in the earthen wall of what seemed to be a cavern, fenn could make out the shadows of several men, grotesquely large and misshapen, moving about. from the distance came a peculiar noise, as of machinery. fenn's brain cleared slowly, though from the ache in his head, he knew he must have had quite a fall. he raised himself on his elbow, and gradually came to a sitting position. he drew a long breath, and started to get up. as he did so, he felt some one place his hands on his chest, and push him back, not rudely, but with enough firmness to indicate that he was to lie down. instinctively he struggled against what seemed to him a dim shape in the half-darkness. "lie down," a man's voice commanded. "you'll be all right in a little while. you had quite a fall." "what's the matter? where am i? who are you?" asked fenn. "that's all right now, sonny," was the reply in such soothing tones, as one sometimes uses toward a fretful child. "you're in safe hands." "has the kid woke up?" called a voice from the blackness beyond the circle of light cast by the torches. "yes," answered the man who had made fenn lie down. following the words there was a sudden increase in the illumination of the cavern, and fenn saw a big man approaching, carrying a torch. with him were several others. one of them had a rope. "are you--are you going to make me a prisoner?" asked fenn, his heart sinking. "that's what we are." just then another man flashed a torch in the boy's face. no sooner had he done so than he called out: "great scott! if it isn't the very kid i chased!" fenn glanced quickly up and saw, standing before him, the man with the sinister face--the man who had pursued him at the elevator fire. beside him was a man with a peculiar cast in one eye, and fenn knew he was the fellow who had listened to the conversation of the chums in the railroad car. chapter xxv an unexpected meeting along the trail, which they had thus suddenly come upon, fairly ran frank, ned and bart. now that they were sure fenn was ahead of them, though they could not tell how long since he had passed that way, they were anxious to find their chum as soon as possible. "it looks as if fenn was chasing the chinese and the white man, instead of them being after him," suggested ned. "unless they are leading him with a rope," remarked frank. "in that case he would be marching behind." "well, i'll bet they'd have a fine time making fenn march along with a rope on him," said bart. "he'd lie down and make 'em drag him. that would be fenn's way." "unless he's too sick to make any resistance," replied frank, who seemed to take a gloomy view of it. "well, there's no good wasting time talking about it," declared bart. "what we want to do is to find fenn. then we'll know exactly how it was." "that's right; save our breaths to make speed with," added ned. though the boys were not lagging on the trail, they increased their pace until they were going along at a dog trot, which carried them over a considerable space in a short time, yet was not too tiring. they caught occasional glimpses of the marks left by the feet of the chinese and the white man, as well as prints of fenn's shoes. "there they go, up that hill!" exclaimed ned, who, for the time being, was in the advance. "who? the men?" called bart quickly. "no, the footprints. come on," and he led the way up the little hill, up which fenn had hurried the day previous, with such disastrous results. fortunately the pace was beginning to tell on ned, and, as he reached the summit, and started down the other side, he slowed up. it was to this circumstance that he avoided stepping right into the hole of the shaft, down which fenn had taken that queer-sliding journey. "look here!" yelled ned, so excitedly that his two companions fairly jumped up to gain his side, thinking he must have come upon either fenn or one of the men. "somebody has fallen down that hole!" that was very evident, for the fresh earth on the edges, the scattered and torn clumps of fern, and the general disturbance about the mouth of the pit, showed that all too plainly. "see!" suddenly exclaimed bart. "there's his hat!" and, turning to one side he picked it up from the ground, where it had fallen when poor fenn took his tumble. "this shows he was here." "we were sure enough of that before," said frank, "but it certainly does seem to indicate that fenn went down there. i wonder whether he fell, or whether those men thrust him down?" bart threw himself, face downward, close to the edge of the hole. he looked carefully at the marks on the edges. then he got up and began looking about in a circle. finally, he walked back some distance down the hill. "i have it!" he finally announced. "all right, let's have it and see if we agree with you," spoke ned. "fenn came up this hill all alone," declared bart. "if you had looked closely enough you could see that the footprints of the chinese and the white man go around the base of the hill to the right. probably they made a turn, when fenn wasn't looking. he thought they went up the hill. he hurried after them, and stepped right into this trap. probably it was covered over with leaves or grass, and he couldn't see it, until it was too late. that's my theory." "and i believe you're right," declared frank. "it sounds reasonable." "then the next question is; what are we going to do about it?" inquired ned. "no use standing here discussing what happened, or how it happened. what we want to do is to get busy and rescue fenn." "that's the way to talk," declared frank. "wait a minute," suggested bart. once more he got down close to the hole, and peered into the depths. "see anything?" asked ned. "there a way to get down," replied bart, after a moment. "how; a ladder?" "no. ropes. see, there are cables fastened to the sides of this shaft, and it looks as if they had been used several times." bart reached down and got hold of a clay-covered rope, one of those which fenn had tried so vainly to grasp. "that's funny," remarked frank. "looks as if this was a regular underground railway system." "i'll bet that's what it is," cried ned. "this must be one of the means whereby the smugglers get the chinamen ashore. why didn't we think of it before? let's go down there. we can easily do it by holding on to the ropes." "it's too risky," decided frank. "there's no telling what is at the bottom." "but we've got to save fenn!" exclaimed bart, who rather sided with ned. "i know that, but there's no use running recklessly into danger. we can't help him that way. if he's down that hole, or in the hands of the smugglers, we can do him more good by keeping out of that pit, or away from the scoundrels, than we can by falling into their hands. fenn needs some one outside to help him, not some one in the same pickle he's in." frank's vigorous reasoning appealed to his chums, and, though they would have been willing to brave the unknown dangers of the hole, they admitted it would be best to try first some other means of rescuing their chum. "let's prospect around a bit," proposed frank. "maybe we can find some other way of discovering where this hole leads to. the lake can't be far away, and if we can get down to the shore we may see something that will give us a clue." "all right, come on," said bart, and the darewell chums started down the hill, in the direction of lake superior. as they emerged upon a bluff, which overlooked the vast body of water, they came to a pause, so impressed were they, even in their anxiety, with the beautiful view that stretched out before them. under the bright rays of the morning sun the lake sparkled like a sheet of silver. "i wish we were all safe together again, aboard the _modoc_," remarked ned, after a moment's pause. "same here," echoed bart. "but, if we're--" he was interrupted by a sound off to the left. gazing in that direction the boys saw, coming along the trail toward them, a man and girl. something about them seemed familiar. "mr. hayward!" cried ned. "and his daughter!" added frank, in a lower voice. "well! well!" exclaimed the man, whose lucky escape from the automobile accident in darewell, had led to the boys' acquaintance with him. "if here aren't my young friends, the darewell chums, come to pay me a visit! i'm very glad to see you, but i thought there were four of you." "so there are, father," interrupted ruth. "where is fenn?" she asked, turning quickly to the three boys. "is he ill--didn't he come with you?" "he's lost!" replied frank. "we're hunting for him." "lost?" repeated mr. hayward. "how? where?" frank briefly related what had happened since they had started from darewell on the cruise to duluth. "well i never!" exclaimed robert hayward. "that's a great story! and the last trace you have of him is down that hole?" "the very last," answered ned, looking at ruth, and not blaming fenn for thinking she was pretty. "this must be looked into," declared mr. hayward. "lucky i happened to be out here with my daughter. you see i live several miles from here, but to-day, ruth and i decided to take a little trip. i--i wanted to look at some land i--some property i am interested in out here. i was on my way to it when i saw you boys." the man seemed to have a curious hesitation in his manner and his words, and ruth, too, appeared under some strain. but the boys were too anxious about their comrade to pay much attention to this. "come on!" suddenly called mr. hayward. "where are you going, father?" asked ruth. "i'm going to find fenn masterson. i think i have a clue that will help us," and he strode forward, followed by his daughter and the wondering boys. chapter xxvi fenn's odd discovery mutual surprise showed on the face of fenn, as well as on the countenance of the man who made this surprising announcement in the cave, where we have left that rather unfortunate youth. the boy, who had been prepared to meet a band of chinese smugglers, now saw before him the mysterious person, who appeared to have some interest in the affairs of mr. hayward, and who seemed to be pleased that misfortune should overtake the man who had recovered from the auto accident near fenn's house. "well, how'd you get here?" asked the man gruffly, advancing closer to the captive, and holding his torch to throw the light on fenn's face. "slid part way, and climbed the rest," answered the lad, who decided to remain as cool as possible under the circumstances. "humph! well, i reckon you know where you are now?" "i haven't the least idea, except that i'm under ground." "yes, and you're liable to stay here for some time. you'll find, before i get through with you, that it isn't healthy, out in this country, to pay too much attention to the business of other folks. i'll pay you back for spying on me. i thought i'd gotten rid of you some time ago, but i see you're still after me." "i'm not after you," answered fenn. "i didn't expect to see you down here. nor am i spying on you. you're mistaken." "weren't you trying to hear what i was saying--the night of the fire--aren't you in the employ of robert hayward?" demanded the man, asking his questions too quickly to permit of any answer. "i'm not employed by mr. hayward, though i know him, and he is a friend of mine," declared fenn. "i wasn't intentionally listening to what you were saying that night, but, when i found you were an enemy of mr. hayward, i wanted to know more about you." "how do you know i am his enemy?" asked the man. "from the way you talked. besides, why did you chase after me, and try to catch us on the _modoc_?" "that's something for me to know, and for you to find out," replied the man, with an unpleasant laugh. "you're too wise, you are." "maybe i'll find out more than you want me to," retorted fenn. "no danger. i'm going to put you where you can't do anything for a while, and, after you've cooled down a bit, i'll think of what to do next. tom, come here," he called. a big man approached, and, at a nod from the fellow of the sinister countenance, gathered fenn up in his arms, in spite of the resistance the lad made. fenn soon found it was useless to struggle, so he remained quietly in the grip of the burly chap. "take him to the inner cave," directed the man, whom the others addressed as dirkfell, "and then come back. we need you in getting this last load out. after that we'll take a rest." fenn tried to see where he was being carried, but it was almost impossible in the darkness. there were several flickering torches, stuck in the earthen walls of the cavern, here and there, and, by the glimmers of them, the youth could see men hurrying to and fro. some carried picks and others shovels, while some bore boxes that seemed to be very heavy. "i wonder what sort of a place i've gotten into," thought fenn. "maybe it's--yes, i'll bet that's what it is--a gold mine!" for a moment the thought of this made his heart beat strangely fast. then cooler reason came to him, and he recalled that the region around lake superior contained no gold, though there were mines of other minerals, some quite valuable. this train of thought was interrupted by the sudden stopping of the man who was carrying him, as though he was a baby. the fellow stooped down, kicked a door open with his foot, and, the next moment fenn found himself in a small cave, lighted by a lantern hanging over a rough table, around which several chairs were drawn. "here's where you stay until the boss tells you to come out," fairly growled the man. fenn did not reply, and the fellow withdrew, taking care, as the lad noted, to lock the door after him. no sooner was the portal closed, than fenn began an inspection of the place. he took the lantern and held it close to the door. it was made of heavy planks, and the fastening seemed to be on the outside. as for the remainder of the cave, the walls were composed of hard clay, or harder rock. the place was a sort of niche, hollowed out from the larger cavern. "well, i seem to be in a pickle," observed fenn grimly. "that comes of prying too much into other people's affairs, i s'pose. no help for it, however. i'm here and the next question is how to get away. i wish the boys were with me--no, i don't either. it's bad enough to be here myself, without getting them into trouble. "i guess they'll be surprised when they get back to camp and find me gone. i wish i'd left some sort of a message. they won't know where to look for me." but fenn did not give his chums credit for their energy. the prisoner made a circuit of his dungeon, and concluded there was no way, at present, of getting out. he readily got rid of the rope that fastened his arms behind him. "i will just take another look at that door," mused fenn, when, having completed his tour of inspection, which did not take him long, he again found himself in front of the portal. he held the lantern up as high as he could. "if i stood on a chair i could see better," he reasoned. he got one of the rough pieces of furniture, mounted it, and, was just raising the light up to the top of the door when his hand slipped and the lantern fell, smashing the glass, and extinguishing the wick. "hu!" exclaimed fenn, standing on the chair in the darkness. "lucky it didn't explode and set fire to the oil. i'd been worse off then i am now." he was in total darkness, and was about to get down off the chair, and grope his way back to the table, when a gleam of light, showing through a crack in the door, attracted his attention. "somebody is coming," he said. "maybe they're going to let me out. or, perhaps, they heard the lantern fall." but, as he looked, he saw that the gleam was not made by a torch or lantern being carried by someone approaching his dungeon. instead it came from several torches stuck in the wall of the main cave. and, by the light of these torches fenn made an odd discovery. several men were digging in the sides of the cavern, loosening the clay and soft rock with picks and shovels. they were piling the material in boxes which were loaded into a car, that ran on a small track, and were hurried off, to some place that the boy could not see. as he watched he saw dirkfell approach, and, by signs and gestures, for fenn could not hear at that distance, the man urged the laborers to work faster. "they're mining," thought fenn. "it must be valuable stuff, too, or they wouldn't take out such small quantities. and they must be working in secret, or they wouldn't take all the precautions they do, to remain hidden. there's something queer back of all this, and i'd like to see what it is." fenn applied his eye closely to the crack in the door. he could see the men gathered about a cavity in the cavern wall, on which they were working, and, from the way in which they pointed at something the boy believed they must have come upon a rich deposit of whatever ore they were mining. "i wish i was out of this place!" exclaimed fenn to himself. "if i had the boys here to help me i'll bet we could escape, and then there'd be a different story to tell. "there must be an opening, somewhere," he reasoned. "that air comes from under the door. it's fresh, so there must be some communication directly with the outer air, from the big cave." he stretched out flat on his face, and put his eyes as close as he could to the bottom of the portal. he saw light beneath it, and, jumping up, exclaimed: "that's it! i see a way to get out. but i must wait until the men have gone!" an idea had come to fenn. the floor of the small cave he was in, was of earth. between it and the bottom of the door, was quite a space. if he could enlarge this space, it might be possible for him to crawl under the door, and this he resolved to attempt, as soon as it would be safe. he felt in his pocket to see if his knife was there, and his heart beat more rapidly as his fingers closed on the handle. it contained a large, strong blade, and he thought he could do his digging with it. but it would be necessary to wait until the men got out of the way, and, if they worked in two shifts, this would not occur. anxiously fenn waited. every minute seemed an hour as he sat there in the darkness, now and then kneeling down to peer under the door, to see if the men had gone. but, every time, he saw them at their queer operations, or taking something from the walls of the cave. he fell into a doze, to be awakened by the entrance of some one into his apartment. "where's the light?" asked a voice fenn recognized as belonging to the man who had carried him in. "it fell and broke," he answered. "humph! well, i'll bring another. the boss didn't give no orders to leave you in the dark. here's some grub. it's supper time." "what day is it?" asked fenn. "thursday. why?" the boy did not answer. he knew, however, that he had been in the cave a much shorter time than he supposed. it was the evening of the same day he had started to follow the smugglers. now he appeared to have lost track of them, but he was in the power of a gang as bad, if not worse. the man brought another lantern, and also some water. the food was coarse, but fenn ate it with a good deal of relish. "guess you'll have to sleep on the table," the man went on, as he threw some blankets down. "there's no bed in this hotel," and he laughed. but fenn was too busy thinking of his plan to escape, to care about a bed. he hoped, now that it was night, the men would stop working. and, in this, he was not disappointed. some one called a signal through the cavern, and the men, dropping their tools, and taking their torches with them, filed out of sight of the boy, watching from beneath the door. he wanted to begin his digging at once, but concluded it would be safer to postpone it a while. he was sure it must have been several hours that he waited there in the silence. then, taking an observation, and finding the outer cavern to be in blackness, he commenced to burrow under the door, like a dog after a hidden rabbit. the big blade of his knife easily cut into the soft clay, and, working hard for some time, he had quite an opening beneath the portal. he tried to squeeze through, but found he was a bit too big for it. "a little more and i can slip out," he whispered to himself. faster and faster he plied the knife, loosening the earth, and throwing it back with his hands. once more he tried and, though it was a tight squeeze, he managed to wiggle out. "now!" he mused. "if i don't run into anybody i can get to the foot of the shaft, and go up that ladder. guess i'll take the light." he reached back under the door, and got hold of the lantern, which he had placed near the hole, slipping it under his coat so that the gleams would not betray him. then, remembering, as best he could which way the man had carried him, he stole softly along, on the alert for any of the miners. he had not gone more than a dozen feet, and had just turned a corner, which showed him a straight, long tunnel, that, he believed, led to the foot of the shaft, when, to his consternation, he heard a noise. at the same time a voice called: "hey! where you goin'?" fenn resolved to chance all to boldness. taking the lantern from under his coat, that he might see to run through the cave, he sprang forward, toward what he believed was the shaft down which he had come on the tree-trunk ladder. "stop! stop!" called someone behind him, but fenn kept on. chapter xxvii a timely rescue fenn's fear, and his fierce desire to escape from the cave, lent him speed. forward he went, faster than he had ever run before. suddenly there loomed up before him a dim, hazy light, but it was the illumination from the sun, and not from an artificial source. "it must be morning!" the boy thought. "i worked at that hole all night. but how is it that the sun shines down the shaft? i didn't believe it could. there's something strange here!" all these thoughts flashed through his mind while he ran on, intent on distancing his pursuer, who was close behind him. fenn could hear the man's footsteps. once more the fellow shouted: "hey! stop! you don't know where you're goin'!" "i don't, eh?" thought fenn. "well, i guess i do. i'm going to get away from you, that's where i'm going." the dim light became plainer now. fenn could see that it came through an opening in the cave; an opening that was close to the ground. clearly then, this could not be the shaft down which he had come. he was puzzled, but he kept on. he threw away the lantern, for he did not need it any longer to see where to go. several other voices joined in the shouts of alarm, and in urging fenn to stop. he did not answer but kept on. "if i can once get outside they'll not dare to carry me back," the lad reasoned. "it's only a little farther now." he was panting from the run, for the exertion, following his illness, and the experience he had gone through, was too much for him. he felt that he could go no farther. yet he knew if he halted now the men would get him, and he feared for the consequences that might follow his attempt to escape. "oh, if only some of the boys were here!" was his almost despairing thought. "if ever i needed help i do now!" the light was so good now that fenn could distinguish the sides of the cave. he saw that he was running along a straight tunnel, quite high and wide, but which narrowed, like a funnel, as it approached the opening toward which he was speeding. "i wonder if there's room for me to get out?" he thought. "and i wonder where i'll be when i get out?" "hold on! hold on!" yelled the man back of fenn. "you'll get hurt if you go any farther!" "and i'll get hurt if i go back," whispered fenn, pantingly. "stop! stop!" cried another voice which the lad recognized as dirkfell's. "come back! i'll not harm you!" "he's too late with that promise," fenn thought. a few seconds later he was at the opening of the cave. he fairly sprang through it, finding it large enough to give him passage standing upright. he leaped out, so glad was he to leave behind the terrors of the dark cave, and the mysterious men, who seemed so anxious to keep him a prisoner. "free!" fenn almost shouted as he passed the edge of the opening. he was about to give an exultant cry, but it was choked on his lips. for the opening was on the sheer edge of a cliff, without the semblance of a foothold beyond it, and below it there sparkled the blue waters of lake superior! fenn felt himself falling. he was launched through the air by his leap for liberty, and, a moment later, the lake had closed over his head! meanwhile mr. hayward, followed by his daughter, frank, bart and ned was hurrying along, bent on discovering and rescuing fenn. true, they did not know where he was, but mr. hayward had a clue he wished to follow. as he hastened along, he told the boys what it was. "my daughter and i have been sort of living in the woods for the past week," he said. "we have taken auto trips as far as the machine would go, and then have tramped the rest of the way. i want to see how my land is. it is some property i bought a good while ago, and which i never thought amounted to much. but i have a chance to sell it now, and i may dispose of it. "i was looking along the lake shore, the other day, for some of my land extends out there,--and i saw a boat, containing some chinese and a white man. it was being rowed up and down the shore, and i thought, at the time, the men acted rather suspiciously. they seemed to be waiting for something to happen. i was too busy to pay much attention to them, but i believe now that they were part of that smugglers' band you speak of." "why didn't you tell the police, father?" asked ruth. "to think of poor fenn being captured by them." "we are not sure he is captured by them, ruth," said mr. hayward. "at any rate i'm going to the point on shore near where i saw the boat. it may be there is a tunnel running from that place on the hill, where fenn disappeared, right down to the lake. in that case we may find some trace of him there. this region used to be worked by some ancient race, i understand, who dug deep into the earth after certain minerals and ores. there are several tunnels, shafts and queer passages through the hills and along shore, i have heard; shafts that used to give access to the mines. they have long been abandoned, but it is just possible that the smugglers may have discovered and utilized them." "maybe they're hiding in a cave, somewhere, now," suggested ned, "and perhaps they have fenn a prisoner." "oh dear! isn't it dreadful!" exclaimed ruth, with a shudder. the other boys could not help wishing she was as anxious about them as she was over fenn. it made up, in a great measure, for all he was likely to suffer, bart thought. he looked closely at ruth. she seemed strangely excited, as though she feared some nameless terror. "this way!" called mr. hayward, leading the little party of rescuers through a short cut, and down a sloping bank to the shore of the lake. "here we are. now the boat, when i saw it, was right opposite that little point of land," and he motioned to indicate where he meant. at that instant bart saw something black bobbing about on the surface of the lake. "what's that?" he cried, pointing to it. "a boat!" exclaimed ruth. "there is the boat now, daddy!" "it's too small for a boat," replied mr. hayward. "it's a man! it's some one in the lake!" he added excitedly. "and he's about done for, too! i'll swim out and get him!" before any of the boys could offer, or indeed make any move, to go to the rescue, mr. hayward had thrown off the heaviest of his clothing and plunged in. with powerful strokes he made for the black object, which, as the others could see, was a person making feeble efforts to swim ashore. with anxious eyes the three chums and ruth watched the rescue. they saw mr. hayward reach the bobbing head, saw him place an arm about the exhausted swimmer, and then strike out for shore. a few minutes later the man was able to wade. in his arms he carried an almost inert bundle. "i got him, boys!" he called. "who?" asked ruth. "fenn masterson! i was just in the nick of time. he was going down for the final plunge," and with that he laid the nearly-unconscious form of fenn down on the sandy shore. chapter xxviii ruth tells her secret "quick! we must hurry him to a doctor!" exclaimed ruth, as she bent down over fenn. "will he die, daddy?" "i think not. he'll be all right in a little while. but we'll take him to our house. lucky the auto is not far away." "i'm--i'm all right," gasped fenn, faintly. "i was just tired out, that's all. i didn't swallow any water. there--there seemed to be some sort of a current setting against the shore, and--i couldn't make any headway." he sat up, looking rather woe-begone, soaking wet as he was, and with some of the red clay still clinging to his clothes. mr. hayward was hastily donning his outer garments over his wet things. "i'll have the auto around in a jiffy!" he exclaimed. "lucky it's summer, and you'll not take cold. just rest yourself, fenn, until i come back, and we'll have you all right again." "but how in the world did you ever get into the lake?" asked ruth, as her father hurried away. "i jumped in." "jumped in!" repeated bart. "how was that?" "now we mustn't ask him too many questions," interrupted ruth. "he's not able to answer." "oh yes i am," replied the lad who had been through rather strenuous times in the last few hours. thereupon he briefly related what had happened since his chums left him to go hunting, ending up with his unexpected plunge into the lake. in turn bart told how they had searched for him, and how, having met mr. hayward and his daughter, the hunt was brought to such a timely ending. "but what were those men taking out of the cave?" asked frank, when ruth had gone down the shore, along which a road ran, to see if her father was returning. "that's what we've got to discover," answered fenn. "i think there's a valuable secret back of it. we'll go--" but further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the auto--the same big touring car that had so nearly come to grief in darewell. the four boys got in, fenn was wrapped in a lap robe, to prevent getting chilled on the quick ride that was to follow, and the car was sent whizzing along an unfrequented road to mr. hayward's home, several miles away. the three chums wanted to ask fenn all sorts of questions about his experiences, but ruth, who constituted herself a sort of emergency nurse, forbade them. "you'll have time enough after he has had a rest," she said. "besides, he's just gotten over a fever, you say. do you want him to get another? it looks as though he was." and that was just what happened. when the auto reached mr. hayward's home fenn was found to be in considerable distress. his cheeks were hot and flushed and he was put to bed at once, though he insisted, with his usual disregard of trifles that concerned himself, that he was "all right." a physician was summoned, and prescribed quiet, and some soothing medicine. "he has had a severe shock," he said, "and this, on top of his former attack of fever, from which he had barely recovered, has caused a slight relapse. it is nothing dangerous, and, with careful nursing he will be all right in a few days." "then, i'm going to take care of him," declared ruth. "it will be a chance to pay back some of his, and his folks' kindness to me and my father. now mind, i don't want you boys to speak to fenn unless i give you permission," and she laughed as she shook her finger at the chums to impress this on them. fenn, under the influence of the medicine, soon fell into a deep sleep, which, the pretty nurse said, was the best thing in the world for him. "i guess we'd better go back to camp," proposed bart. "all we brought away from there are the guns, and some one might come along and steal the other stuff, which isn't ours." "that's so, those smugglers are still around i suppose," added ned. "we had better get back, i think." "you'll do nothing of the sort," declared mr. hayward good-naturedly. "you're going to be my guests, or i'll be very much offended. we've not got such a fine place as some, but you're welcome to what there is. if things were different--but there, i want you to stay." he seemed affected by something, and his manner was so queer that the boys could not help noticing it. ruth, too, appeared embarrassed, and, at first, bart and his chums thought it might be that she was not prepared for company, since, as her mother was dead, she had the whole care of the house, though there was a servant to help her. but her invitation, which she added to that of her father's, assured the boys that they would be very welcome. "you can't rough it so much as you could out in the woods," said ruth, "but i think you'll like it here. we have a motor boat, and you may wish to run it on the lake." "a motor boat!" exclaimed bart. "that settles it! we stay!" "but what about our camp stuff?" asked frank. "i'll send a man to gather it up and ship it back to duluth," said mr. hayward. "there's no need of you going back there at all. i'll be glad to have you stay. we're a little upset on account of--" he stopped suddenly, and glanced at his daughter, who did not appear to be listening to what he was saying. but she heard, nevertheless, as was shown by her next remark. "oh, dad means some of the servants have gone," quickly explained ruth. "you see we had too many," she went on. "i decided we could get along with one, for i want to help do the work. i must learn to be a housekeeper, you know," and she blushed a little. "we're not upset a bit, daddy. you see, i'll manage." it seemed as though something sad was worrying mr. hayward, but, he soon recovered his usual spirits, and got the boys to give him directions for shipping back their camp stuff. "now, i'll look after it," he said, as he prepared to leave the house, having changed his wet garments for dry ones. "i have some other matters to attend to, and i may not be back until late. i guess you can get along here. you can pretend you're camping out, and, if you get tired of that, ruth will show you where the motor boat is. only, don't upset," and, with that caution, he left them. the three chums decided they would try the boat at once, and, ruth, having ascertained that they knew how to run one, showed them where the launch was kept in a neat boat-house on the shore of lake superior. "don't be gone too long," she said. "you can't tell what will happen to fenn." "i guess he couldn't be in better hands," said frank, with a bow. "oh, thank you!" exclaimed ruth, with a pretty blush. "that'll do you," observed bart, nudging frank with his elbow. "i'll tell fenn when he gets well." ruth returned to her patient, after urging the three chums to be back in time for dinner. she found fenn awake, and with unnaturally bright eyes. "you must go to sleep," she told him. "i can't sleep." "why not?" "i'm thinking of something." "what about?" she asked with a little laugh. "about all the wonderful adventures you had?" "partly, and about that cave. it's the same one." "the same one? what do you mean?" "the same one you talked about when you were at our house. the mysterious cave, where the men were at work. i see it all now. it's the same cave! there is some secret about it! tell me what it is. don't you remember what you said? you wanted to find the cave, but couldn't. i have found it!" "oh!" exclaimed ruth. she drew back as if frightened. "oh!" she cried again. "can it be possible. it seems like a dream! can it be my cave?" "tell me about it," suggested fenn, for even his illness could not deter him from trying to solve the mystery. "i am going to tell you a secret," answered ruth. "it is something i have told no one. you know my father is--or, rather he was--quite wealthy. he owned considerable property, and was counted a millionaire. but lately, through some misfortune, he has lost nearly all his wealth. i suspect, though i do not know for sure, that some wicked men have cheated him out of it. but he does not know that i am aware of his loss. he has kept it a secret and he tries to keep up when he is with me, but i can see the strain he is under. he does not want me to suffer, dear daddy! but i don't mind. i don't care for money as long as i have him. "he thinks he can get his wealth back again, and so he has been making all sorts of sacrifices in order that i may continue to live here, in the same style we used to. but i found out about it. i discharged all the servants but one, to save money, and i am economizing in other ways." "but about the cave," insisted fenn. "it sounds almost like a dream," went on ruth. "one day, when i was walking through the woods around here, just before daddy and i took that automobile trip east, i was on a ledge of the cliff, about opposite where you were in the lake to-day. that particular ledge is not there now, as a landslide carried it away, but it was quite large, and easy to get to, when i was on it. i was after some peculiar flowers that grew there. "as i was gathering them i saw an opening in the cliff, and i could look right into a large cave. i was so surprised i did not know what to do, and, much more so, when i saw several men at work. they seemed to be taking stuff out--valuable stuff, for they were very careful with it. i must have made some noise, for one of the men came to where i was looking in. "he was very angry, and tried to grab me. i drew back, and nearly toppled off the ledge into the lake. then the man threatened me. he said if i ever told what i saw something dreadful would happen to me. "i was much frightened, and hurried away. i was going to tell my father of what i had seen, but the memory of the man's threat prevented me. the thing got on my mind so i was taken ill. then came the automobile trip and the accident. but i could not forget the cave. it seemed like a bad dream, and it followed me. i did not know i had mentioned it in my delirium at your house, until you told me. then i was frightened lest something happen to you, as well as to myself, and i begged you never to refer to it. but i could not forget it. all the while i kept wondering who those men were, and what they were taking out. i thought perhaps they might have found gold. of course it was foolish, and, sometimes i think it was all only a bad dream. only it is not a dream about poor daddy losing all his money." "and it isn't any dream about that cave!" exclaimed fenn, sitting up in bed. "it's real. there are men in it taking out something i think is valuable. they are doing it secretly, too. i don't know who it belongs to, but we'll soon find that out. by some curious chance i have discovered the same cave you looked into. i'll take you to it, and we'll see what those men are digging out. i'm going to get right up and go back there. i'm all right! we must go before the men take all the stuff! where are the boys? tell them to come here and help me dress." "no, no!" exclaimed ruth. "the doctor said you must be kept quiet!" "i'm going to go back to that cave!" declared fenn, and, getting out of bed, clad in a big bath robe, he began to hunt for his clothes, which, however were not in the room, having been taken to the laundry to be pressed. "mary! mary!" called ruth to the servant. "telephone for the doctor. tell him fenn is delirious!" chapter xxix a baffling search fenn sat down rather suddenly on hearing ruth make that announcement. he grew calm. "all right," he said, good-naturedly, "there's no use alarming you. i'm not delirious. i never felt better in my life. that sleep i had was fine. my fever is all gone. but, go ahead, if you want to. send for the doctor. i don't mind. i know what he'll say, and then i can go and hunt for that cave." "oh, fenn, are you sure you're all right?" asked ruth, much reassured by the cool manner in which the boy spoke. "sure. here, feel of my pulse. it's as slow as yours." ruth did so, and, having had some experience in cases of illness, she realized that fenn's fever had gone down. "you do seem better," she acknowledged. "however, i think it would be a good thing for the doctor to see you. i don't want you to run any chances." "all right," agreed fenn. the physician came again and said that, much to his surprise, fenn's illness was not as alarming as had at first appeared. "can't i go out?" asked the lad, not telling what for. "hum--ah--er--um--well, it's a little risky, but then--well, i guess you can," and, after much humming and hawing the medical man gave his consent and left, shaking his head over the perverseness of those who were always in a hurry. "now send up my clothes, please," begged fenn, when the doctor was safely away. "we'll solve the mystery of that cave in jig style." "hadn't we better wait for the other boys?" suggested ruth. "besides it's nearly dinner time, and you ought to eat something." "good idea," declared fenn, but, whether it was the one about eating, or waiting for the boys he did not say. frank, bart and ned were rather late getting back from the motor boat ride, but they had such a good time that no one blamed them. mr. hayward also returned, and it was quite a merry party that gathered about the table. that is all except mr. hayward. he seemed to be rather worried over something, and, at times, was rather distracted, his thoughts evidently being elsewhere. "what's worrying you, daddy?" asked ruth, after a while. "nothing, my dear. why?" "you're not eating at all." "i'm not very hungry. but come, we must go with fenn and see if we can't help him locate that cave. i don't imagine we shall find anything of any account. most likely the men were engaged in working an abandoned mine from which the prehistoric inhabitants took everything of value. perhaps the men were those chinese smugglers. i have telephoned word to the government authorities about them, and some detectives may arrive any minute." "those men were not smugglers," declared fenn. "they were taking something valuable from that mine, and they were so secretive about it that i'm sure they had no right to the stuff." "well, we'll soon see," declared mr. hayward. "where are we going to begin?" asked bart. "let's go up to that hole, where we found fenn's hat, and work down," suggested ned. "that's no good," declared the lad who had made the queer passage. "that chute only comes out on the ledge, where the main shaft begins. if we could get to the ledge we'd be all right." "i think we can get there without crawling or sliding down that dark, roped passage," said mr. hayward. "but i was going to suggest that we take the motor boat and cruise along near where we picked fenn up. if we found the opening in the cliff, from where he jumped, it would be easier. it is rather difficult to get to the ledge." "i think that's the best idea," remarked frank. "may i go with you, daddy?" asked ruth, a bright flush of excitement coming into her cheeks. "maybe i can find the--" she stopped suddenly. "i'm afraid not. there might be danger," said her father, not noticing her last remark. "i'm not afraid." "i wouldn't," said fenn quickly. "those men that i saw, didn't have any weapons, but they might be ugly customers, just the same." "i think you had better remain at home, my dear," decided the girl's father, and, somewhat against her will, she consented, after a whispered conference with fenn. the others were soon in the motor launch, and were cruising along the lake shore, as near as possible to where fenn had leaped into the water. narrowly they scanned the face of the cliff, for a sight of the opening from which fenn had jumped. they went up and down for half a mile, in either direction, but there was no sign of it. "are you sure you jumped out of a hole, stumpy?" asked bart. "sure. i remember catching just a glimpse of that point of land before i went under water." "then the opening into the cave ought to be somewhere near here," remarked mr. hayward, bringing the boat to a stop. once more they scanned the cliff, going as close to shore as they could. there appeared to be no break in the surface of the palisade. "i guess we'll have to try the ledge," announced mr. hayward. "we can go down that tree-trunk ladder, but it's more risky than this way." he was about to head the craft for a landing place, in order to begin the tramp through the woods, to a point whence the ledge could be reached, when the attention of all in the motorboat was attracted by something happening on shore. from the bushes dashed a chinaman, his pig-tail streaming in the wind. behind him came a man, with a revolver in his hand. "stop! you almond-eyed scare-crow!" he exclaimed. "i'm not going to hurt you!" but the chinaman only ran the faster. suddenly the man raised his revolver and fired in the air. the celestial stopped as though he had been shot. "i thought that would fetch you!" shouted the man, and, a moment later, he had the handcuffs on the representative of the flowery kingdom. "that's one of the smugglers!" cried fenn. "the police must be after them!" "what's the trouble?" asked mr. hayward, of the white man, as the boat neared shore. "chinese smugglers," was the short answer. "we got the whole crowd a while ago, just as they were landing a boat load in a secluded cove. but are you mr. hayward?" "i am." "i was told to look out for you. i understand you gave the information that led to the capture." "i did, but these boys here told me of it. they're to get whatever reward is coming." "oh, there's a reward all right. this fellow got away when we were bagging the rest. i had a hard chase after him, and i wanted to catch him, as he's one of the ring-leaders. but what are you doing here; on the lookout for some more of the chinks?" "no, we're searching for a queer cave where fenn, one of these boys here, was kept a prisoner. there have been some strange goings on in these parts, and i'd like to get at the bottom of them. i thought maybe the smugglers had a hand in it." at the mention of the cave, concerning which mr. hayward gave the government officer a few details, as fenn had related them to him, the chinese captive seemed suddenly interested. when mr. hayward told how they had so far, conducted a baffling search, for the entrance, the celestial exclaimed: "me show you." "what does he mean?" asked mr. hayward. "blessed if i know," answered the officer. "what's that, john?" "me show hole in glound. me know. clum that way," and he pointed a short distance up the lake. "do you suppose he knows where the entrance is?" asked mr. hayward. "shouldn't wonder," replied the detective. "those chinks know more than they'll tell. probably he knows the game is up, and he may think, if he plays into our hands, he'll get off easier." "that's lite!" exclaimed the chinese with a grin. "me turn state's evidence. me know. me show you." "i guess he's an old hand at the game," commented the officer. "probably it wouldn't be a bad plan to follow his advice. wait, i'll summon a couple of my men, and we'll go along. no telling what we'll run up against." he blew a shrill signal on a whistle he carried and soon two men emerged from the woods on the run. they did not appear surprised to see their chief with the prisoner, and at a word from him they got into the motor boat, the handcuffed celestial meekly following. "now, john, which way," asked the detective, who introduced himself as mr. harkness. "up by bluushes," replied the chinese, pointing to a clump which grew on the cliff. "hole behind bluushes, so no can see. smart trick. me know." "i believe he does," commented mr. harkness. "i'll unhandcuff him, and he can show us," and he removed the irons from the almond-eyed chap. the motor boat was put over to where the chinaman indicated. it came to a stop at the foot of a sheer cliff, right under the clump of bushes, which grew about thirty feet up from the surface of the water. "how in the world are we going to get up there without a ladder?" asked fenn. "we should have brought one along." "here ladder!" suddenly exclaimed the celestial, who, at a question from one of the officers gave his name as lem sing. "me get ladder." lem sing took hold of a stone that jutted out from the face of the cliff. he pulled on it, and it came out in his hand. to it was attached a strong cord, extending up somewhere inside the cliff, lem sing gave a vigorous yank, and something surprising happened. the clump of bushes vanished, and, in their place, was a round hole. "that's where i jumped from!" exclaimed fenn. but this was not all. down the cliff, out of the hole in the face of it, came tumbling a strong rope ladder, being fastened somewhere inside the hole. "that how up get!" exclaimed lem sing, with a grin. "now can up-go!" "sure we can 'up-go'!" exclaimed mr. harkness. "come on, boys," and he began to ascend the ladder, which swayed rather dangerously. chapter xxx the discovery--conclusion the others followed, one at a time, leaving one of the detectives in charge of lem sing. "now, fenn, lead the way," called mr. hayward. "i guess they've all gone," said fenn. "there don't seem to be any of the miners here, now." hardly had he spoken when, turning a corner in the shaft, the party came upon a curious scene. in a big chamber, the same one which fenn had viewed from the crack in the door of his small prison, there were half a score of men, working by the light of torches, digging stuff from the walls of the cave, and carrying it out in small boxes. "here they are!" shouted fenn. "this is the place, and they're at work!" "to the shaft!" shouted some one. "they're after us!" there was a hurrying and scurrying to escape, and, before the detectives or mr. hayward could make any move to capture the men, they had all disappeared. "come on!" cried mr. harkness. "show us the way to the shaft where the ladder is, fenn! maybe we can nab some of 'em." "it isn't worth while," declared mr. hayward. "these men were evidently afraid of being caught, but, from what i can see, they were not doing anything unlawful." "no," admitted mr. harkness. "we caught the last of them when we got lem sing. but what were these men digging?" "i'll take a look," answered robert hayward. suddenly he gave a cry, as he took some of the soft earth in his fingers. "say, this is almost as good as a silver mine!" exclaimed mr. hayward. "this stuff is in great demand! it's used by chemists, and they can't get enough of it." "lucky for the man who owns this land," commented mr. harkness. "but i don't see that it concerns us. guess i'd better be going." "why, man, this is my land!" suddenly exclaimed mr. hayward. "i own a big tract in here, but i believed it was worthless, and i was about to sell it very cheap. now--well, say, you couldn't buy it! my fortune is made again!" "boys," he went on, a little more soberly, "you don't know it, but i've been in quite a hole lately. the house where i live was about to be sold for a mortgage. but my daughter never knew. she--" "yes, she did," interrupted fenn. "she knew all about it, and she was trying to help you!" "she did? you don't mean it!" then fenn explained; telling of ruth's strange remarks while in a delirium at his house, her unexpected discovery of the cave, the man's threat, her long silence under fear of it, and her desire to aid her father to recover his wealth. "well, this gets me!" exclaimed mr. hayward. "ruth is a girl that's hard to beat." they went to the foot of the shaft, where fenn had come down, but there were no men to be seen. "let them go," suggested mr. hayward. "i've got all i want, and i must hurry and tell my daughter the news, bless her heart!" "it was all fenn's good luck," declared ruth, when the story had been told. "you ought to reward him, daddy." "reward him! well, i guess i will. and the other boys, too. nothing is too good for them." the chinese smugglers were punished for their attempt to break the united states immigration laws, and the celestials they tried to land were sent back to canada. lem sing had planned the trick so that by pulling on the rope the bushes dropped back out of sight, and the ladder came down. the miners used this device to send away the valuable clay, and it was by this queer hole that the men on the cliff so mysteriously appeared and disappeared when the boys were watching them from the deck of the _modoc_. the two chinamen and the white man, whom fenn had followed, were the advance party, looking to see if the coast was clear for a landing which had once been unintentionally frustrated by the boys, and, the visit of the one chinese to the camp was only to discover if the lads were detectives, which lem at first feared. while fenn was following the men, one had slipped behind him and gone to the camp, to see if it was deserted. it was this fellow who had dropped the button which gave frank, ned and bart their clue. "but what i can't understand," said fenn, "is why that man dirkfell should chase us the night of the fire, and pursue us in the steam yacht. do you know him, mr. hayward?" "dirkfell!" exclaimed the gentleman. "i should say i did, to my sorrow. it was through business dealings with him that i lost all my wealth. he held the mortgage on this house, and was about to buy that land, under which the cave is located. he has long borne a grudge against me--a grudge for which there is no excuse, for i never injured him. when he heard of my loss in the elevator fire i presume he could not help saying how glad he was. then, probably, when he saw you looking at him so sharply, fenn, he imagined you must be some agent of mine. he was evidently in fear of being found out in his secret mining operations under my land, and that was why he made such an effort to catch you, even following the _modoc_. i understand now, why he was so anxious to get possession of this land that i considered worthless. but i beat him at his own game, thanks to you and your chums." "and your daughter did her part," said fenn, "for she saw the cave first." "of course she did, god bless her." "i don't understand how the chinese smugglers and the miners both used the cave and the secret entrances," said frank. "i didn't until i had a talk with the detectives," said mr. hayward. "the chinese used the cave a long time before dirkfell was aware of what valuable stuff was in it. he and his gang worked in harmony with the celestials." "are they going to try to catch him?" asked fenn. "no, it's not worth while, since they have broken up the smuggling gang. i guess dirkfell will not show himself in these parts soon again." nor did he, or any of his gang. the boys spent a week with mr. hayward. then they started back to duluth, to join captain wiggs. they found the _modoc_ ready to sail, and they were warmly welcomed by the commander. "well, we've certainly had some strenuous happenings this trip," observed frank. "i don't think we'll have such lively times again." but he was mistaken, they did have plenty of adventures, and what some of them were i shall relate in another book, to be called "bart keene's hunting days." the end transcriber's notes: --text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). --punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected. --archaic and variable spelling has been preserved. --variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved. the iron boys on the ore boats or roughing it on the great lakes by james r. mears author of the iron boys in the mines, the iron boys as foremen, the iron boys in the steel mills, etc. illustrated philadelphia henry altemus company copyright, 1913, by howard e. altemus illustration: both boys were hurled forward contents chapter page i. to the inland seas 7 ii. the iron boys as cargo 20 iii. a surprised skipper 31 iv. the boys stand the test 42 v. trouble in the stoke hole 54 vi. the first step upward 63 vii. the iron boys on deck 70 viii. the crash in the fog 82 ix. a tragedy of the lakes 93 x. tossed up by the waves 104 xi. by pluck alone 113 xii. on the road to conneaut 122 xiii. in the grip of a giant shell 129 xiv. steve saves the captain 135 xv. at the wheel 151 xvi. through the rocky cut 163 xvii. the blow in the dark 172 xviii. visitors on the "richmond" 181 xix. in the grip of the waves 190 xx. an exciting rescue 202 xxi. a new hand at the wheel 210 xxii. leading a lively chase 219 xxiii. the wireless message 223 xxiv. conclusion 245 the iron boys on the ore boats chapter i to the inland seas "what are we to do?" "the first duty of an inspector is to inspect, i should say," answered steve rush, with a soft laugh, in answer to his companion's question. bob jarvis made a wry face. "you think you are very smart this morning, seeing that you have been complimented by the president of the mining company," grumbled jarvis. "i don't know whether i like this new job or not. we were making pretty good money in the mines and we were bosses at that. are we going to do any bossing when we get on the lakes?" "i think not. we shall be ordinary seamen. somebody else will do the bossing in this instance and we shall be the victims. mr. carrhart will tell us all about it in a minute. he is arranging for our work now. it will be a great change, and while we shall be working pretty hard we shall be adding to our store of knowledge, bob. we are lucky to possess so fully the confidence of our superiors. let's try to show that we are worthy of their confidence in our new places." "when do we start?" "i don't know. mr. carrhart is looking that matter up now." the lads were sitting in the private office of the president of the mining company, whither they had been summoned from their work at the mines. mr. carrhart, the president, stepped briskly into the office at that juncture. "well, lads, i have arranged for your transportation." "may i ask on what ship we are to sail, sir?" questioned steve. "the 'wanderer.' she is not one of our newest ships, but she is a staunch old vessel with about as many conveniences as are to be found on the newer and more modern boats. i sometimes think we are getting further away from what a ship should be--but then, i am not a sailor. i am not supposed to know anything about ships," laughed the president. "when do we sail?" "some time to-night. the 'wanderer' is not yet in. she passed the soo nearly forty hours ago and should dock some time this afternoon. she is coming up light this time, for a change." "how long does it take to load the ship with ore?" asked steve, his active mind already in search of knowledge along the line of their new calling. "eight hours or so." "that is quick time," nodded jarvis. "it strikes me as being a long time," remarked rush. "that is the point exactly," agreed mr. carrhart. "if you boys can find a way to shorten the loading time you will have served your purpose well. that is exactly why we are sending you out on this inspecting tour--that is, it is one of the reasons. we want to know where we can save money and time in the shipment of ores to the furnaces." "but, sir, we know nothing about this branch of the business," protested steve. "are there not others better qualified than ourselves?" "they think they are," answered the president reflectively. "we have tried them out. most of them are wedded to old methods. what we want is new methods as well as new blood. besides, you lads have expressed yourselves as being anxious to learn everything about the mining and steel business. i am taking you at your word. you are thoroughly posted on the mining end. i do not believe you could be much more so were you to spend three years more underground. the shipment of the ore is the next step. you have followed the ore down from the mines to the shipping point, here in duluth. now i am going to have you spend a few months on the great lakes." "that will be a fine experience, sir." "i think so." "is the purpose of our going to sea on the lakes known, or is it not to be known to any one outside of ourselves?" "certainly not. the mission might fail of its purposes were such to be the case. to all intents and appearances, you two boys will be plain, everyday sailors. you will find many hardships in the life of a great lakes sailor, but then, if i know you, i do not believe you will mind these very much," added mr. carrhart, with an indulgent smile. "we certainly shall not," answered rush, with emphasis. "the harder the work the better it seems to agree with me." "but not with me," retorted jarvis. the president laughed. "that doesn't agree with what the reports show. for industry and attention to duty you are a close second to your friend rush. i presume, rush, that we shall be losing you one of these days?" "what do you mean, sir?" "you will wish to go on to the mills, eh?" steve thought briefly. "yes, sir; that is our ambition." "i thought so. you may depend upon me to use my influence to further your ambition, though i shall very much dislike to lose you." "you are very kind, sir." "what i hoped you would do was to remain with the mining end of our business, where one of these days you would rise to the grade of general superintendent. perhaps after you have had your experiences at the other end of the line, you will decide to come back. if i am still president of the mining company you will be well taken care of, should you return." "thank you, sir; perhaps we shall be back sooner than you think." "and now for the subject at issue. here is a letter to the master of the 'wanderer,' captain simms, stating that you are to be taken on board his ship as seamen. he does not know that it is your first cruise, but i have an idea that he will learn the truth soon enough." there was a grim smile on the face of the president. "you will find captain simms a gruff old seadog. he is one of our oldest and most trustworthy masters, and after you come to know him i am sure you will like him very much. you have a fairly clear idea of what is expected of you by the company. you boys are both keen and resourceful and i expect a great deal from you. i know that you will see all there is to be seen, and no doubt will see some things that have been overlooked by older heads than yours." "have you any further directions to give before we leave you, sir?" inquired steve. "none whatever. i wish you success, which i am sure you will have. you need not go to the ore docks until this evening, unless you wish to, as you probably will have some things to do in town." after bidding the president good-bye, the boys took their leave. it seemed only a few weeks since steve rush had first entered the office of the president of the mining company looking for a job. the same office boy with whom he had had trouble at the start of his career was on guard at the door, but steve had grown away from him. steve, who with his companion, bob jarvis, will be recognized at once as one of the iron boys, was tall for his age and muscular. his manner of life had done much for his physical well-being, and he was not the same boy who had fought his way into the president's office, the account of which is set forth in "the iron boys in the mines." it was there that steve rush and bob jarvis first became friends, after they had met and fought a battle in a lonely drift in the cousin jack iron mine; it was there that both lads proved their heroism by saving the president and several other officials of the company, when the entire company was threatened with death from a burning bag of dynamite. it was in the cousin jack mine that steve and his newly found friend saw the need of and invented a new tram railroad system, by which the mining company was saved many thousands of dollars a year. again in "the iron boys as foremen," was told how the lads proved themselves by saving the powder magazine from blowing up while the mine was burning and the flames were creeping toward the deadly explosives. it will be recalled that it was mainly through the heroic efforts of the iron boys that the red rock mine was saved from almost total destruction, and that through their further efforts many lives were undoubtedly saved. from then on they continued to distinguish themselves, playing a conspicuous part in the great strike, in the end exposing and unmasking a wicked and unscrupulous man who was leading the miners on to commit deeds of violence. they were the same boys who were now starting out on a new career for the same company. in this instance the lads were to become sailors on the inland seas, known as the great lakes. the lads were taking up this new calling for the twofold purpose of learning still another branch of the great corporation's business and they fondly hoped their work would prove of importance to their employers. the office of the president was located in duluth, many miles from the iron range where the boys had been working for the last two years. their first act after leaving the offices was to make their way down to the water front to the ship canal, leading from the harbor out to lake superior. steve pointed out the äerial bridge to his companion. this was a car carried through the air suspended from a giant truss over the river, by which passengers were transferred across to superior on the other side. bob had never seen this wonder before and was deeply interested in it. to steve rush it was of particular interest, for he had acquired no slight knowledge of engineering during his experience in the mines up on the range. boats were moving in and out, huge lake freighters, ore boats and passenger ships, for the lake traffic was in full cry now. after strolling about for a time, steve took his companion home with him, and the rest of the afternoon was spent with steve's mother. supper finished, the lads decided that they would get down to the ore docks, as the ship would likely be in by that time. darkness had set in when they reached the docks. these docks, as those who have had the misfortune to have to make their way over them are aware, consist of tiers upon tiers of trestle. over the tops, high in the air, ore trains rumble in by day and by night, discharging their cargoes of red ore into huge hoppers, from which the ore is loaded into the boats, or great lakes ore carriers, as they are called. neither boy had ever been out on one of these trestles before, and the task looked to be rather formidable. "how are we going to do it?" demanded bob, surveying the great structure apprehensively. "i guess the only way will be to keep going until we get somewhere or fall off. i don't see the ship, but we shall see it when we get to the top of the trestle." both boys narrowly missed being run down by an ore train as it was shunted out on the trestle. the lads were in a dangerous place, but they did not feel at all disturbed about it. men were flitting about in the dim light of half a dozen electric globes distributed along the top of the trestle that loomed all of seventy-five feet above the water. "there's a ship down there," cried steve. "yes, and there's one on the other side," answered bob. "why, there are ships at all of the docks along here. are you sure we have hit the right dock?" "i am not sure of anything, except that we are likely to break our necks if we don't look sharp," answered rush, with a laugh. "we will ask the first man we meet where the 'wanderer' is. there comes some one now." rush hailed the man, a foreigner. the latter neither answered nor paid the slightest attention to the question put to him. "thank you," murmured rush. "mighty sociable lot of men up here," jeered bob. "but then i suppose they have to keep their minds on their work or fall off the trestle. i prefer to work underground. in the mines, there's no danger of falling down." ore was being shot down through the chutes into boats on each side of the great trestle. there was the roar as of a great cataract as the red dirt went hurtling down into the hold of the ships many feet below. "let's get down on one of the other levels, steve. then we'll drift over to the heading at the other end." "anybody'd think you were down in a mine. these aren't levels; they are tiers. you remind me of one of our miners who came down here to duluth. he went to a hotel, and in telling some of the boys about it, he said: 'we got in a swell cage with looking glasses all around the inside. the cage tender jerked us up to the sixteenth level. we went along this till we came to a crosscut; then they led us into a swell drift an' we struck the heading and sat down.' what do you think of that?" "that sounds like a lumber-jack more than it does a miner. he must have had a sky parlor. i wonder what hotel he got into." suddenly a great shouting was set up far below where the boys were standing, and further on toward the end of the trestle. "now what's the matter?" wondered steve. two long blasts of a steamship's whistle sounded. "there goes a ship. they're pulling out. i'll bet that's the 'wanderer,'" shouted bob. "if if is, she will pull out without us. no, it can't be the 'wanderer,' for she did not come in until after sundown and it is not possible that the ship could be loaded by this time. we'll simply have to find our way down through the trestle somewhere and locate our ship. if we knew which side the boat lay it would be easier for us. can you see which boat is leaving, bob?" "i think it is a boat from one of the other piers. i don't see anything going away near us." "suppose we move out toward the end. then we shall be able to see where we are and what we are doing." "and fall off?" "certainly not. we will walk along by the side of the track. there is a railing here. no danger at all of falling." the boys had their suit cases in their hands. they carried little baggage, having been informed that there was no room on board for trunks or luggage. besides, the lads needed few clothes outside of several suits of underwear. as they stepped along, walking side by side, steve pointed up at a bright star. "i wonder if we had better lay our course by that one----grab me, bob--i'm falling!" suddenly cried steve rush. jarvis stretched out a quick hand, fastening upon steve's collar. but the movement threw jarvis off his balance. he, too, toppled forward. rush had stepped into an open chute through which the red ore was roaring down into the hold of the ship seventy-five feet below them. steve struggled valiantly to prevent himself from going in, and bob tried his best to keep from going in after. "let go, bob; you'll go in, too!" the warning came too late. steve shot out of sight, leaving a fragment of his coat collar in the hand of his companion. then bob went in, head first. neither lad uttered a cry. they were not of the crying kind, and even had they uttered a shout their voices would have been drowned in the roar of the ore thundering into the hold of the big ship awaiting it down in the slip. chapter ii the iron boys as cargo through some fortunate twist of his body, jarvis righted himself while going through the big hopper into which the ore was shooting. he landed feet first at the bottom of the hopper. in the meantime steve rush, with a few seconds' start of his companion, had gone on down through the hopper. he hit the long wooden ore chutes that led down into the ship; he struck the chute with a heavy bump and then went on at a speed that took his breath away. steve was in a sitting posture. jarvis followed him at the same rate of speed, lying flat on his back. there was ore on all sides of them; in fact, they were riding on the swift-moving ore; all about them was darkness, and even had there been lights it is doubtful if the iron boys would have seen them, because of the speed at which they were traveling. steve's mind was working with its usual rapidity. had he known exactly what awaited them below he might have been able to plan with more certainty. he did reason, however, that they would probably have to pass through a small opening when they reached the bottom of the chute. in this he was wrong, though right across the chute where it entered the ship was a heavy iron brace dividing the chute in half, which was placed there to give the ship more rigidity. "lie flat!" shouted rush, with quick instinct, himself dropping on his back. he did not know whether bob were following him or not. jarvis was, but he was in no need of the admonition to lie flat. he was as flat as it was possible for him to be and he could not have straightened up had it been to save his life. jarvis was close enough, however, to hear the warning cry. he opened his mouth to answer, getting it full of red ore as a result. the ore got down in his throat, sending him into a paroxysm of choking, sneezing and growling that was lost in the noise about him. suddenly steve felt himself shooting through space. he realized, in that instant, that he had left the chute. a few seconds more and he struck heavily on his feet, bounded into the air, then plunged forward head first. the lad landed on his stomach, slipped down a conical pile of ore to the bottom, his head striking the side of the ship, doubling him up and leaving him stunned and unconscious. jarvis, who was not far behind him, went through very much the same experience, save that he turned a somersault when he left the chute, landing flat on his back on the pile of ore. his feet drove against the side of the ship with the force of a battering-ram, backed by the full weight of the lad's body. the effect was nearly the same as it had been in the case of rush. bob was stunned. he, too, lay still, after curling up against the vessel's side. "hey, what's that?" a voice had shouted as the boys disappeared through the hatches. "what's what?" "i thought i saw something besides ore go through the chute in number seven hatch." "you're seeing things!" "maybe i am." "close number seven hatch!" shouted the second mate, and the two deck hands, after the chute had been hoisted a little above the deck, slid the heavy hatch cover into place. all the ore that was needed had gone in through that hatch. the ship was nearly loaded. all that was now required was a few car-loads at the ends to trim the ship properly, after which she would be ready to sail. within the next ten minutes the rest of the ore had been shipped. with loud crashings, interspersed with hoarse shouts, harshly-uttered commands and an occasional toot of warning from the ship's whistle, the hatch-covers were put in place and the ship made ready for her journey down the great lakes. there followed a moment of inactivity; then came a blast of the whistle fully a minute in duration. it was the signal that the ship was about to back out of her slip, warning all other craft to keep clear. the propeller began to churn the waters of the harbor and the ore carrier, with its cargo of ten thousand tons of iron ore, backed slowly out into the stream. bob jarvis rolled over until he was practically standing on his head and shoulders. he toppled over on his back with a jolt that woke him up. the lad gave a kick and some one grunted. "hey, there, take your foot out of my stomach, whoever you are. is that you, bob?" "i--i don't know. hello, steve, that you?" "i guess it's both of us. ugh! my mouth is so full of ore that i can hard--hardly talk." "i've got a dark red taste in my own mouth. i've swallowed enough ore to make a steel rail. do you know where we are?" "we have fallen into the hold of a ship, and we are lucky that we are not dead." "maybe we are and don't know it," jeered jarvis, pulling himself up. he tried to get to his feet, but the ore slipped from under him, leaving him at the bottom against the side of the vessel again. "quit it!" shouted steve. "are you trying to bury me?" the latter was on his feet too, brushing the dirt from mouth, eyes, nose and ears. bob had sent a quantity of it sliding down the chute. "i can't help it. what's the matter with you? what do you think about this business?" "i don't think, i know. we are in a nice fix." "think so?" "i told you i didn't think," retorted steve in a tone of slight irritation. "glad you admit it." "we have been dumped into the hold of an ore vessel. i don't know whether or not there is any way to get out, and it is sure that the hatches will not be opened again until the vessel reaches her destination." "how long will that be?" "that depends upon where they are going. if they are bound for any of the lake erie ports i should imagine it would take a week or more." bob groaned. "i'm going to yell." "yell, if you can. i've too much ore in my mouth to make much of a noise." jarvis raised his voice in a shout. it did not seem to attract any attention. the lad shouted again and again. by this time the ship was trembling from stem to stern under the jar of the propeller that was beating the water at many hundred revolutions a minute. "nobody on this ship, i guess," muttered bob. "come, suggest something. you've always got something to say," urged jarvis. "i was about to say that you might as well save your breath. no one can hear us through the thick decks; in fact, i presume every one has turned in except those on watch forward, and the engine room crews at the rear end of the ship." "then i am going to lie down and go to sleep," declared jarvis. "don't do anything of the sort. the ore is likely to slide down and bury you. the less disturbance we make here the better it will be for us." "why didn't you think of that before we fell in? i suppose we are pretty deep down in the ship, aren't we?" "about as close to the bottom as we can get without drowning. we will keep as quiet as possible until we can plan some way of helping ourselves out of this predicament." bob grunted unintelligibly. for some time after this the iron boys leaned against the side of the ship, steve trying to plan some way out of the difficulty, bob growling inwardly over the hard luck that had befallen them. all at once the ship gave a quick, sudden lurch. jarvis lost his balance, falling over on his face. the ore came down in a deluge, covering him from head to feet before he had sufficient time to scramble out of the way. steve, bracing himself against the side of the ship, stooped over and helped his companion to his feet. "the old tub's going to tip over," gasped jarvis. "what's the matter with her?" "nothing is wrong. we have gotten out of the ship canal and into the open water of lake superior. there must be considerable sea. don't you hear the waves smashing against the sides of the ship?" "it isn't what i hear, but what i feel," answered bob faintly. "i feel queer. my head's spinning like a top. is yours?" "no; i can't say that it is. are you getting seasick?" "how do i know? i have never been seasick. how does it feel to be that way?" "i have heard that when people are seasick they don't care very much whether they live or die." "then--then--i wish i could die right here, if it would make me forget that awful goneness under my belt. ugh!" bob settled down against the side of the ship, moaning. "don't be a baby. get up and be a man." "i--i don't want to be a man. i--i'd rather be a wooden image, then i wouldn't care what happened. in case the ship went down i could float and----" bob's words were lost in an anguished moan. steve felt far from comfortable, but he set his teeth and made a resolve not to give up. "the sea is coming up, bob," announced rush after a long period of silence. "the--the sea----? it's my opinion that something else will be coming up soon if things don't stop moving around the way--the way they are doing now." steve laughed. "remember, bob, that we are not likely to get anything in our stomachs for some days. be careful." bob groaned. "if i ever get anything solid under my feet i'll take it out of you for that! that's a mean trick to play on a fellow when he's in the shape i'm in at this minute. how long do you suppose the noise outside will keep up?" "i don't know. probably all the way down superior." "and how far is that?" "let me see. i think mr. carrhart said the trip to the--the soo took thirty-six hours." "help!" muttered jarvis faintly. "now, i want you to brace up. come on, get up. if you don't i'll trounce you and make you forget your troubles." "yes, you can talk, but if you felt as badly as i do, you wouldn't spout that way. you; couldn't without--without----" "perhaps i _do_ feel badly, but i may have the will power to fight it out." steve reached down and pulled jarvis up beside him. the latter protested, but it did him no good, for he was apparently unable to offer any resistance. rush threw an arm about his companion and began talking about other subjects in order to divert bob's mind from his sufferings, for his was a real case of seasickness. in the meantime the sea seemed to be rising, though as a matter of fact there was little sea on. the short, sharp waves of the lake were moving the big, flat-bottomed steamer almost as roughly as they would have moved a little row boat, for the ore carriers are proverbial rollers. after a time jarvis began to feel easier, and the lads, lulled by the motion of the ship, grew sleepy. steve did not dare allow himself to go to sleep. he knew, full well, that such a thing would be dangerous. a lurch of the vessel might cover their heads with dirt and smother them to death before they were able to extricate themselves. then again, they might be buried too deeply to dig their way out at all. "lean up against me, bob. no need of our both standing here suffering for sleep. if you get too heavy i'll let you drop; then i guess you will wake up." bob leaned heavily on his companion. he would have done so in a moment more at any rate, for his eyelids seemed to weigh a ton. the lad was asleep almost instantly. after a time steve's eyelids also drooped. he could hold them up no longer. then he went to sleep, braced against the wall of the hull, his companion sleeping soundly in his arms. there could be but one result of this. they had been asleep but a few moments before, in a lurch of the ship, rush toppled over with jarvis on top of him, a ton or more of ore banked up about them. "get up! get up!" shouted steve, as soon as he was able to get his mouth free of the red ore. jarvis muttered, and steve was obliged to push his companion off by sheer force. the lad pinched and pounded himself, to awaken his dulled senses thoroughly, then he began to punch jarvis about with his clenched fists. "leggo! quit that, or i'll----" bob tried to strike steve, but instead, he measured his length on the ore pile. "i'm trying to get you awake, and if you don't want to be roughly handled you'd better pull yourself together," warned steve. "i'll get even with you for this one," growled jarvis. "what's the use in trying to keep awake?" "i've answered that question already. besides, i am going to try to find some way out of this hold." "you'll have a nice time doing it," growled jarvis. "i expect to have. but i know there must be some way. you keep close to me." "what are you going to do?" "feel my way along the side of the ship to see if i can get hold of a ladder or something that we can climb up." "i couldn't climb a step ladder without falling off, the way i feel now," objected jarvis. chapter iii a surprised skipper "no use!" groaned jarvis. "there isn't a ghost of a chance of our getting out of this until the old tub gets to some place or other. we're done for, this time. i wish i had stayed in the mines, where i belong, instead of following along after you. you can get into more trouble than any other fellow i ever knew." "never mind," laughed steve. "we're the iron boys. why shouldn't we travel as part of the iron ore cargo? the only thing that troubles me is that we have lost our ship. the 'wanderer' will sail to-night with two men short, and--but i care more about what mr. carrhart will think when he hears that we missed our boat. he will think us a couple of stupid boys, and he will be justified in so thinking." "i don't care what he thinks," growled bob. "what's bothering me now is my stomach, and the thought of how i'm going to get out of this." steve did not reply. an idea had occurred to him. gathering up a handful of soft ore he tossed it up over his head. some of the stuff showered down over bob jarvis, causing that young man to protest vigorously. a large portion of the stuff, however, did not come down. steve heard it drop on metal, roll a little way then stop. "quit that, now," protested jarvis. "what on earth are you trying to do? i can't appreciate a joke to-night." "this is not a joke," answered steve, gathering up another handful. "i am saving your life." "huh! pleasant way you have of doing the trick." several large chunks of ore were tossed up with the same result. they did not roll back into the hold. "i've got it, bob," exulted the iron boy. "you're wrong there. i got most of it myself." "listen! there is a platform or passageway running along this side of the ship above our heads. i suspected there must be something of the sort, for surely they have to get into the hold occasionally----" "above our heads, you say, eh?" "yes." "precious lot of good that will do us," grunted bob. "that depends upon whether or not you have any spunk left." "i guess i've got as much of that kind of stuff as you have. but i'm sick--i'm a sick man, steve rush!" "forget it, and then you'll be a brave man. at all events i'll tell you what i want you to do." "go ahead. i can't be any worse off than i am." "i am going to brace myself here against the side, and i want you to climb up to my shoulders. you ought not to have any difficulty in standing on them, when once you get up, for you will have the side of the hull to lean against." "can't do it; can't do it at all. why don't you do it yourself, instead of trying to make me do so when you know how sick i am?" "all right, if you want me to stand on your neck. i am offering you the easiest part of the plan." "i guess you won't stand on my neck! all right; i'll be the goat. what am i to do when i get up to where i can stand on _your_ neck?" "reach up for the platform. if you can get it, all you have to do is to pull yourself up. then, after you are once up you can, perhaps, reach over and give me a hand." "fine, fine!" jeered jarvis. "i wish i could talk as easily as you. why, i'd hire out to spout in a political campaign and----" "don't waste breath. i am ready." feeling his way in the darkness, bob finally got hold of his companion. it was not a difficult task for him, strong and athletic as he was, to climb to rush's shoulders. the difficulty was in staying on the shoulders after he once got there. bob didn't stay long. he toppled over backwards with a quick roll of the ship, landing high up on the ore pile, sliding down to the bottom, protesting and growling at the boy who had been the cause of his downfall. "do it yourself!" jarvis shouted after getting to his feet once more. "come on, now! you're all right." after a little urging jarvis succeeded in reaching his chum's shoulders once more. "now, be careful! i will try to hold you," said steve grasping his companion's ankles. "i've got hold of it. i've got the platform. it's only a little above my waist. leggo my legs." steve stepped out from under so suddenly that jarvis was left dangling in the air. the latter was too busy in trying to pull himself up, to enable him to make any retort. he scrambled to the passageway or platform, out of breath and dizzy. for a few moments bob lay flat on the support beneath him, groaning. "don't be a tenderfoot. what's the matter?" called steve. "everything's the matter. i'm all shot to pieces--i'm all falling apart inside----" "take your time. when you feel able give me a hand. is there any railing around the walk?" "yes; how did you know?" "i just guessed it, that's all." "all right; come on." bob leaned as far over as he could, without falling, and tried to reach the upraised hands of his companion. "can't make it. you've got to grow a little first," jarvis jeered. "we are going to make it. i'm going to back up on the ore and take a running jump. you stand by ready to catch me. better twist your legs about a railing post if there is such a thing handy." "i'm waiting for you. i hope you bump your nose until it bleeds." but steve rush did not bump his nose. he took a running jump, nearly losing his foothold in starting. by a lucky chance he landed half way up the side of the hold, right against bob's hands. bob grasped him about the waist. "now, pull me up," commanded rush. "i can't. i'm a sick man, i tell you." "fudge! just hang on and i will do the rest, but for goodness' sake don't let go and fall off." "why should i let go? you don't think i am so anxious to get down there as all that, do you?" steve climbed nimbly up the body of his companion until he found himself able to reach the rail with one hand. it was then but the work of a moment to pull himself up to the platform. "there, now we're all right," exclaimed rush triumphantly. "no, we're all wrong. i tell you i'm a sick man," protested jarvis. "if i hear you say that again, i am likely to throw you off. you make me sick." "hope i do. then you'll know how i feel." "this is better than i had hoped for," said steve, not heeding his friend's ill-natured remark. "they've got to get up early in the morning if they want to down the iron boys, i tell you," he chuckled. "it strikes me that we downed ourselves pretty thoroughly. well, are we going to get out of here to-night?" "we are going to make an effort to do so at once. keep hold of the rail and follow me. look out where you step. we don't want to take any more tumbles, or----" "oh, that's all right. i couldn't feel any worse if i fell off from a house or the top of a mine shaft." the two moved along cautiously, steve feeling his way with feet and hands. they were going toward the stern of the ship, though they were not aware of the fact. the passageway, constructed for the purpose of getting about on the inside of the hull, was narrow, built of metal, but without anything on it to bar their progress. they made their way around the stern, which, inside the ship, was next to the engine room. rush felt the throb of the engines near him and knew then that they were near the stern. they were separated from the engine room by a bulkhead and there was no opening into the engine compartment from the cargo-carrying part of the hull. "we shall have to work our way to the other end," steve said. the boys, with steve in the lead, continued their cautious creeping around the ship until finally they had reached the forward end. steve's hands came in contact with a door. "oh, pshaw, it's locked," he cried. "this is too bad." "kick it in," suggested bob, as the most practical way out of the difficulty. "i can't; it's locked." "and after all the trouble we have been put to!" "at least, bob, we have found a place where we shall be able to lie down and go to sleep in safety. that is surely worth all the trouble we have been put to, as you call it." "that's so. i hadn't thought of it in that light before. and i'm such a sick----" "you know what i told you." jarvis did not complete what he was saying. "good night." bob threw himself down on the hard floor and went to sleep. steve decided that this was the best thing they could do, so he, too, lay down and was sound asleep at once. neither lad awakened for hours. steve finally opened his eyes and yawned. a ray of light that had penetrated between a thin joint between a hatch cover and its frame, hit his left eye squarely. "wake up, bob," he cried. "go 'way! don't bother me. i'm having my beauty sleep." steve sprang up, shaking the other boy roughly. "it's daylight. come on; we've got to make a break to get out of here now, if we do it at all. i just heard some one tramping along the deck overhead." bob sat up rubbing his eyes sleepily. he would much have preferred to sleep longer, but he knew full well that, if he tried it, steve rush would fall upon him and make life miserable for him for the next few minutes. so jarvis got up, grumbling. "where does that door lead to?" he demanded, pointing to a door that steve had not yet seen. a faint light in the hold made it possible to see a short distance away. steve glanced at the door, then sprang toward it. "hurrah, it is unlocked!" "and don't forget that i found it. i can see like an owl, even if i am sick----" steve had jerked the door open, revealing a dark chamber. it proved to be the chain and anchor room where odds and ends of the ship were stored. after a little groping about in this chamber, they came upon a companion-way, up which they hurried. there they met with another door, but this one too was unlocked. rush opened it and stepped into the full light of day. for the moment the light blinded both. the boys stood there, rubbing their eyes, blinking, and breathing in the fresh air of the lake. "great!" exclaimed steve. the ship was rolling gently. they glanced about them, but there was no land in sight. everything was a sea of green, with white-capped combers tracing long lines of white against the deep green. "beautiful, isn't it, old chap?" "it might be, if there were some land in sight. where's everybody?" "i don't know, but we will find out." smoke was rolling from the funnel of the steamer, a ribbon of white steam from the exhaust pipe trailing off astern and losing itself in the black smoke. "this is a beautiful sight, even if we have lost our boat and gone to sea on an unknown craft," exclaimed rush, his eyes glistening. "pshaw!" grunted jarvis. "i guess it is about time we looked up some one and found out whether we are headed for the soo, or----" "or the north pole," added jarvis. "well, who are you?" demanded a gruff voice just behind the lads. the iron boys wheeled sharply. they found themselves facing a thick-set man, whose face, from exposure to wind and sunshine, was almost fiery red. he was surveying the boys from head to foot with a look of stern disapproval. steve and bob, with their torn and soiled clothes, _did_ present a most disreputable appearance. their hair was unkempt and full of red ore, while their linen, white and clean when they left home on the previous day, now also partook of the color of the iron ore in which they had wallowed for several hours. "may i ask who you are, sir?" questioned steve politely. "i am the captain of this ship, and, unless you answer my question pretty lively, i'll have you ironed and thrown into the hold." "we have just come from there, sir," interrupted bob. "that is quite evident from your appearance. you are stowaways, eh?" "no, sir; we got into the ship by accident, last night, and could not get out. we tried to attract attention, but were unable to do so." "what were you doing around the ship?" "we were to ship on the 'wanderer.' we lost our way on the docks and fell into the hold of this ship. we had a hard time getting out, but here we are, hoping to get to our ship as soon as we get to the next stop." it was the captain's turn to look astonished. chapter iv the boys stand the test "you want to get on board the 'wanderer,' eh?" "yes, sir." "what for?" "i have told you we were to ship on her--we were to work on board." "what were you to do on board?" "we were to work at whatever we were set at." "hm-m-m!" mused the red-faced skipper. "had your breakfast?" "no, sir; we have not had anything to eat since we ate luncheon yesterday noon." "hm-m-m-m. come with me." the captain led the way aft over the decks, along a walk at the side of the hatches, which the lads observed were snugly battened down. their conductor passed on by the engine house, clear to the stern of the vessel, where he entered the door of the deck-house. "jake!" he called sharply, poking his head into the room. a white-capped, white-aproned man suddenly made his appearance. "vat iss?" demanded the ship's cook. "give these boys some breakfast." jake surveyed the boys critically before replying. "_ja_," he said, turning back into his kitchen. "sit down at the table. when you have finished eating come forward and i will talk with you." "thank you. where shall we find you, sir?" asked rush. "if i'm not in the wheel house i'll be somewhere else." "i hope you won't take it into your head to meet us in the hold," interjected jarvis. "we have had hold enough to hold us for the rest of our lives." "don't get smart, young man," snapped the master, turning and leaving the room. "i wouldn't get funny with the captain, were i in your place," warned steve. "he evidently doesn't appreciate your jokes. smell that breakfast?" "you bet i do, but smelling won't help much." jake soon brought in a satisfying meal, to which the boys helped themselves liberally. the cook stood about watching them questioningly for a time, but, as the boys seemed too busy to open a conversation with him, he turned back to his galley with a deep grunt of disapproval. after having finished their meal the iron boys went out on deck, where for a time they stood leaning over the rail looking down into the foaming water slipping past the side of the ship. "we had better be going forward, bob," suggested steve. on the way forward they passed several deck hands at work. some were sweeping, others washing down the decks with a hose and a scrub brush. "that's going to be our job, i guess," grinned bob. "then, it's me for the mines, steve rush!" inquiring for the captain, they were told that he was in his cabin just under the pilot-house. they hurried there, and, knocking, were told to enter. the captain's quarters they found, to their surprise, to be luxurious. there was an observation room extending across the ship, with eight windows in front, looking out on the sea ahead of the ship. off from this observation room and to the rear of it were two handsome bedrooms, furnished with brass bedsteads and hung with silk draperies. bob looked around for a mat on which to wipe his feet. the captain, seated at a desk, turned around in his chair, surveying the boys critically. "you certainly are not very handsome to look at," was his comment, uttered in a gruff tone. "no, sir, not very," admitted steve, flushing as he looked down at his soiled clothes. "do we have to dress up on this ship?" demanded jarvis, with some heat. "you will have to do one thing--preserve a respectful attitude toward the commanding officer, and take orders without giving any back talk," replied the master, eyeing the boy sternly. "we aren't working on this ship." "perhaps you think you are not, but you are." "we are working, or going to work, on the 'wanderer,'" answered bob. "that is what i am saying. this is the 'wanderer.'" "the 'wanderer'?" exclaimed the lads. "yes." "then we did fall into luck, after all." "it looks that way, though you may change your minds before you've been aboard long. which of you is which?" "i am steve rush. this is bob jarvis." "glad to meet you, young gentlemen." they could not tell if the captain intended the words to be sarcastic, or whether he meant to be polite to them. they were rather inclined to the former opinion. "when do we go to work?" demanded jarvis. "now; at once. we don't have any lazybones on board this ship. are you men strong?" "yes, sir; i think so," replied steve, smiling. "can you shovel coal?" "we can shovel anything that we are able to lift." "very well, then; i'll put you in the stoke hole." "what kind of a hole is that?" questioned jarvis. "that is the place where the black-faced gang shovel the fuel under the boilers to make the ship move along." "oh, you mean the firemen?" "that's the scientific name. the common name is stoker. i'll send you down to the chief engineer, and he will give you a trick. you'll have to work like sixty, and if you don't you'll get off at the soo and foot it back home," continued the skipper gruffly. if steve were disappointed, or objected to the work that had been assigned to them, he made no comment. jarvis, however, made no secret of his displeasure. he grumbled under his breath, despite the warning looks directed at him by steve rush. captain simms pushed a button, and a few minutes later a short man, clean shaven, red of face like the captain, entered. "this is mr. major, the first mate. he is next in rank to the master. he will take you to the chief engineer for your assignment." "where do we sleep?" asked jarvis. "i had nearly forgotten that. you will show the boys their cabin, mr. major." the first mate nodded. his was a surly face, and the lads did not approve of him at first. however, upon gaining the deck the first mate spoke to them in a tone that was kind and helpful. "this is your first time out, isn't it, boys?" he asked. "yes, sir," replied steve. "well, you'll get along all right. do your work well and you will find that captain simms will take to you all right. you will have enough time off to rest and sleep, though the work is pretty steady on the lakes. you will find this is the case when we are in port, even more than when on the move. the loading and unloading keeps all hands at their stations. you have been in the mines, have you not?" "yes, sir." "we were foremen," interjected bob. the mate glanced at them in surprise. "i should think you would have stayed there, then. the pay is better and the hours more regular." "we wished to learn this end of the business," answered steve somewhat shortly. a few minutes later they were introduced to mr. macrae, the chief engineer, in whose department they were to begin their work on a lake steamer. the chief was a man of few words, these words always to the point. the mate explained to him the disposition captain simms wished made of the boys. "ever fire any?" demanded the chief. steve shook his head. "nothing more than a cook stove," spoke up jarvis, with a twinkle in his eyes, at which the chief's face threatened for a few seconds to relax into a smile. instead, it drew down harshly and his lips set more firmly together. "humph! nice couple to send me, and short-handed in the stoke hole, as it is. well, you'll fire all right, and you'll find it ain't no six-day stove-firing, either." "when do we go on?" asked rush. "i guess now is as good a time as any. where's your jumpers?" steve glanced at his companion quizzically. "did we leave our bags down in the hold, bob?" "i guess that's where we left them, sure enough." the mate sent a deck hand for the bags of the boys, after which they retired to the cabin set aside for them at the stern of the ship, and began preparing for their new work. they went on duty at nine o'clock, being told that they would take a six-hour trick, with a six-hour lay-off, after which they would report for duty again. the chief took the boys below, introduced them to the foreman of the fire room, then stood about while the foreman instructed them in their duties. these consisted in keeping the fire up under two boilers. they were obliged to throw the coal in many feet under the boiler, which required both skill and strength. when the fire doors were closed, the heat was still stifling, but when the doors were thrown open waves of white hot heat leaped out enveloping the stokers. the first time that jarvis essayed the feat he burned his eyebrows off by getting too close to the door and facing it full. bob sprang back with a growl that was half howl. as soon as he could get the door closed he ran to the water barrel, sticking his head clear under. the stoke-room gang howled uproariously. "a lubber, eh?" laughed one of the stokers. "you'll get all the hotness you want before you get out of this hole. how about you, pretty boy?" turning to address steve. "you look out for your own furnaces, old man; i'll attend to mine, and if i get stuck i'll ask somebody who knows." the gang laughed at this, and the fellow whom rush had answered so sharply, glared angrily at the tall, slender lad who was throwing coal into the white-hot mouth of the furnace. he was doing his work almost as methodically as though he was used to it, save that his aim was not quite as sure as in the case of the more experienced men. after having watched the boys at work for a few minutes, mr. macrae nodded to himself, then climbed up the ladders to the deck. he met the master soon after. "get those boys to work?" demanded captain simms. "yes." "any good?" "pretty likely pair. they have the strength of yearling bulls. where did they come from? i didn't see them when we came out." "no, they came out of the hold," grinned captain simms. "out of the hold?" "yes; funny thing about that. they boarded the ship with a load of ore." the captain went on to explain how the boys came to be on board. "doesn't it strike you as peculiar that they are sent down here in this way?" "not at all, mac. they want to learn the business. mr. carrhart sent me a line yesterday explaining the case. said they were a fine pair, and he wanted to see them get along." "then why put them in the hole?" "don't you think that will try them out as quickly as anything else?" said the captain. "i guess that's right," admitted the chief engineer. "and we need them just now, too. i'm glad they are on board, even if they are green hands. but young rush is going to be a winner, and no mistake." "what's the matter with the other one?" "nothing, except that he is a little fresh at times." "so i already have observed. you will take that out of him, mac." "i'll do that all right, or break his back in the trying. the stoke hole isn't any place for weaklings, as you and i know." "keep me posted. i want to know about them. if they make good maybe i'll change them, giving them a berth on deck." "we'd better give them a good try-out first," advised the chief. "certainly." in the meantime the subjects of this discussion were toiling with might and main far down below the water level. the ship seemed much steadier down there, and there was scarcely any roll perceptible. had it not been for the terrific heat the youngsters would not have minded the work so much. however, as the day drew on they began to feel the strain. the gong, announcing the change of watch, sounded loud and startling. they did not give it any heed, but kept right on shoveling. "well, are you fellows going to work right through the next trick?" asked the foreman. "have we finished?" questioned bob innocently. "until nine o'clock to-night." the lads put down their shovels with a sigh of relief. "is there such a thing as a bath room that we can use?" questioned rush. "what? do you fellows ever wash?" demanded the stoker who had had the words with steve earlier in the day. "that depends upon the company we have been in," answered the lad sharply. "did you tell me about the bath room, sir?" the foreman could not repress a grin. he pointed up the companion ladder. "you will find one on the deck above this. first door to the right." "thank you, sir." steve began climbing up the ladder, followed by bob and, a few rungs behind, by the surly stoker who had sought to have fun with the iron boys and had got the worst of the argument in each case. their first trick on board an ore carrier had been gotten through successfully, but it was about the hardest six hours the lads remembered ever having put in. they hurried out into the air before taking a bath. never had fresh air smelled so sweet as it did that day. the lads were black, the coating of soot on their faces being streaked with perspiration, and their clothes could have been no wetter had they just come up from the sea. "this is about the limit!" laughed bob jarvis. "here i am, without any eyebrows and half my beautiful locks burned away, all because you and i have ambitions to get on in the world. honestly, steve, is it worth it?" "you know it is, bob jarvis," answered the iron boy, gazing straight into the inflamed, soot-framed eyes of his companion. chapter v trouble in the stoke hole "i'll put you to sleep one of these fine days, young feller," greeted the stoker with whom steve had had the words. the boys had just turned to go to their bath, bob already having entered the deck house. "are you addressing me?" demanded steve coldly. "i'm talking to you." "forget it," said the lad, brushing past the soot-begrimed stoker and hurrying in to his bath. that was the beginning of it. surely steve had not tried to make an enemy of the man, but he had done so just the same, and an enemy whom he was to hear from ere many days had passed. meeting the first mate later in the day steve asked who the man was. "the name he gave on coming aboard was smith. i don't know anything about him. he has never sailed with us before, but i understand he knows his business--that is, he is a good stoker and has been on ships before. why do you ask?" "i wondered," answered steve evasively. "has he been bothering you?" "oh, no; i am not very much bothered," answered the lad, with a smile. the boys' cabin was on the starboard or right side of the ship. it was a pleasant little room, commanding a view out over the water. there were two berths in the cabin, a little desk and a couple of steamship pictures, the door of the cabin opening out to the deck. they felt very much at home in their new quarters, and after the first good sleep there they were ready for anything that might be required of them. the new stokers took their evening trick, each determined to hold up his end of the work with the rest of the men. and each did. not a man in that hot, fiery pit shoveled more coal on that watch, or shoveled it to better advantage than did the iron boys. the man smith shoveled at the furnace door next to steve rush, and the former lost no opportunity to hurl rough jokes and taunts at the iron boy. these were, in most instances, greeted with howls of delight by the other stokers, who seemed to take the keenest pleasure in seeing the two boys humiliated. steve took it all good-naturedly, but jarvis had to exercise great self-restraint to keep himself in check. he could hardly resist taking it out of the big bully. smith was tall and angular, his small, beady eyes setting more closely together than was good to look upon. in addition to this there was a slight slant to them, giving him almost the appearance of an oriental. steve shrewdly came to the conclusion that smith was a bad man, and furthermore, the boy decided in his own mind that the man had a past, for rush was a keen observer, few things passing him unobserved. all at once, smith's shovel slipped, showering steve with coal from head to foot. the sharp edges of the chunks of coal cut the boy's head and one cheek until the blood came. rush calmly brushed himself off, wiped the blood from his head and face amid the jeers of the stokers. then he turned to the grinning smith. "did you do that on purpose?" demanded the lad coolly. "i reckon it was an accident, kid. what would you do if it wasn't?" "i am not making any threats, but i hope it will not happen again." "he did it on purpose," volunteered bob. "never mind, bob; keep out of this. mr. smith had a dizzy spell and he couldn't see where he was tossing the coal. he isn't wholly responsible for what he is doing." smith uttered a growl. "you making sport of me?" he demanded, in a surly tone. "oh, no; i couldn't think of that, because i don't see anything funny about you. you are the most serious proposition i ever set eyes on." smith was not grinning now. his face had drawn down into harsh, menacing lines, his chin settling close to his chest, his eyes narrowing to mere slits. rush was watching him as the boy carelessly tossed a shovel of coal into the furnace. smith drew a long breath, grabbed up his shovel and began firing once more. the critical stage had been passed for the moment, but rush knew that sooner or later there would be a clash of some sort, and he knew, too, that when it did come the tough stokers would side with their own companion. nothing more of a serious nature occurred in that watch, though the boys kept on the lookout for trouble. it was in the early morning watch, however, when the ship's company was sleeping, all save those who were on watch at the time, that there came a renewal of the trouble--when the threatened disturbance came to a head. the boys had arranged that when the back of either was turned to the stoker the other should keep his eyes open. this arrangement they had carried out faithfully until four o'clock in the morning arrived. day was breaking, but the toilers down in the depths of the stoke hole could not see the coming of the day. they would not have noticed it had they been able to for the reasons that their minds were wholly absorbed with other matters. suddenly a second shower of coal rained over steve rush from the shovel of the man smith. steve turned sharply, fixing his eyes on jarvis. the latter nodded, meaning that smith had thrown the coal deliberately. "that's the time you did it on purpose, mister man," said steve in his usual calm voice. "well, supposing i did? what you going to do about it?" "this!" whack! the iron boy's fist smote the stoker a powerful blow in the face. smith toppled over against the hot boiler. rush saw at once that the fellow would be seriously burned. leaping forward he dragged the man away, dropping him on the coal heap. for the moment the stokers were so amazed at the exhibition of strength and skill on the part of steve rush that they could do no more than gape and gaze. the knocked-out stoker struggled to his feet. his eyes were bloodshot and his face distorted with passion. "i would suggest that we put off our dispute until we have nothing else to do," suggested steve. "you mustn't forget that we are on duty now, and the captain will discipline us if we have trouble here." with a bellow of rage, smith rushed his young antagonist. the blow that he got this time spun the fellow around, landing him on his face on the coal heap. the blow had reached him before his own fists were fairly up in position. steve knew that what was to be done must be done quickly. he loathed such fights, but he was among rough men. he had been among rough men ever since he had started out in the mines, and it was a case of fighting one's battles or going down with serious injuries, or perhaps worse. experience had told him that the quicker such affairs were ended the better for all concerned, and that the man who landed the first effective blow was more than likely to win the fight. steve usually did land first. bob was dancing about with glowing eyes. "please somebody hit _me_!" he begged. "i've got to get into the row. i've got to punch some of you wooden heads, or you'll never be satisfied; neither will i." "give them the coal. bury them!" roared a voice. smith leaped to his feet, and stretching out a hand threw open a furnace door. "i'll give the little fiend a toasting!" he howled. "no, no--the coal!" protested the others. the iron boys saw at once that matters had taken a more serious turn than they had looked for. the lads slowly backed up against a bulk head, their hands resting easily on their shovels. "i would suggest that you men had better get to work," said rush. "the steam will be going down in a minute or so, then you'll hear from the chief engineer." he had hoped to call them back to their duty, and thus avoid what was before them. "the coal, the coal!" with one accord the stokers thrust their shovels into the coal pile. ten shovels of hard coal were hurled at the iron boys with unerring aim and at almost projectile speed. "down!" shouted rush. both lads dropped to the floor of the fire room, the black chunks of coal passing harmlessly over their heads. "let 'em have another! throw low!" the stokers sent the next black volley straight out from their hips, which should have reached the mark had the boys adopted their former tactics. "dodge between!" commanded steve. jarvis obeyed instantly. in fact, in an emergency, he always looked to his companion for orders. when they saw that their second attempt had failed the stokers uttered a yell of rage. "bat them over the head with your shovels!" advised one. but rush had anticipated the suggestion. he was already leaping forward, his shovel cutting the air. he brought its flat side against the side of a stoker's head. the man toppled over, unconscious, and before the men could recover from their surprise two more of their number had fallen victims to the iron boy's shovel. bob had leaped into the fray by this time. he was swinging his own shovel, uttering a shout each time it came in contact with a head. "give ground, bob!" shouted rush. "i'll fix them. just watch out that they don't land on you, or they'll cut your head off with those sharp-edged things." "i'll hold them! come on, you black ruffians!" steve had sprung to one side of the fire room, where he began tugging at a wheel, from which he unrolled a long, dark object. one end of this he quickly connected to a four-inch pipe, turned a shut-off and sprang out into the middle of the fire room, carrying one end of the object in his hands. "quick! back off, bob!" bob did so. he saw at once what rush intended to do. "give it to them!" he shouted. chapter vi the first step upward the iron boy held a three-inch fire hose in his hands. a powerful stream leaped from the nozzle. the first man it hit was bowled over like a nine-pin, the man uttering a choking yell as he went down. another leaped at steve with upraised shovel. he shared the fate of his companion. one after another of them went down under the force of the stream from the fire hose. it was a kind of warfare that none of those tough customers had ever engaged in before. in a moment the men were yelling wildly, now and then bob jarvis's voice raised above the hubbub in a howl of joy. the heat in the fire room quickly turned the water to steam, a dense gray cloud hanging over all, obscuring everything in the room. it was with difficulty that the boy could make out the forms of his enemies. the men were making desperate efforts to break through and escape by the door, to which rush had slowly backed. as soon as a man sprang forward steve would let him have the full force of the stream from the hose squarely in the face. the stoker would be on his back instantly; then rush, would play the stream on the others, swinging the hose from side to side to keep the crew back. all the fight had been taken out of them, but the relentless stream still played on and over them with terrific force. "quit! we've got enough!" howled a voice. "i can't hear," answered steve, playing the hose from one end of the cringing line to the other. "i'm going to turn on the hot water soon, i don't believe this cold water will take all the dirt off." "skin them alive!" jeered jarvis. there came an interruption. the howls of the men, having reached the upper deck, had attracted the attention of the chief engineer. he had come running down the companion ladder, believing something serious had happened in the engine room. he was met by a cloud of steam. "what's going on here? have you blown out a tube?" he shouted. "no; i'm blowing off some rowdies, that's all. bob, shut off the water. the fun's all over." macrae grasped rush by the collar. "what does this mean? i'll discharge you at the end of the cruise." "i am sorry, sir; but those men attacked us and we had to fight them the best way we could. i thought a shower bath would do them more good than anything else, and cool them off quicker." "get to work there, you lazy lubbers. your steam is twenty pounds below the mark. i'll fine the lot of you. rush, come up to the deck, i want to talk with you." "i would suggest, sir, that you hear what the men have to say first." "how did this row start?" demanded the chief engineer. "he turned the hose on us, jest because he got a grouch on against us." "that's a lie!" exclaimed jarvis. mr. macrae motioned for steve to accompany him. the boy followed up to the deck where the chief led the way to his office and cabin. "now, i'll listen to the story. you have done a very serious thing; you have imperiled the safety of the ship and laid yourself liable to arrest and ironing. what have you to say?" "i acted purely in self defense. it was a case of defend yourself or get my head knocked off. i chose the former. i am sorry i was the cause of the steam going down, but we can put on more steam in a few minutes. i couldn't do the same for my head." "tell me exactly what occurred." rush did so, omitting the name of the stoker who had been the real cause of the uprising. mr. macrae listened with grave face until the story of the trouble had been told. "who started it?" "i would rather not say. i do not think he will start anything else very soon. he got about all that was coming to him." "i should say he did. however, this is a matter that will have to be laid before captain simms. go back to the fire room. i will accompany you and see that matters are straightened out." this the chief did. "the next man who starts any disturbance here will be put in irons!" said mr. macrae sternly. "this applies to every one of you. i shall lay the matter before the captain, as it is. he will act as he thinks best, but it is my opinion that the whole gang of you ought to be thrown off the ship at the first stop. you may be, at that." as soon as the captain rose, the chief told him the story of the battle in the stoke hole. "what, those two boys did up the whole crew of ten men down there?" exclaimed the master. "that's about what it amounted to." "most remarkable thing i ever heard of! but i will guarantee they never started the row." "no, i think not. both boys refuse to say who did." "good for them. i knew they had the right kind of stuff in them. pity we haven't got more like them." "what do you think best to do, sir?" captain simms reflected for a moment. "being convinced that the stokers are wholly to blame, i shall fine each of them a day's pay. you may so inform them." "and the two boys also?" "no. why should they be fined? you can't blame them for defending themselves. what time do the boys come off watch?" "nine o'clock." "tell them to report to me after they get fixed up." "very good, sir." captain simms went to his cabin, where he related to the first mate the story of the fire room row. both officers laughed heartily. "i would have given a month's wages to have seen that fuss," laughed the mate. "i guess the black-face gang has come to the conclusion that it has picked up a couple of tartars. evidently it isn't the first time those lads have been called upon to take care of themselves." before the stoke hole watch knocked off the captain made it his business to go below and look over the men. every man save the iron boys wore a sullen, revengeful look on his face. but this was not all. there was blood on several of the faces, and the men's clothes and hair still bore traces of the shower bath that steve rush had given them. neither lad paid any attention to the captain. they went on with their work as steadily as though he were not present, or nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. the captain turned away rather hastily and left the compartment. he felt that, if he remained a second longer, he would have to laugh. that would not do at all. and laugh he did, after he had gotten far enough away from the fire room to make wise such a proceeding. "i'll get even with you for that!" snarled smith in rush's ear, after the departure of the master. steve made no reply. "you'll wake up one of these fine mornings wetter than i was after you turned the hose on me, you whelp!" smith drove his elbow into the iron boy's side with considerable force. rush slowly faced him. "look here, you loafer, i'll knock you down if you do that again. or, if you prefer it, i'll give you another bath. you are trying to pick a fight with me. i am not looking for it, but if you insist i'll give you what you want. fight or stop!" smith glanced uneasily at the door leading from the fire room, muttered something unintelligible to the others and began shoveling coal into his furnace. shortly after that the watch ended. steve hurried through his bath. after putting on his clean clothes he called on the captain. the latter looked over the slim, well set-up young lad quizzically. "i didn't think it of you, rush." steve flushed painfully. "you wish to see me, sir?" "yes. be careful. in this instance let me say very frankly that i am glad you cleaned out that lot. the only trouble is that you ought to have thrown the whole gang overboard. we can't spare them, or i might have done it myself before this. i'm going to take you two boys off the stoke hole watch." "what do you wish us to do, sir?" "i will promote you to the deck." chapter vii the iron boys on deck the lads began their work above decks on the following day. it was a welcome relief to be out in the open air, with the wind blowing over them, the soft odors of the inland seas mingling with the faint perfume of the land drifting out from the unseen shores. the first work of the iron boys was to remove the hatches that the sun might penetrate the hold and dry out the ore, which had been put in very damp. ore in that condition did not handle easily, taking up time and costing considerably more to handle than when dry. steve pondered over this all during his first forenoon's work. here was something that ought to be remedied. his fertile brain was at a loss to solve the problem. he talked the matter over with jarvis after luncheon, that day, and asked his companion's opinion. "that's easy," answered bob promptly. "put a stove in." "where?" "in the ore pockets on the trestles." "that would be fine," grinned steve. "but you have given me an idea. i will think it over. there is a point that it will pay us both to think over very carefully. have you seen anything of our friends from below decks this morning?" "no; i guess they must be sleeping." "look out, bob. we haven't heard the last from smith. he is a vengeful fellow and he will try to get even with us. i hope he doesn't ship with us on the return trip." "i'll punch his head for him if he gets funny with me." "i don't like the man's looks at all. it is my opinion that he is a desperate character." "well, so are we, for that matter," replied jarvis with a mirthless grin. "i am beginning to think so myself, old chap. it seems almost impossible for us to keep out of trouble. i, for one, am going to stop it. next time any rough argument is started i'm going to run." jarvis laughed uproariously. "i think i see you doing it! why, you wouldn't run if you saw a herd of elephants charging you. no, sir--not steve rush!" at about four o'clock in the afternoon the boys were ordered to assist in replacing the hatches to make all snug for the night. the vessel was slipping down lake huron, now, at an eleven-knot gait. there was a gentle roll on the sea, but neither lad minded that. neither would suffer further from seasickness, they felt sure. the hatches having been made secure there was nothing more to be done for the rest of the afternoon. the lads were free to go where they pleased and do as they pleased. they repaired to their cabin, where they remained until supper time. they now ate with the ship's officers, the stokers and oilers having a mess-room by themselves. the officers' mess-room was a roomy apartment at the extreme stern of the ship, and the food served there was excellent. the boys did not remember ever to have had better. mr. major, the first mate, occupied the lower end of the long table, while the captain sat at the head. there was little conversation. the principal business was eating, sailors having a habit of shoveling in their food as fast as possible when it is placed before them. the result was that steve and bob, being accustomed to eat slowly and chew their food well, were not half through when the others rose from the table. "going to eat all night?" demanded the captain, with the suspicion of a smile on his face. "oh, no," laughed rush. "not quite so long as that, i hope." "how about you?" questioned the master, nodding at jarvis. "well," answered bob reflectively, "as nearly as i can figure it i am about amidships between soup and pie. if i don't fall through the centre hatch before i reach the pie end i'll be on deck about seven o'clock." the officers laughed heartily. "do we go on duty this evening, sir?" questioned rush. "certainly," replied the captain. "you take your regular tricks just the same. you two will take the forward watch at nine o'clock." they had never been on watch before, and did not know what their duties were to be. so, after finishing their supper, they hunted up mr. major and asked him to explain their duties to them. he told them that all they had to do would be to watch out for lights ahead and either side of the ship, ring the hours on the ship's bell just forward of the bridge, at the same time glancing back at their own ship's running lights to see if all were burning brightly. the mate told them how to report this, giving them some other suggestions at the same time. "this is fine," glowed bob. "we're going to walk the bridge at midnight, aren't we?" "rush will have the bridge watch," explained mr. major. "you will take the deck just forward of and under the bridge. it is not hard work in good weather, but it gets to be rather lonesome at times. i shall be on duty in the pilot-house during your trick. if you are in doubt at any time be sure to call out to me." both promised that they would. it was with keen anticipation that the lads made their way forward from their cabins a few minutes before nine o'clock. "second watch changed," called the watch who was on the point of retiring. "aye, aye," answered the officer in charge in the pilot-house. all was dark in there so the men could see ahead, the windows of the captain's cabin having the shades pulled tight so that not a single ray of light could shine out ahead to blind the eyes of the lookouts. "all clear ahead. steamer heading up the lake off the starboard bow." "all right," answered steve as he took his place at the rail of the bridge. "i guess she won't run into us." "watch for that steamer's red light off to starboard," warned a business-like voice from the blackness of the pilot-house. "i will," replied steve. "say, 'aye, aye, sir.'" "aye, aye, sir." "that's right. we observe all the forms on board these ships just the same as they do on the high seas." "what's all that talk about up there?" called bob jarvis, from his post in the bow on the deck below. "you are to keep watch of that fellow off to starboard," answered rush. "starboard? let's see--that's the left side, isn't it?" "no, the right." "oh, i guess that's right." "tell the watch below to 'tend to his business," warned the mate in the pilot-house. "forward watch, knock off talking," called steve. "don't get funny up there or i'll come up and straighten you out." "bob," called steve softly, "the officer will be down there in a moment if you don't stop your nonsense. this is business. keep your eyes on the water and call out whenever you see a light. i----" "ship, ho!" sang out jarvis suddenly, interrupting what steve was saying. "lower watch reports a ship, sir," sang out steve. "where away?" demanded the mate. "where away?" repeated steve. "oh, 'bout a mile off the right-hand side," answered the lower watch nonchalantly. "he means the vessel off to starboard, sir," rush informed the officer in charge. "has that wooden-head just discovered the ore carrier over there?" "i guess so, sir." "pshaw! you keep your eyes open." "he will be all right after he gets settled down to it, sir," said steve apologetically. "we're likely to be sent to the bottom before that time, if we wait for him to keep us out of trouble." the ship sailed on. now and then steve's keen eyes would sight a green or red or a white light, and under the instruction of the mate he quickly learned to determine the position of the boat from her lights, enabling him to say instantly which way the other ship was traveling. after a while the captain entered the pilot-house. "who's on the forward watch?" he demanded. "rush on the bridge, jarvis in the forward peak." "keep a sharp lookout. they are new men." "aye, aye, sir. rush is all right. he has eyes like an owl at night. trust him for not letting anything----" "red light dead ahead," called rush. "what do you make of her?" "nothing more, sir." "that's one of the wyckoff coal fleet," announced the captain, leaning from the pilot-house window. "she's headed for shoal island." "how in the name of all that's good does he know all that?" muttered the boy on the bridge. "i can't see a thing but the red light, and that means that her port beam is almost across our bow. i don't see anything else." "i suppose you are wondering how i know that, eh?" chuckled the captain, nodding to the lad pacing the bridge just below him. "well, yes, sir; i was wondering," admitted rush. "do you make out her white lights!" "no, sir." "that's where i have you. there is a bank of fog or mist settling over the lake. if you will raise your eyes a little to the right of the red light you will make out two faint blurs----" "i see them, sir." "those are her masthead lights. i know the set of the masts of the wyckoff boats, that's all. so will you, after you have been at sea long enough. it is all a matter of experience. i have been drilling up and down these lakes for the past thirty years. i ought to know a few things about them and the fellows who are navigating them. it's going to storm." "yes, sir," agreed the lad, but he did not see any signs of rain. the stars were bright overhead and the moon was shining brightly. "i see i have a few things to learn about the weather," he muttered. a few minutes later steve discovered that the moon and the stars had suddenly disappeared. the captain knew they would, for the wind had veered to the southeast and he had seen the fog bank settling down since the first moment he entered the pilot house. the rain started in shortly afterwards in a thin drizzle. "hey, up there, it's getting wet down here!" shouted bob. "hand me down an umbrella or something." "keep a sharp lookout, lads," warned the captain. "remember we've got a load of coal across our bows." "aye, aye, sir," answered steve. "i think i can see quite a way ahead of us." "that is a mistake. you can't see a ship's length ahead. keep your eyes open." "i will, sir." "where is your raincoat?" "i am afraid i have none. i never thought to bring one with me." "tell your friend jarvis to go to my cabin and ask the steward for two coats." steve did so, and a few minutes later the lads were well protected from the storm, which was now upon them in full force. the rain was coming down in blinding sheets by this time, beating into the faces of the iron boys. suddenly steve leaned over the edge of the bridge, shading his eyes with his hand. something that he thought he had observed in bob's position had attracted his attention. he gazed more keenly, then uttered a little gasp. jarvis was standing with his head down, facing away from the storm toward the stern of the ship. he looked very comfortable and contented. "bob!" steve's tone was stern. "bob!" "what do you want?" "turn around and be quick about it!" steve was speaking too low for the officers in the pilot-house to hear. "don't you know that the safety of the ship depends largely on our watchfulness at this minute, and----" "clang, clang, clang, clang, clang clang," interrupted the ship's clock in the pilot-house. steve grasped the cord attached to the clapper of the big bell in front of the bridge, giving it six steady jerks. "six bells, eleven o'clock. all lights are burning brightly, sir," rush called in the singsong voice of the sailor. "aye, aye," answered the deep voice of the mate from the darkness of the pilot-house. "reduce speed to one-half," commanded the captain, in a low voice. he usually gave his commands calmly, no matter how great the stress or emergency. "do you see anything of that coal carrier, rush?" "no, sir; she must be some distance away from us by this time." "she ought to be, but she isn't." "may i ask how you know that, sir?" "i get her smoke." "i don't make it out, sir." "neither do i, by sight, but i see it through my nose. i smell it." "well, doesn't that beat all!" muttered rush. he bent every energy toward piercing the black bank ahead. for the first time steve rush experienced a sense of uneasiness, and for the first time he realized what the perils of the sea meant. before, it had seemed to him that, unless a ship were laboring in a great storm, there could be little danger. once a minute the siren far back in the darkness, near the engine superstructure, would wail out a long, dismal blast which, a moment later, was answered by the ship out there somewhere ahead. the sound of the other boat's siren did not seem to steve rush to be getting any nearer, but to the experienced ears of captain simms quite the contrary was plain. "look steady, down there!" he warned in a sharp tone which told rush there was something that he did not know about was likely to happen. "look sharp!" he repeated to bob jarvis. "i'm looking. i'm----" steve rush's voice cut in quick and sharp, though there was little trace of excitement in it. "sheer off! ship dead ahead!" "hard a-port!" commanded the captain, at the same time sounding a long wailing blast on the siren. a deafening crash followed almost upon the command. chapter viii the crash in the fog steve was thrown flat on his face on the bridge, while bob jarvis doubled up, wedged into the forepeak of the boat on the deck below. "full speed astern!" roared the captain. the chains of the pilot-house telegraph rattled ominously and the propeller, nearly six hundred feet aft of the bridge, began whirling the other way at tremendous speed. "hey! what--what--what's happened?" shouted bob jarvis. "have we hit the shore?" "close the water-tight bulkheads!" commanded captain simms. the mate threw over the electric switch that gave the signal for the closing of all water-tight doors and bulkheads. "sound the general alarm!" gongs began to ring all over the ship. "order the engine and stoke room crews to stand by their tricks. i'll give them warning in time in case we have been badly hit." the mate obeyed quickly and without a single lost motion. by this time steve had leaped to his feet. ahead of him, it seemed almost on top of them, loomed a great black hull. lights shone dimly through the heavy pall of fog. he understood without having to be told what had happened. the "wanderer" had come into collision with another ship, presumably the same one whose lights the bridge watch had been watching off to starboard earlier in the evening. even in the excitement of the moment rush did not understand how this thing could have happened, if the other boat had held to the courses she was on when he last saw the other boat. "make ready the lifeboats!" commanded the captain of the "wanderer." then, raising his megaphone to his lips, the master bellowed through it: "are you hard hit?" "we have a hole punched in our side big enough for you to go through. stand by until we can find out whether we'll float or not." "aye, aye, we'll stand by. we want to find out how much of a smash _we_ have got. mr. major, get down there and examine the nose of our boat, and see how much of a bang we got. it's lucky for us that we hit the other craft in the position we did." the mate hurried down to where bob was still on watch. even after the crash had come, and he had picked himself up, jarvis stuck to his post, though he believed the ship to be sinking. and, besides, bob being right at the point of the collision, so close in fact that woodwork from the other boat showered over him in a perfect rain, got the full force of it. he was bruised and battered, he had lost his hat and he was greatly shaken up by the terrific impact. the "wanderer" had backed away to a safe distance, and the first mate was now making an examination of her wound. "we've broken our nose off," he called up to the bridge. "is she taking in any water?" "yes, sir; but i think the bulkhead will hold it so we won't go down." "good! ahoy, coal carrier there." "aye, aye," came the reply from the deck of the stranger. "who are you?" "the 'james macomber,' coal laden, bound for shoal island." "well, i must say you are doing some fine steering. what are you doing over here?" "we got out of position in the fog." "i should say you did. how are you?" "listing badly to port and settling by the stern." "better get your boats over while you have the time. shall we put over a boat?" "no; we can manage to get away if she goes." "i tell you, you're going down! get away while you've got the time." "all right; stand by." "can i do anything, sir?" asked steve. "yes; go aft and take two men with you. take the boat and cast off. lay well away from the ship and give me a hail, so i'll know where you are. stand by and, mind you, don't drift away and get lost. we'll never pick you up in this fog if you do. understand?" "yes, sir." "order jarvis up to the bridge." "bob, come up here. the captain orders you to take the bridge." steve ran down the ladder to the forward deck, then on down to the main deck, where all hands not otherwise engaged had assembled. they were leaning over the side peering into the darkness to see what had happened. steve was beset by questions. he explained briefly what had happened, repeating the captain's orders for himself and two men to man the life-boat and put off to pick up any one needing assistance. the second mate, then in charge of the deck, assigned two strong oarsmen to go with rush. the latter was to be in charge of the boat, so the captain had said, though steve was dubious about his ability to fill that office. of course he was interested in boats, but he was much more familiar with drifts and levels than he was with navigation of the lakes. "man the boat," ordered the second mate. the men took their places in the life-boat, which already had been hauled up ready for launching, the iron boy taking his place in the stern by the tiller. "are you ready?" "all ready." "cast off!" came the hoarse command from the second mate. steve instinctively grasped the gunwales of the life-boat as the craft dropped toward the water. he thought the boat had broken loose from the davits and was falling into the sea, so swift was its descent. yet he might have known from the sound of the groaning, creaking block and tackle that he and his companions were still safe. the life-boat struck the water with a loud splash, rocking perilously as steve, still gripping the sides, stood in a crouching position ready to jump should the boat tip over. then the little craft righted itself, though it lay rising and falling, rolling and tossing perilously on the long lake swell. rush had no idea that the water was so turbulent. "cast off!" the two oarsmen quickly unhooked the blocks from the rings at the extreme ends of the small boat. "are you ready?" they asked. "yes," said steve, though he was not certain whether he was ready or not. his mind worked with its usual quickness, however. he knew that he was expected to get off somewhere near the steamer "macomber." "give way!" he commanded. the sailors pushed the life-boat away from the side of the ship with their oars; then, placing the oars in the locks, fell to pulling steadily. steve turned the tiller the wrong way the first thing. the nose of the life boat hit the hull of the "wanderer" with such force as to throw the three men to the bottom of their boat. "lubbers!" bellowed the second mate from the deck of the ship. "what are you trying to do--run us down?" steve's face was burning with mortification. fortunately the night was too dark for any one to see this. "what's the matter with you?" demanded one of the oarsmen. "i turned the tiller the wrong way," answered rush truthfully. "pull away." the men growled as they fell to their oars once more. a few swift strokes and they were clear of their ship, rush this time handling his tiller with more skill than before. he tried the rudder cautiously and found that it responded readily to the least movement of the tiller. "now i'm all right," he muttered. "that is if i don't run something else down." swinging out in a wide circle the lad steered around the bow of the "wanderer," heading for the spot where he thought the distressed ship lay. "lifeboat there!" bellowed the captain through his megaphone. "aye, aye, sir." "where you heading?" "for the other ship." "no you're not. you're heading for the shore. pull to port a little more. there, that's better. look where you are going, now." the captain's tone was stern and commanding. steve leaned well forward, peering into the thick fog ahead. he could not make out the other ship as yet, though he could hear the shouting and the hoarsely uttered commands on her deck. it was a scene such as he had never imagined before, and it thrilled steve rush through and through. he felt that he was ready for deeds of valor if he should only get the chance to perform them. "steady, men," the boy warned. "we must be near the other ship now. i can hear their voices more plainly. it is curious we can't see their lights, though." "that's because of the fog, cap'n," volunteered one of the sailors at the oars. "they're----" "look out! we're under the stern of the ship now!" cried rush, throwing his tiller hard to port. the life boat hit the stern of the ship, far down under her counter, with a resounding crash. there followed the sound of breaking woodwork, as the gunwale of the lifeboat crashed in. the little craft shipped a heavy sea, drenching all hands. the sailors had dropped their oars and were preparing to jump. "sit down!" commanded the young skipper. "we're sinking!" "well, if we are, let's get in a better place to do it. we don't want to be floundering in the water under the stern of this sinking ship, do we? get to your oars and pull away!" the iron boy's voice had assumed a tone of command. the men, recognizing that he was not alarmed, bent themselves to their oars and pulled quickly from their present dangerous position. "have we anything in the boat with which to bail it out?" "no." "then we will sit in the water. i guess we can't be much wetter than we are." the men grumbled. "lay to, till i find out how badly we are injured." a brief examination of the side of the boat that had come in contact with the ship, showed that the gunwale had been smashed in, but the gash did not extend far enough down to place the little boat in great danger unless perhaps the sea rose high enough to wash over the side. as yet the lake was rolling lazily as is usually the case in a fog, for a breeze would quickly dispel the heaviest bank of fog and drive it away. "we're all right," decided the young coxswain. "pull around slowly." standing up in the stern of the life-boat with the tiller between his legs, steve hailed the disabled ship. "ahoy, there!" he called. "ahoy! who are you?" "life-boat from the 'wanderer.' if you want any help, sing out." "we'll need it all right." "are you sinking?" "we don't know. we're settling some." "got much water aboard?" "more'n we need to drink. come in closer, so we can get you if we need to." "how about your own boats?" "life boat smashed in the collision. ship's raft is safe. that'll carry most of us, perhaps all of us, if necessary." "better get it ready, then, in case anything happens," advised the lad, who was rapidly becoming a seasoned sailor. "pull in a little closer, boys, but look sharp because we may have to get out in a hurry, in case anything happens over there." the boat drifted slowly in toward the injured ship. this time the little craft had worked around abeam of the coaler, the latter's lights showing dimly in the thick fog. "keep your siren going to warn off other ships, why don't you?" shouted rush. the suggestion was a good one. it was instantly acted upon by the master of the "macomber." then the "wanderer" started her siren going, the hoarse voices of the whistles sounding dull and unreal through the fog. steve grinned appreciatively. "at least i have made one good suggestion," he muttered. "there will be no excuse for any other ship hereabouts running into us. that would be a nice mess." suddenly there arose a commotion on board the damaged coaler. the shouts grew louder. the crash of a steel hatch falling into place could be heard here and there. a loud splash sounded between the life-boat and the ship. "somebody's overboard!" cried steve. "pull in!" "life-boat there!" "aye, aye!" "we're sinking by the stern!" "pull in quick, lads!" commanded steve rush. chapter ix a tragedy of the lakes there followed a sound as though the wind were suddenly rising. the sound grew to the roar of a gale. rush did not understand the meaning of it. he did understand, however, that there was a man in the water near by, and that there was a human life to save. "where are you?" he called. "here! be quick!" rush had the fellow by the collar, in short order, and with some difficulty, hauled the man into the life-boat. "the ship's going down. get out of here!" cried the rescued sailor. "pull out, boys!" commanded rush, grasping the tiller and swinging the bow of his boat about. "there she goes!" shouted the sailor from the "macomber." the huge coaler's lights suddenly went out as the sea flooded her dynamo room. the hatches began blowing off with loud explosions as the water was forced up under them. "what is it?" cried steve. "the hatches." boom! "there goes the main bulkhead. it's all up with her now." yells and cries rent the air. men were leaping into the sea from the doomed ship, and though the men in the life-boat could not see, they could hear. "i can't stand this!" gritted the iron boy, jamming the tiller hard over. "what are you going to do?" demanded one of the sailors. "i'm going in there after those men," answered steve rush. "it's sure death!" "we'll go, just the same." "no we won't; we'll pull out of here like lightning." steve grabbed up a boat hook. "pull, i tell you; pull for all you two are worth, or i'll knock your heads off with this hook. now--go!" the oarsmen pulled. they were used to obeying orders, and they realized that the young coxswain of their craft was no weakling. he meant exactly what he had said. besides the men, after all, were as anxious to save those of their own calling, now struggling in the water, as steve could possibly be. the bow of the life-boat sent the water spurting into the air as the craft cut through the sea. another man was hauled aboard. "where's the rest of them?" demanded rush. "the water's full of them," gasped the rescued sailor. "ahoy, there, men--swim this way if you can. we're waiting for you. we'll----" with a sickening roar that steve rush would never forget as long as he lived, the "macomber" dived stern first under the surface of the water. her engine and boiler rooms, being at the stern, were flooded instantly. then came a report as if the universe had been suddenly rent in twain, an explosion that seemed to rend the air, the earth and the sea. "the ship's blowing up!" cried one of the men in the boat. he knew what the sound meant. steve did not, but he caught his breath sharply when he heard the words. "pull out!" instead, the life-boat was lifted out. it seemed to rise right up into the air, and when the iron boy at the helm sought to throw the rudder over there was not water to push against--only thin air. "hang on! we're going over!" shouted the boy. cries for help were heard on all sides of the life-boat now. but steve was powerless to aid the drowning ones. he was concerned with saving himself and those with him just at this time. the boat continued to go into the air; then, suddenly, it swung bottom side up, spilling its human freight into the lake. as the men of the life-boat fell into the water they were caught by the suction of the sinking ship and borne struggling about in the great eddy that swirled with the speed of a mill-race. steve fought valiantly to save himself by trying to swim out of the whirlpool, but even his great strength was not equal to the task. he was tossed to the centre of the eddy; then he felt himself being drawn downward by some invisible force. even then the iron boy did not lose his presence of mind. he caught and held his breath as the waters were closing over him. down and down shot the body of steve rush until he believed he must be near the bottom of lake huron. hours seemed to have been occupied in the descent, whereas it had been a matter of seconds only. he had made no resistance, calmly deciding to save his strength until action would count for something. steve had no thought of giving up. while his heart was filled with a great dread he was not excited, because he would not permit himself to be. "i'll die game, if i do die," he kept repeating to himself. at last the pull from beneath seemed to be lessening a little. there was not the same terrific force tugging at his feet. steve kicked out and the effort, he thought, raised him a little. thus encouraged he began kicking with all his strength, treading water and working his hands as fast as he could. there could be no doubt about it now. he was shooting toward the top at a good speed. suddenly he gave a great gasp as he felt the warm, damp air strike his face. his lungs were almost at the bursting point, and he felt that he could not have held his breath a second longer. steve lay over on the water, on his back, moving his hands listlessly to help keep him afloat. thus far he had had no thought of the ship to which he belonged. he was too much exhausted to do more than lie still, which he did, drawing in long, deep breaths of the fresh air. nothing had ever tasted so sweet to steve rush and he felt an overpowering desire to go to sleep. all at once he threw himself over on his stomach as the long, shrill blast of a steamer's whistle smote his ears. "it's the 'wanderer'!" he cried. "and they must be miles away." the ship was not very far away. it was the blanket of fog that had smothered the sound of the whistle and made it seem many miles off to port of him. rush raised his voice and shouted. his voice, of course, carried for a very short distance, for the same reason that had made the ship's whistle sound a long way off. again and again did he shout, but not a response did he get, save the long wail of the siren. not a light was to be seen anywhere, nor were there any signs of the other men who had been in the life-boat with him at the time it was lifted from the water and turned bottom side up. a great feeling of lonesomeness came over the iron boy when he realized that he was far out in the lake alone. he, of course, did not know how far they were from shore, but he believed it to be at least twenty miles. he reasoned that his ship would not sail away without him unless the captain were reasonably certain that steve had been drowned. the lad decided to swim in the direction from which the whistle sound had come. he had taken but a few strokes when he became entangled in a mass of wreckage. at first he thought he was going to drown before he could extricate himself, then he discovered that he could not if he tried. illustration: steve clung to the door. pieces of floating wood were all about him, some of them the lad recognized as part of a deck house. he fastened to a door that had been split in half, probably by the explosion, and stretching out full length upon it, lay still to rest. he was reasonably safe now, though, of course, unless he were rescued very soon he would become chilled and slip off into the sea. the wind began to stir up out of the southwest a little. steve took courage from this. "it will blow me toward the ship," he exclaimed. "that is, if the ship is where i think it is." he began paddling with might and main, steering with his feet as well as he could, shifting his weight this side and that from time to time as a swell threatened to upset him. the siren blew several long blasts. "that's queer," muttered steve. "she seems to be getting farther and farther away from me all the time." the reason for this was that rush was getting farther and farther away from the ship. he was propelling himself along in the wrong direction. as the fog began to race on ahead of him he took a look over the waters that now showed white ridges as far as the eye could penetrate. not a light could he see, save one bright light dead ahead of him. the light winked, went out, then suddenly appeared after a few seconds interval. "there's the ship!" he cried. "but, oh, how far off it seems to be." what steve could not understand, was that he did not see more than one light. both masthead lights, at least, should have shown. he decided that the side light, the red and the green, were too low down for him to catch a glance at over the tops of the rising waves. "i'll swim for it anyway," he decided, settling to his work with all the strength that was in him. it would be useless to waste breath in calling, because those on the ship could not hear him at that great distance. suddenly the wind abated, the fog rolled back over the lake, again enveloping the swimmer in a dense black mantle. the sea was still running with him, however, and would continue to do so for some time to come, thus helping him along. after a couple hours of paddling and drifting, during which rush made considerable headway, the lad realized that he was getting tired. further than this he was cold and chilled. the chills extended from his head to his feet. "this won't do," steve cried, confusedly. "if i get much colder i shall fall off my ship and drown." he began paddling with renewed vigor, but, work as he would he seemed unable to throw off the chill. he realized, too, that his body was getting numb. the iron boy fought desperately, but the more he fought the more drowsy did he become. his efforts grew less and less and his progress slower. steve wrapped both arms about the door and with cheek pressed close to it, resigned himself to what he thought would be a few minutes' rest. his heavy eyelids closed slowly; his breathing grew regular, but faint and his legs stretched out full length, being in the water up to his knees. steve had given way to the languor that was creeping over him. he was adrift and alone far out on the treacherous water of the great lake. chapter x tossed up by the waves the light that steve rush had seen, the winking, twinkling light came from the lighthouse on north point. the north point light was a revolving affair, which accounted for its vanishing and then reappearing at stated intervals. a few hours passed, though they were as seconds to the unconscious boy on the slender raft. at last he began to feel a glow spreading over his benumbed body. he moved a little, took a long breath then settled back into his former stupor. but the warmth continued to spread. steve felt a sense of being on fire. after a while he realized that the support under him was no longer moving, though he could hear the roar of the waves in his ears. he found himself dimly wondering why they did not break over him and drench him and chill him to the marrow. steve tried to raise one hand to his head, but the hand was pinioned so that he could not move it. his curiosity was becoming aroused. rush opened his eyes. before him and above him was a rocky, precipitous coast. then in a rush of understanding he realized that he was lying on the rocky shore of the lake coast. both hands were still under the door, which accounted for his inability to raise one of them a few minutes since. the sun was beating down hotly, warming the iron boy's blood, sending it more rapidly through his veins. with a cry of thankfulness steve rush got unsteadily to his feet. he was so stiff that he could hardly stand, though the numbness of a few hours since was fast passing away. "i have been carried to the shore and i'm saved!" he shouted. "this is the most wonderful thing that ever has happened to me. but i wonder where i am." it was early in the morning, that was certain. he judged the hour must be about seven o'clock. his watch had stopped at midnight. turning quickly the lad glanced out over the green waters of the lake that sparkled in the morning sunlight, a gentle ripple ruffling the surface. here and there a huge ore carrier was observed, working its way up or down the lake. far in the offing thin ribbons of gray smoke told where other vessels were steaming along. "i wonder if any of those ships is the 'wanderer'?" mused the iron boy. "and i wonder something else, too--i wonder whether i am going to get any breakfast or not. it is useless for me to try to signal a ship in here. they probably would not come in even if they saw me, as i imagine this is shoal water all around here. there must be some one living about here somewhere. i'll start on a little exploring tour for breakfast." steve turned away and began climbing up the rocks. this being his first passage over the lakes, he was not at all familiar with the coast and consequently had no idea where he was. in the meantime the ship had sailed away. the "wanderer" had lain to until the first gray dawn of the morning. a few of the men had been saved, including two of the sailors in the boat steve had set out in. all the others in that craft had been lost, as were the greater part of the crew of the lost steamer. the men rescued from the life-boat were of the opinion that steve rush had gone down with the others. bob jarvis said not a word. his face was pale and drawn. he went about his duties methodically, speaking to no one, but listening to every word that was said about the tragedy. after cutting wide circles for a full two hours the "wanderer" was put about on her interrupted course. "south south-west one half," announced the skipper in a low tone. the words meant to all who heard them, that he had abandoned the search--that the missing men had been given up for lost. their names would be added to the list of fifty thousand souls who have lost their lives on the great lakes during the last fifty years. captain simms' face was grave. he had taken a great liking to steve rush. he had lost, as he thought, three men, the first loss of life on a ship commanded by him since he had been in the service of the company as a sailing master. "mr. major, you will report the accident and the loss of the men as soon as we reach the st. clair river," he said. "aye, aye, sir." captain simms left the pilot-house, from which point of vantage he had been sweeping the waters of the lake with his glasses, and went down to his own cabin to turn in for a few hours' sleep. * * * * * in the meantime the object of the thoughts of nearly every man on board, steve rush, was climbing to the top of the rocks that lined the coast. reaching there he sought the highest point attainable and looked about him. "i am on an island!" he exclaimed. "from the looks of things i am the only person here. well, this _is_ cheerful, but it is much better than being out yonder," he added with a gesture toward the rippling waters of lake huron. rush decided to investigate his island the next thing he did. so he climbed down to the beach again and began following the coast line. as he went on he found traces indicating that some one had been there. there were chicken bones and the charred embers of a recent fire in one spot. steve came to the conclusion that fishermen had been on the island not long since. if this were so there were hopes that they or some of their kind would visit the place again. steve walked the greater part of the day. on one side of the island he saw a large bay. across a point of what he judged to be the mainland, he could see another bay and beyond that a cloud in the sky that looked like smoke. "there must be a large town or a city over yonder, but i don't know what it is. i do not even know whether i am in the united states or canada." all day long the lad tramped. when night came he was hungry, stiff and weak. had it not been for his splendid constitution and great endurance he would have given up long before that. just before dark he caught sight of a small sailboat slipping easily along, headed, he thought, for the larger bay on beyond the narrow point of land. steve hailed the craft. one man in the stern of the boat stood up and gazed shoreward through a glass. rush swung his arms and shouted that he wanted to be taken off the island. the man in the stern calmly closed his glasses and sat down, while the boat held steadily to her course. steve sat down, too. he was not so much discouraged as he was angry and disgusted. "why couldn't he have sailed somewhere so i wouldn't have seen him, instead of drifting by so tantalizingly near me?" he cried. there being no answer to the question, rush began looking about for a place to sleep. the best he could do was a spot just under a ledge of rock. the boy went down to the beach and brought back his life raft, the piece of a deck house door on which he had floated ashore. this he carried up to his bedroom under the ledge and stood it against the rocks. "that will do very well, in the absence of something better," he decided grinning as broadly as the drawn muscles of his face would permit him to do. then steve crawled under this rude shelter, drawing his coat as closely about him as possible and went sound asleep. steve was exhausted bodily and mentally, and it was not to be wondered at considering what he had gone through in the last twelve hours. besides this he had had nothing to eat since supper on the previous day. the following morning rush did not awaken until the sunlight warmed his bedroom. he crawled out, rubbed his eyes and looked about him. "well, if it isn't morning! but maybe it's the next morning; maybe i slept a day and a night." he had now lost all track of time. steve sat down to think matters over calmly. his position was a serious one and he understood that full well. "if i remain here another day i shall be unable to get away," he mused. "then i shall in all probability starve to death. that won't do. i don't propose to give up as long as i have any strength left in me, and i guess i have a little, even after what i have passed through." rush sat studying the narrow stretch of water separating him from the slender neck of land that he had observed the day before. "it can't be more than three miles across there. if i had had a good meal this morning i believe i could swim across to the other shore. that looks to me like the mainland. there is surely something on beyond there several miles away. i wonder if i dare try to swim it?" a little reflection convinced the lad that such an attempt could end but one way--he would drown before he reached the neck of land. his eyes roved about, after a while resting reflectively on the piece of deck-house door that had served his purpose so well after the sinking of the steamer. a look of new-found intelligence gradually grew in his eyes. "the very thing! hurrah!" he cried, springing up and dancing about, forgetful for the moment, that he needed all the strength he had left. "i swam on the door all night. surely i can stand a few hours more on it in the bright sunlight. why didn't i think of it before?" rush lost no time in acting upon the suggestion that had come to him. he grabbed up the cabin door and began staggering down the rocks with it. the door was heavy and he was weak. once he stumbled and fell. the door went clattering down over the rocks, steve bringing up in a heap some distance above it. "there, i'll bet it's broken. if it is i'm done for." but the door was not broken. it was tough enough to stand the hard usage to which it had been subjected. steve was after it with a shout as soon as he saw that it had not been split. after that he proceeded more carefully; within a few minutes he reached the beach with his burden. there the lad paused to think over the best way to go about his own rescue. he took off his coat slowly, folded and placed it on the door, then removing his suspenders he tied the coat fast to his raft. "there, i think that's all i had better take off or i shall get chilled again." after a final, sweeping glance at the sea, the lad shoved the raft, or rather one end of it, into the water and sat down on the beach to rest and gather courage for the great undertaking before him. "it beats all what a man will do for the sake of a meal," he grinned. "i might stay on this island all summer, and have a pretty good time, were it possible for me to get along without food. but, no; i've got to eat or i'll die. well, here goes." he shoved the door out into the water, pushing it along ahead of him until the water was up to his shoulders. rush then slid his body up on the raft and began paddling with his hands and kicking his feet, pushing himself along, heading around a curve of the island, for the extreme narrow point of land jutting out into the lake. chapter xi by pluck alone after half an hour of steady paddling, rush shoved his coat up for a pillow and lay flat on the slender raft to rest himself. he was breathing hard from his exertions; in fact, he was well nigh exhausted. but the iron boy's pluck was of the same quality as ever. nothing could weaken that, no matter how dire his predicament. "i could make better time swimming," he mused, raising his head a little and gazing longingly at the shore that now seemed farther off than before, "if i only dared. i don't mean that; i do dare, but it would not be prudent. i want to get to the mainland, and i think my present method is the best one to get me there. well, i must start the engines going again," decided the lad, grinning at his own humor. had any one chanced to be looking in his direction from the shore, that person probably would have thought he was gazing upon some strange creature from the deep, for steve was making the water foam all about him. his head and the end of the board were all that were visible above the surface. once he paddled so fast as to cause him to lose his balance. his raft turned turtle, landing rush on his back in the water. laughing almost gleefully at his own misfortune, the lad, in a few swift strokes, regained the door. "that was just so much effort wasted," he remarked. "i must remember that i am not running a race. i ought to be in pretty good trim for one, though; if i get through with this one i shall be fit for most any kind of an old race that i come across." for the rest of the journey steve made no attempt to spurt. he paddled along steadily, making slow but sure progress toward the goal on which his eyes were continually fixed. the sun was at its zenith when, slipping from the board, he found solid rock under his feet. steve tried to shout, but he was too worn to raise his voice. he clung to the door until it grounded with a grating sound on the beach. steve lay there for a few minutes. then he staggered to his feet, making his way up the beach a few feet from the water, there to throw himself on the ground exhausted. for nearly two hours he lay resting, having fallen into a deep sleep. then he awakened, sat up, resting his head in his hands for one last little wink, the wink that was to give the lad the strength and courage to take up his journey. "hello, what's the matter?" rush started up suddenly. he saw before him a boy somewhat younger than himself, dressed in rough clothes. the boy was carrying part of a fish net. "say, i'm glad to see you, and don't you forget it," exclaimed the iron boy, striding forward and grasping the hand of the other lad, much to the latter's astonishment. "who are you?" "i'm billy trimmer. i am a fisherman--me and my father." "do you live near here?" asked steve eagerly, with visions of a meal before him. "nope. we live over yonder," pointing to the cloud of smoke that was now much more plainly in evidence than before. "is that a town over there?" "yes." "what is the name of the town?" "alpena." "oh! and what do you call that little island over yonder?" "that one with the stones sticking up all over it like a porcupine's back?" "that describes it. some of them are sticking into me yet." "that's little gull island." "how far is it to alpena?" questioned rush. "'bout ten miles." steve uttered a long, low whistle. "what's the easiest way to get there?" "hoof it. ain't no other way." "that's too bad. is there a house anywhere near here where i could buy something to eat?" "nary a house. but you kin git all you want over to alpena." "thank you very much. i think i will be going." "say, where'd you come from?" "from the lake--out of the lake. i was drowned out there last night, or pretty nearly drowned. a steamer went down and i was carried under----" "a steamer?" "yes." "which one?" "the 'macomber,' i think it was. coal laden and----" "i must tell pa," and the fisher boy was off on the run. steve gazed after the lad reflectively. "i'd give a ten-dollar bill to anybody who would tell me how to run like that now. poor bob, i'll bet he's eating his big heart out for sorrow over my disappearance." steve paused. "they think i'm drowned, of course, they do, and i ought to be. it must have been intended that i should be, but somehow i didn't arrive on schedule time." chuckling to himself, the lad started on toward the city, ten miles away. he tried to make himself forget his weariness by whistling and singing. coming to some willow bushes, he cut the stiffest small branch he could find, from which he trimmed the nubs, then started on, whipping his legs with it. this seemed to start the circulation, and at the same time to take his mind from his own weariness. after a time the wet, swollen shoes began to chafe his heels, and it was not very long before the skin had been worn from both heels. then a blister suddenly bobbed up on the ball of the right foot. the boy took off his shoes and tried to doctor the sore spots, but there was nothing he could do save tear up his handkerchief and bind up the affected parts. "a boil on my nose, now, would just about complete my misfortune," rush grinned. "i'm going to carry my shoes in my hands." this did not work very well, for steve's feet were sore and the rocks over which he was walking made his feet more tender than ever, so he put the shoes on again. they had shrunk, of course, and the putting on was attended with a great deal of pain. steve rush did not even grunt. he drew them on almost roughly, stamped in them and jumped up and down. "there, i guess that'll fix that blister, anyway. i wish i could jump on the sore spots on my heels and cure them as easily." he started, and kept on without another stop until three o'clock in the afternoon, when rush halted for a drink of water at a little creek that crossed his trail. it was a sore and very much dilapidated young man who crawled into the town just before supper time that evening. realizing that his appearance was far from prepossessing, rush sought the back streets, following them in so far as possible, keeping an eye out for a hotel that he thought might be respectable. he found such a place after some searching about, during which the policemen he passed had eyed him suspiciously. steve entered the place, which proved to be a farmers' hotel, and asked if he could get supper and lodging there. the man behind the desk eyed the lad narrowly. "you've made a mistake young fellow," said the clerk. "how so?" inquired steve innocently. "you should go out and see the hostler. maybe he'll put you up. we don't keep your kind in here." several bystanders laughed at the boy's expense. but rush never flinched. "oh, i beg your pardon, sir; i thought i was in the stable. this must be where you herd the other lower animals. i see they are all here." before any one could recover his wits sufficiently to make a retort, steve had stepped out of the place. next the boy tried a restaurant. he got no further than the desk when he was held up by the proprietor. "hold on; where are you going?" "i wish something to eat," answered the boy politely. "you're in the wrong place, and----" "no, i am not. that's what the fellow told me the last place i called at. they can't both be the wrong place, so this must be the right one." the proprietor of the place stepped out from behind his desk, laying a firm hand on steve rush's shoulder. a peculiar glint shot into the eyes of the iron boy, but he stood still. "we can't serve you here. this is a gentlemen's restaurant. perhaps you will find something that will suit you down on the south side." "i have money, sir. i am willing to pay for what i get. i have been in a shipwreck and am not very presentable----" "i can't help it; you'll have to get out." "see here, sir, i shall not get out until i have had my supper. i have had nothing to eat in twenty-four hours, and i'm hungry." "go on, go on; don't raise any disturbance here." steve walked over and laid a five-dollar bill on the desk. "there's your money in advance. give me the change after i have finished my supper----" "i said i couldn't serve you here. i----" "oh, yes you can, and what's more you're going to." "i'll call a policeman and have you put out." "look here, mister man, unless i get some supper here quickly, i'll have the law on you. you are keeping a public house, and you have no right to turn me out." steve didn't know whether he were right or not, but he took a long chance. he saw at once that he had made a good point, so he pressed it further. "i am going to sit down at that table over there, and i shall expect to be served at once." the proprietor's hand fell from the iron boy's shoulder as the latter strode to the nearest table and seated himself. a waiter stepped up to him asking what he would have, at the same time thrusting a bill of fare on the table in front of the boy. "i think i'll take about five dollars' worth of ham and eggs," answered rush without a trace of a smile on his face. chapter xii on the road to conneaut steve had no further difficulty at the restaurant, though he noticed that the proprietor of the place was watching him and scowling at him all through the meal. "i usually get what i go after," thought the boy. "in this case it is food." after paying his bill he hunted up a clothing store, where he fitted himself out with a new suit, shirt, necktie, straw hat and a suit of underwear, for everything that steve had on was practically ruined. this, with a pair of shoes purchased at another store, made him look quite like his usual self. arrayed in his new suit steve had no difficulty in getting into one of the best hotels in the city. he left a call for six o'clock that he might catch a train to detroit, where he hoped to catch the "wanderer." he nearly missed the train next morning, because of his longing for a cat nap. arriving at detroit he visited a newspaper office and inquired if the ship had been sighted. "passed down during the night," was the discouraging answer. "where for?" questioned the boy, as the ships usually got their destination orders when they passed detroit. "conneaut. see here, you are not one of the men who were on that ship are you?" questioned the newspaper man. "thank you, sir. i will be going. can you tell me what time i can get a train for conneaut?" answered rush, avoiding the question. steve felt that he would be called upon to make a report of his share in the disaster, and his good judgment told him that he should not make a first statement to any one outside the company. the next train out did not leave until late in the afternoon, so rush employed the time in going about the city. he visited all the places of interest, getting his luncheon at a large hotel on the hill. the hotel was named after a famous indian chief, but the prices asked for the luncheon made steve gasp. "my wages would keep me here about three days," he muttered. later the lad boarded a train and hurried toward his destination. he did not know whether he should find his ship in port or not, reasoning that the craft would have to proceed under reduced speed the rest of the way down on account of the smashed-in bow. shortly after dark the boy arrived. inquiring his way to the ore docks, he hurried down toward the inlet. this was a narrow canal, leading up into the lower part of the town for some distance. ships were packed in the inlet, side to side, like sardines in a box. most of them were lying with anchor lights up; others with their running lights still lighted, showing that they had just arrived in port. on either side of the inlet loomed the dark trestles, from some of which the rattle and roar of unloading machinery arose in a deafening chorus. "this is about all a man's life is worth to face," decided steve, as he dodged a swiftly moving car that towered above him loaded with ore. then he narrowly missed being ground under a traveling crane that was in operation unloading a ship. "can you tell me, sir, if the 'wanderer' has arrived?" asked the boy of a yard policeman who approached the lad to find out what he was doing there. "she's outside the harbor now. i heard her whistling for a tug a few minutes ago. but we don't allow strangers in the yards here. it is too dangerous." "i belong on the 'wanderer,'" explained steve. "oh, you do, eh?" "yes." "then what are you doing here?" "waiting for her." "when did you leave her?" questioned the officer suspiciously. "a couple of days ago, somewhere about the middle of lake huron. i went down when the wreck occurred." the story of the wreck and the sinking of the coaler had by this time been spread all over the country. the policeman gazed at the boy with wondering eyes. "you don't say?" "yes, sir." "tell me about it." "i am sorry, but i think i had better say nothing until i have talked with captain simms. do you know where the 'wanderer' is going to berth?" "see that pig there, just shifting her position?" referring to a whaleback, the latter style of boats being known to sailors on the lakes as "pigs," because of their pig-like bow. "yes." "the ship you want is coming into that berth. see, there's a crowd of reporters waiting around there now to interview the captain." "i guess i'll keep out of their sight, then," laughed the lad. steve paced up and down the dock keeping well in the shadow, watching the channel with eager eyes. he could hardly wait until the ship got in, so anxious was he to relieve the anxiety of his companion, bob jarvis. "there she comes," announced the policeman. steve shaded his eyes and gazed intently. yes, sure enough it was the "wanderer." he could make out her broken nose now and the peculiar set of her sticks. the lad had never before realized the size of the ship. she seemed to loom up in the air higher than any of the buildings on the opposite side of the inlet. all was dark on board her, no light save her running lights showing; but up there in the darkened pilot-house steve knew, keen, cautious eyes were watching out for the safety of the boat as well as for the safety of others in the harbor. rush heard the rasping sound of the bridge telegraph as the signal was given to reverse. the spring-rope came whirling through the air and a moment later the big hawser struck the water with a splash, being quickly drawn to the dock by the dock hands. all this was very interesting to steve rush, for it will be remembered that he had never watched the docking of an ore boat before. the figure of mr. major, the first mate, was faintly outlined at the rail, looking down and giving orders to the men on the dock in a sharp, business-like tone. "put out the ladder!" the mate commanded. the ladder came over the side, and was let down carefully until it rested on the dock. before any of those on board had an opportunity to go over the side steve had sprung to the ladder, up which he ran nimbly, swinging over the rail to the deck of the "wanderer." "see here, young fellow, what do you want?" demanded the mate. then he leaned forward, gazing keenly at the newcomer. "wha--what----" "steve!" screamed jarvis, rushing across the ship and throwing his arms about young rush. jarvis was so overcome with emotion that for the moment he found himself unable to utter another sound. "rush!" cried the mate, fairly pulling the boy away from his companion and wringing both steve's hands. "why, why, we thought you went down with the coaler." "i did. i guess i'm too tough to die. i surely have had plenty of opportunity to do so." "wait till i get through docking the ship, and then tell me all about it." "i must see the captain first. is he up in the house?" "no; i think he just went down to his cabin." "were any of our men lost?" "two of them. jarvis here leaped overboard and saved four men from the other ship, who were drowning while trying to swim out to us." "good boy, bob," said steve as he patted his companion affectionately. "you must tell me all about it when we get to our cabin, by and by. i have had some experiences, too, some that will make you laugh." others of the crew were pressing forward to shake the hand of the plucky iron boy, for both boys were popular with all hands save the stoke-hole crew. "i must see the captain, bob. i'll be back in a few minutes." steve hurried up to the forward deck, rapped on the door and was bidden to enter. captain simms looked, then blinked rapidly as his eyes fixed themselves on the boy framed in the cabin doorway. "hello, is that you, rush?" "yes, sir." "i thought there wasn't water enough in huron to drown your kind." "no, sir." "come in and sit down. i want to talk to you." chapter xiii in the grip of a giant shell before captain simms would permit the lad to leave him, he had to hear the story of steve's experiences. the story was frequently interrupted by grunts of approval on the part of the skipper. the latter was not an emotional man, as was evidenced by his greeting of rush after the boy had, as it were, risen from the lake. rush's story finished, he asked the captain to tell him all about what had occurred after the accident. "it isn't what did occur so much as what's going to happen," answered the master gloomily. "what do you mean, sir?" "i shall lose my license." "what, and you not to blame? impossible." "yes, but how am i going to prove that i am blameless?" "the authorities will believe what you say, will they not?" "they have just as good a right to believe the captain of the other boat. he will say it was my fault, and perhaps i shall say it was his fault, and there you are. both of us will lose out in the end. the other skipper was saved and i am glad of it. it seems too bad that, after all these years on the lakes without a blemish on my record, i have to be knocked out at this time. my wife and little girl will be heart-broken." "perhaps it will not be so bad as you think, sir. of course, we are all deeply grieved over the loss of life. that cannot now be helped. it is our business to find out where the blame is and fix it there, no matter whom it hits. i know one whom i am pretty sure it will not hit." captain simms squinted at the lad. "who?" "yourself." "rush, you're a fine fellow. i like you," announced the skipper, with something approaching enthusiasm in his voice as he stepped forward and grasped the hands of his deck man in a grip of iron. steve thought he had a pretty good grip himself, but his own was as nothing compared with that of the captain of the "wanderer." "i reported the accident from detroit, and was ordered to proceed to destination if able. i haven't heard anything from headquarters yet. i shall hear something in the morning, as soon as our arrival here is reported." "when do we unload?" "they begin in about an hour." "then i must get into some old clothes and get ready for work." "you need not go on duty to-night, unless you wish to." "i prefer it. you see, i have been idle for a couple of days and i shall get out of practice," replied the boy, with a good-natured laugh. "idle! humph! after swimming half way across lake huron, being drowned into the bargain, walking almost across the state of michigan, going without food for twenty-four hours, not to speak of a few other little things--then to talk about being idle. go back and tell the cook to set up the best on the ship. after you have had a good meal you may go to work, if you wish. i suppose you'll not be satisfied unless you do. go on with you. tell the first mate i want to see him." an hour later found steve in his working clothes. the cranes for unloading were just being moved into place when he reached the deck. these were huge affairs, each provided with a giant scoop that gulped a little mouthful of some fifty tons of ore every time its iron jaws were opened. there was a rattle and a bang as the hatch covers were being ripped off and cast to the far side of the deck; men on the trestles were shouting, whistles were blowing in the harbor, gasoline launches conveying ship's officers to and from the other side of the inlet, were exhausting with vicious explosions. steve thought he had never seen such confusion before, yet he knew full well that there was in reality no confusion about it. everything was being worked out in keeping with a perfectly arranged system. "rush, you get down in the hold and take charge of the unloading," ordered the mate. steve hurried below. the hold was dimly lighted by an electric light at either end. he did not know exactly what he was expected to do. the great scoop dived down, swallowed a mouthful of ore and was out with it like some huge monster, almost before rush realized what was going on. "whew! that's going some!" he exclaimed. "there comes the thing again. hello, up there!" cried the boy, with hands to mouth. "hadn't you better take out some from the other end so as to unload the boat evenly?" "yes, that's what we've got you down there for, to watch things," shouted a voice from the deck. "you're all right. keep it up!" "i don't know whether i am, or not," muttered the boy making his way over the ore to the stern of the hold. "this strikes me as being a dangerous sort of spot." he watched the huge steel lips of the scoop as it felt about like the lips of a horse gathering the oats from its manger, quickly grabbing up its fifty tons of ore then leaping for the trestle some fifty feet above, where it dropped its burden into cars waiting to transfer the ore to the furnaces. load after load was scooped up. the rattle and the bang of the unloader was deafening. it made the iron boy's ears ache. "according to the speed at which we are unloading, now, we should be finished in about four hours," he said. "this is the most wonderful mechanism i ever saw!" there came a lull, during which the ship was moved further astern, in order that the unloader might pick up ore from the forward part of the hold. by the time this had been done, and the huge crane shifted to its new position, nearly an hour had been lost. the boy pondered over this for some time. it seemed to him like an unnecessary loss of time. "why, so long as they have one crane at an unloading point, should they not have more?" he reflected. "this is worth looking into." he thought he saw where a great improvement could be made, and he decided to think it over when he had more time. perhaps he could suggest something to the officials that would be of use to them after all. steve and his companion, while working as ordinary seamen, were drawing the same fine salaries that they had received in the mines. therefore the boys felt it was their duty to earn the money being paid to them by doing something worth while. they were getting three times as much as was paid to the other men doing similar work. as rush was thinking all these things over the lights in the hold suddenly went out, leaving the place in absolute darkness. "lights out!" he shouted. a rush of air fanned his cheek. he raised a hand to brush away some object that seemed to be hovering over him. it was as if invisible hands were groping in the dark, feeling for the iron boy's face to caress it. steve instinctively crouched down as low as he could on the ore. there was little of it beneath him, the greater part having been removed by the giant shell of the unloader. suddenly with a groan and many creakings the object whose presence he had dimly felt now closed over him. "the unloader!" cried steve. "it's caught me! it's caught me!" chapter xiv steve saves the captain fortunately for steve rush the load scooped up by the unloader, chanced to be a light one, only a few tons being in the scoop itself. that left him head room so that he was not crushed against the upper side of the giant shell. still, his quarters were cramped and the sensation was, if anything, more trying than had been that when he found himself alone in the waters of lake huron. "i'm done for this time, i guess. hello, there! stop the machine! i'm caught!" he shouted. in the groaning and creaking of the great crane his cries for help were unheard. steve felt himself being borne swiftly through the air. up, up swung the great shell, swaying dizzily from side to side after it left the deck of the ship. as it passed out of the hold steve uttered a shout louder than the others. he was not frightened, but, as was quite natural under the circumstances, he wanted to get out of his unpleasant predicament. bob jarvis, who was at the rail, heard the cry. he divined the truth instantly. springing to an open hatch he leaned over, bellowing out the name of his companion into the hold. there was no response. bob did not believe there would be. "stop it! stop it!" he shouted. it is doubtful if the crane man heard, and if he did he failed to understand, for the big shell kept on mounting to the top of the trestle. "what's the matter!" demanded the mate. "you're enough to raise the dead." jarvis did not stop to answer. he sprang for the side of the ship, leaped over the rail, and, catching the sides of the ladder, shot down to the pier without touching a single rung of the ladder. the instant his feet touched the pier the lad darted off to the trestle. a cleat ladder extended up the side of the trestle to the top. bob ran up it like a real sailor and rushed over the ties to the place where the train was being loaded for the furnaces. in the meantime, steve rush had been hoisted to the top. he knew what was coming. the lad braced his feet and shoulders against opposite sides of the scoop, hoping thereby to hold himself in place. he had forgotten that the shell would open up at the proper moment in order to discharge its load--would open up so wide that not even a fragment of anything would be left within it. suddenly the great jaws of the shell opened with a crash and a bang. there followed the roar of rushing iron ore as it dropped into the waiting ore car on the track. rush dropped like a stone. he landed in the railroad car, half buried under the ore, dazed and bleeding from the sharp pieces of ore that had hit him on the head during his descent. "hey there, stop it, stop it!" shouted jarvis, running toward the spot as the crane was swinging the scoop off toward the ship for another load. "stop what?" demanded the foreman of loading. "you've dumped a man from that scoop! which car was it?" the foreman laughed easily. "i guess you must be crazy." "which car is it, i say? answer me quick. he may be killed, or----" "that's the car right there, the last one filled and----" but bob was bounding toward the place with desperate haste. "steve! steve!" "ye-yes, i'm it again," answered a muffled voice, dragging himself from the ore, shaking the dirt from him. "look out for the shell! it'll be on you again before you know it," warned jarvis. he had heard the creaking and groaning of the machinery, sounds, which told him the big scoop was on its way upward again with still another load of the red ore. rush staggered to the edge of the car. "jump!" commanded bob. steve did so, not knowing where he would land, but with perfect confidence in his companion's presence of mind. no sooner had the lad cleared the car than a load of ore was dumped on the spot where he had been standing but a few seconds before. bob grunted as the heavy body of steve rush landed full in his arms, causing the former to sit down heavily on the trestle with the dirt from the dumping shell, showering over them. "good for you, bob! you saved my life. let's get out of this place." "i am perfectly agreeable to that. how do we get down?" "there are two ways. one is to jump off and the other is to go down the ladder. the latter is the way i'm going. perhaps you prefer the other, judging from your past performances as the horsemen would say. you have made some pretty good records as it is." bob made for the ladder, followed by steve. when the two boys climbed over the rail to the deck of the ship, the first mate gazed at them in astonishment. "i thought you were down in the hold, rush." "so i was," laughed the boy. "what did you come out for?" "i couldn't help myself. i went up in the scoop, which caught me when the lights went out down there. something is the matter with your electric arrangements down there, i guess." mr. major gasped. "you don't mean you went up in that thing?" "i guess i do." "he got dumped on an ore car," added jarvis by way of explanation. "and he lives to tell the tale." "get down in the hold. the ship is listing to port. they are taking too much out on that side. jarvis, you run back and tell the engineer to have his electrician find out what is the matter with the lights in the hold. look out for yourself, rush, this time. i am beginning to think you are a hoodoo." "and i am beginning to hold the same opinion," answered the iron boy. "if you keep on we won't be able to get a sailor to ship on the same craft with you." "i don't know that i should blame them much for feeling that way. trouble is tied to my heels, but somehow i manage to get through on a pinch," laughed the boy, hurrying for the stairway that led down into the entrance to the ore hold. the ship was fully unloaded at midnight. all hands were dirty, dusty and tired when they started aft to wash up and get ready for bed. "where's that soogy barrel?" yelled one of the deck hands, meaning the receptacle holding hot water, well soaped, from which the men filled their basins for washing. "it's down in the engine room being steamed out. there's another one down in the lazaret. we'll fetch it up and have it filled before those lubbers down below get the old one ready." "we'll help," cried steve. "come along, fellows. i guess the whole crew ought to be able to get the barrel up without calling any of the dock hands to help us." they started away, laughing, and the barrel was hoisted from the lazaret or storeroom near the stern of the vessel, quickly filled from a hot-water pipe and a good portion of the contents distributed among the men. in another hour all hands save the anchor watch were sound asleep, the captain with the stoicism of the sailor, sleeping as soundly as the rest, notwithstanding the fact that he might wake up in the morning shorn of his command, a disgraced man. instead, on the following morning the "wanderer's" master received a message from duluth ordering him to report immediately for a hearing. he was instructed to bring with him certain men of his crew. there was no time to be lost. without waiting for breakfast the captain ordered mr. major, the first mate, the iron boys and the wheelman on duty at the time of the collision to make ready to accompany him to duluth at once. the message further stated that the ship would be taken to duluth for survey and repairs by a master who was then on the way to conneaut. the party got away within a few minutes, the second mate being left in charge, and thirty minutes later they were on their way to the north. the examination took place that evening immediately after the arrival of the officers and men from the "wanderer." the examination was to be a strictly company examination, but the government officers in charge of the licensing of pilots on the great lakes were on hand to listen to the testimony and to decide whether further investigations were necessary. mr. carrhart and the superintendent of the line of steamships belonging to the company were present to take an active part in the investigation. captain simms was the first witness called. he gave his version of the accident, explaining the position of the ship, the course it was sailing on at the time and all other facts in his possession. the fact that he was on duty at the time, and that the ship was sailing under reduced speed, was a point in his favor, though it did not by any means serve to relieve him of the responsibility for the accident. "who was on the bridge at the time of the accident?" asked mr. carrhart. "stephen rush. jarvis was on watch in the forepeak." "we will hear rush next," said mr. carrhart. the iron boy was called in from an adjoining room, where the witnesses had been placed. when a witness finished his testimony he was permitted to sit down in the room and listen to the proceedings. this captain simms did. steve took his place in the witness chair. "you were on the bridge watch on the night that the 'wanderer' collided with the 'macomber,' were you not?" asked the superintendent, who was conducting the examination. "yes, sir." "state what occurred." steve, in a clear, firm voice that carried conviction with it, related briefly and tersely all that he knew of the collision. he omitted his experience in drifting ashore, but a few questions from mr. carrhart served to draw out that most interesting recital. all hands listened attentively. each face, as the narrative proceeded, expressed silent admiration for the wonderful pluck and endurance of the iron boy. but his hearers did not feel surprised at what he had accomplished after they had studied the firm set of the lips, the square-cut jaw and the clear, steady eyes. "you had sighted the side lights of the 'macomber' some time before the collision, had you not?" "yes, sir; about half an hour before the crash came, i should say, roughly speaking." "what was the position of the two ships?" "i don't know that i can explain it so that you would understand. i can draw a diagram of it if you wish." "do so." rush quickly outlined the position of the two ships on a pad of paper and handed it to his questioner. "do you know what the course of your ship was?" "not so that i could name it. i would know if i had a compass--i mean i could point it out." the superintendent called for a compass card, which a clerk brought from his office. steve studied it a moment, turning the card around until he had placed it in the desired position. "this is where we were, up to the time the fog came down and we couldn't see anything more," he said, placing a finger on a point on the card. "but you were on the bridge. how could you know this?" demanded the questioner. "i was watching the bridge compass, trying to learn something about it. you see, this is my first experience on a ship and i was anxious to learn all i could." "then your course was south-south-west-one-half?" "i don't know, sir. the little mark on the compass rim was on the point that i have indicated, previous to the time the fog settled." thus far the lad's testimony had corroborated all that the captain had said. "have you had any talk with captain simms as to what you should testify to?" interrupted one of the government representatives. "certainly not, sir," answered the boy flushing. "captain simms is not that kind of man. he expects me to tell the truth, and that is what i am trying to do." "we understand that, rush," interposed mr. carrhart, soothingly. "you are giving us some valuable information. the gentlemen merely wish to get at all of the facts." "now, mr. rush, let me understand this clearly. you say that the course was south-south-west-one-half just before the fog settled?" "yes, sir, if that is the course indicated by that point," again placing his finger on the compass card. "am i to infer then that the course was changed after the fog came down?" "yes, sir." "ah!" the spectators straightened up at this. their faces were grave. an important piece of evidence had been brought out. it might be against captain simms, or it might be in his favor. all depended upon the boy's further testimony. "what was the course after the change?" steve again pointed to the card. "we swung over to this point." the superintendent and the government representatives examined the point indicated by steve very carefully. "south-south-west flat?" "if that is it, yes sir." "captain, you may answer where you are. did you change your course as indicated by rush?" "i did. the boy is right. he hasn't eyes in his head for nothing. he sees more than any one else on my ship does." "did you think what the reason for that change of course was?" demanded the superintendent, again turning to steve. "i thought it was to make sure that we should clear the other ship." "yes; according to the position of both vessels, the 'macomber' had the right of way," interjected the captain. "i changed the course to clear them, and i should have done so. i don't understand, yet, why i did not." "why did you not tell us of this in your testimony?" "i did not think of it." "even though it was in your favor?" the captain nodded. the captain of the lost "macomber" was called in. "what course was your ship steering when the collision occurred?" he was asked. "i supposed it was the course as indicated on the report made by me." "you were in your cabin asleep?" "yes, sir." "who was on duty in the pilot-house?" "the mate and the wheelman." "they were lost?" "they were." "you know of no reason why they should have changed their course so as to throw your ship squarely in front of the 'wanderer'?" "no earthly reason." "they were thoroughly capable and experienced men?" "yes, so far as my observation went." "you admit that the course of your ship was changed, do you not?" "if what the young man and captain simms say is true, our course must have been changed. i cannot but think the mate must have lost his head, or else failed to note the position of the compass while he was busy peering ahead. that is probably the explanation, the wheelman forgetting himself in looking ahead also. he knew there was a ship under their bows; both knew it and they were naturally anxious." "you would not have mentioned this had not the young seaman rush brought it out?" "i might not have, because i did not know it. it puts the matter in an entirely new light." "you admit, then, that your vessel was in the wrong?" interposed one of the government officials. "i am obliged to, granting that the statements we have heard are correct, and i have no idea that they are not. while i am responsible for the safety of my ship, i do not see how i can be held accountable for the disaster. i did not know there was a fog and no word was brought to me to that effect. a man must get sleep at some time, and what better time than when the skies are fair and the sea is calm?" the officials cleared the room, after which they went into executive session with the government men. their discussion lasted little more than half an hour. the two captains were then sent for, the witnesses being allowed to enter the room also. "captain simms," announced the superintendent of the steamship line, "we find you free from all blame in this matter. you did all that you could. you let your ship swing off sufficiently to have cleared the 'macomber'; you were under reduced speed, and you were at your post where you should have been under the circumstances. besides this, you and your crew did heroic service in rescuing the men of the ill-fated ship. you lost two of your own men in so doing and nearly lost a third. especial credit is due to seaman robert jarvis, who bravely saved several lives at the risk of losing his own. as for you, captain," he added, addressing the master of the "macomber," "i am sorry to say that we shall have to lay you off for sixty days. while you were not physically responsible for the loss of your ship, you are morally responsible. had you been at your post, and had there been no errors of judgment on your part, you would have been freed from blame. at the expiration of your suspension you will no doubt be assigned to another ship. the government officials here concur in both decisions. they agree that captain simms is wholly blameless for the disaster." captain simms did not smile. his face was grave. he was sincerely sorry for the other captain. he knew how easy it was for a man to lose his place in the line through no immediate fault of his own. simms himself might have been in the position of the other man had it not been for one keen, honest, observant boy. "gentlemen, i wish to say a word," announced mr. carrhart, rising. "i wish to say that this board owes a vote of thanks to seaman stephen rush." "we do," assented several voices at once. "i know mr. rush and his friend jarvis very well, and i have watched their careers for the last two years. they always do well whatever is set before them to do. had it not been for rush's very explicit testimony--for his keen observation, we probably should not have gotten at the facts, and a great injustice might have been done to captain simms, though that would have been largely his own fault. captain simms, you will proceed to detroit in the morning and take charge of the 'richmond,' our new steel, ore-carrying steamer, which is ready to go into commission at once. i presume you will take these two young men with you on the new boat?" "i certainly shall if they will ship with me," answered captain simms promptly. "i wish i had some more men like them. even half as good men would do very well." the captain stepped across the room and grasped steve by the hand. "i owe this whole business to you, rush, and you bet i won't forget it!" chapter xv at the wheel "isn't she a beauty!" said steve admiringly, as, with jarvis and captain simms, he stood on the dock at the shipyards in detroit, gazing up at the new steamer, the finest ship of her kind plying the lakes. "she is," agreed the master proudly, "but i'm not forgetting that i might not have had her if it hadn't been for you. let's go aboard and look her over." all hands climbed the ladder to the deck. besides the usual two deck-houses, fore and aft, there was another house just aft of the forward house. this was the guest or passenger dining room where the guests of the line would be served with their meals. after admiring this the men went forward. the captain's quarters were handsomer than anything the men ever had seen before. "the only trouble with this outfit up here is that it's bigger and i'll be lonesome up here," laughed the captain. "we'll come up and visit you," returned jarvis. "i hope you will, at that," answered the skipper heartily. "i don't know of any men i would rather have in my cabin. i'll tell you what you do. you both come in every evening when we are not otherwise engaged, and i will teach you navigation." "thank you very much, sir," replied rush. "that is exactly what i wish to learn. of course, i cannot learn it all while i am on the lakes, but i shall be able to get a general idea of it." "you will learn it quickly enough. after you have been on these lakes one season you'll know more about these waters than a whole lot of men who have been drilling up and down here for the greater part of their lives. we will go back and look over your quarters now." the room assigned to the boys was even more attractive than had been their quarters on the old ship. the room was large and cosily furnished, and the iron boys were delighted with it. the next thing was the selection of a crew. captain simms, with the authority of the officials of the line, decided to ship his old crew, which was done as soon as the "wanderer" reached detroit on the following day. the new ship was under orders to proceed to duluth for a cargo of ore. the up trip was uneventful, the efforts of all hands being devoted to shaking the new vessel down and getting acquainted with her. the "richmond" proved herself to be all that was expected of her. she handled easily and well. during the three days' trip up the lakes, the boys began their study of navigation. their first work was to learn to box the compass; that is, name every point on the compass. steve, with his usual aptness, committed the card to memory in one night. bob was not very far behind him. then they took up the study of the theory of navigation, working out positions by moon, stars and sun, all requiring more or less mathematical proficiency. rush proved himself an apt pupil, and he had made a good start by the time they reached the ore docks in duluth. the lads found a few hours time in which to run home to see steve's mother, and at daylight on the following morning the "richmond" backed from her slip and turned her trim bow toward the waters of lake superior once more. "i am going to put you two men on the wheel," announced the master, on the morning of the second day out. "steering the ship?" questioned jarvis. "yes. you will find it easy work, but you will have to pay strict attention to business." the eyes of the iron boys glowed with pleasure. they took a trial watch early that forenoon under the direction of the captain, who first explained the operation of the wheel. unlike the old style steering wheels, this one was operated by crude petroleum instead of by ropes and chains running over pulleys. turning the wheel forced the oil through a little half-inch pipe. the pressure thus obtained opened a valve in the engine room and set the steam steering gear at work. the ship, by this modern method, could be steered with a single finger. "wonderful, wonderful!" exclaimed the boys, when they fully understood the operation. their knowledge of it was not complete until they had made a journey back to the engine room to watch the steam steering gear work there as the wheel was turned in the pilot-house. then there was another wonder that they were instructed in, the electrical equipment of the ship. all the running lights were lighted by electricity from the pilot-house. then there were three methods of blowing the whistle situated aft of the pilot-house. first, there was the usual whistle cord; then there was a lever some two feet in length, that pulled the wire attached to the whistle valve. but the most remarkable of all was an electric button whistle. a pressure on this blew the steam whistle. a long pressure blew a long blast and a quick pressure a short blast. "electricity plays an important part in the world's affairs to-day," said captain simms, noting their keen interest. "you see we have wireless equipment, too." "why isn't it working?" "it will be when we get some one to operate it. i understand that the line is going to ship an operator at the soo. i don't know whether it is a good thing or not. too handy for the officials to say, 'why did you do that?' or 'why didn't you do this?' well, it's always possible that the thing won't work when you want it to. i guess we can see to that." the boys nodded. steve was at the wheel. he soon got the knack of keeping the vessel on her course, but found that watching the compass card so steadily made his head ache. still, it was fascinating work. the helmsman sat on a high stool, both arms resting on the wheel between the spokes, his eyes looking over the wheel and down into the binnacle. a glance up showed miles of sea ahead with the gently rising and falling bow of the ship in the foreground. there was a consciousness of power as the helmsman gently turned the wheel this way or that. the great ship obeyed his slightest pressure. glancing back through the rear windows of the pilot-house the stern of the ship swung in response to the turn of the wheel with a crack-the-whip motion. the skipper, noting steve's glance at the swinging stern, nodded. "that is what you must look out for when in close quarters. you see, you are so far forward here that you can scarcely believe what a wide circle that other end will make--i should say sweep. it doesn't necessarily cut circles. in entering harbors you must measure your distance with your eyes and know how far you can turn your wheel without having the stern of the ship smash into a breakwater, or crash in the side of some other vessel to the right or left of you." "there is much to learn. i can see that." "sailing the lakes is done by instinct largely. if a man's cut out for the business he makes a go of it. if he isn't, some dark night he misses his way and lands on a hidden reef somewhere. then, presto, he's out of a job, and maybe worse." "when do we reach the soo?" interrupted jarvis. "this evening. rush will be at the wheel about that time, and you had better be up here, too, jarvis. you can't become too familiar with the ports and the lights. do you know how to read buoys?" "no, sir," answered the boys. "it is very simple. when you are entering port red buoys, with even numbers, are left to your right hand or starboard. black buoys with odd numbers are left to the left hand or port. that's the rule the world over." "but," objected jarvis, "suppose it's night and you can't see the buoys. what are you going to do then?" the captain laughed heartily. "lights, my boy. channels are lighted at night, so you can't go wrong; but a good navigator will take his ship through any place without a light to guide him. i want you boys to learn every one of the ranges----" "what is a range?" interrupted bob. "guide lights," spoke up steve quickly. "they are the lights on shore, either lighthouses or buoys, to show you how to lay your course." "that is the idea," agreed captain simms. "let's hear you box the compass while we are here alone, jarvis." bob went over, taking a look at the compass. "why do you do that?" "i wanted to see whether we were at the north pole or the south pole." "i guess you would know it if you were--that is, you would be pretty certain that you weren't navigating the great lakes. go ahead now." jarvis shut his eyes and began reading off the points of the compass, making only one error in his reading. "that is fine," announced the skipper. "i'll guarantee there isn't a man in the ship's crew, outside of the first mate, who can do it so well. of course, i am excepting rush and myself. rush does everything well." that night steve took his regular trick at the wheel at eight o'clock. of course, jarvis was there, too, as were the captain and the first mate. they were nearing the soo, as they could see from the lights. "let's see, you boys have not been through here, have you?" "we were below decks the other time, sir." "oh, yes, i remember. we will take the canadian locks this time. the canadian locks are on the left and the american locks on the right, but the latter are too short to hold a boat as long as this one, so we are obliged to take the canadian side." "why do we have to lock through?" questioned jarvis. "to get around the rapids, and for the further reason that huron lies lower than superior. this is whitefish bay. the light that we have just dropped to starboard is whitefish point lighthouse. rush, do you see that red light yonder?" "yes, sir." "point on it." "i can't see the bow of our boat so as to tell whether i am pointing on the light or not." "i'll fix that." the captain pressed a button and a ray of dull, ghostly light appeared just beyond and over the bow. the lads uttered exclamations of amazement. "what is it? how did you do it, sir?" "that, lads, is a guide light on the end of the pole that answers for the bowsprit. the light is there for the purpose of giving you a guide to steer by in narrow places." lights began to spring up ahead, until there was such a confusion of them that neither boy could make anything out of them, but the steady eyes of the captain picked out the lights that he wished to find without the least difficulty. "do you hear the roar of the rapids in the st. mary's river?" "yes; we hear them." "those green lights way over yonder are on the american locks. now port your helm and steer for that white light standing high above the rest. are you on it?" "on the mark, sir," answered steve. they continued on this course for ten or fifteen minutes, when the captain ordered the wheelman to starboard his wheel. this threw the bow to the left, sending the boat across the bay on a diagonal course. "why don't you go straight in?" asked jarvis. "we should land high and dry on the rocks if we did," answered the skipper, with a short laugh. "others have tried that very thing. the hulls of some of their ships are down there under the water now." the boys began to realize that navigating the great lakes required a great deal of skill and knowledge. "there is a ship in the locks now," announced captain simms. both boys gazed into the night, but they could see no ship. the master signaled the engine room to slow down, explaining, at the same time, that they would have to drift in slowly and stop until the other boat got out. the channel began to narrow as the master directed the wheel this way and that until they found themselves in a walled-in channel that led directly to the locks themselves. "snub her!" commanded the captain, leaning from the pilot-house window. a ladder was shoved over the side of the moving ship, a man on either side of it on deck pushing it along so that it might not be dragged. quick as a flash a sailor sprang on the ladder, and, grasping the side pieces, shot down to the dock on that side, a distance of some twenty feet. following came others, all getting down in the same manner. it was a dangerous thing to do and excited the wonder and admiration of the two boys in the pilot-house. "if i were to try that i would be in the water," laughed rush. "it is a good thing for me that i am at the wheel, for i wouldn't be able to resist trying that experiment." hawsers were cast over from the deck, and these, the men who had gone over the side, twisted about snubbing posts. at the same time the ship's propeller began reversing slowly at a signal from the captain. the ship came to an easy stop. the skill with which it had all been done, made a deep impression on the iron boys. a few moments later the gates of the locks opened and the other steamer moved slowly out. so close did they pass the "richmond" that some of the men reached out and shook hands across the gulf, while the two captains held a brief conversation. then the "richmond" let go her moorings and moved slowly into the canadian locks. the gates swung to behind them, the water began rushing from the other end of the locks and the ship rapidly settled until her decks were level with the dock beside which she stood. the men who had gone over the side now stepped aboard and hauled in the hawsers after them. "marvelous!" breathed the iron boys. "slow speed ahead," commanded the skipper. "we are now on the huron level. here comes your relief. i hope you boys get a good night's sleep." "thank you, sir; good night," answered the lads, starting for their cabin. it had been a most interesting evening for them. chapter xvi through the rocky cut four long and two short blasts roared from the whistle of the "richmond." it was the private signal of captain simms. the ship was bearing down on port huron and was at that moment at the mouth of the st. clair river. the skipper stepped to the door of the pilot-house with megaphone in hand. "this is where i live," he explained. "my wife always comes out to see me as we pass. see the light there, in that cottage on the river bank? well, that's where i live when i'm not steamboating. there she comes." through the moonlight steve saw a woman running down to the edge of the water. "how are you, john?" called her pleasant voice through a megaphone. "i'm well; how are the folks?" "they're all well." "any news?" "nothing except that betty has six pretty white chickens and she's terribly cross." "put her in the soup," suggested the captain. just then a little white-robed figure appeared at an upper window of the captain's home. in her hand the little one also held a megaphone. it was the captain's twelve-year-old daughter, marie, the apple of his eye. "h-e-l-l-o p-pa-pa-a-a," came the greeting in a childish treble. "hello, marie!" bellowed bob jarvis from the rail aft of the bridge. "who are you? i don't know your voice." "i'm bob jarvis, but you don't know me." "hello, bob. yes, i do. my papa wrote to me about you. where's steve?" there was a laugh that rippled from one end of the deck to the other. "never mind him; he is steering the ship. when are you coming out with us? come along and we'll have a lot of fun." "i don't know. when papa says i may. when may i come, papa? and you haven't said a word to me yet. you'll be gone in a minute." "how could i? you haven't given me a chance to get a word in edgeways. port your helm a little," he added, in a lower voice to rush. "port a little," answered steve. "when, papa?" "perhaps the next trip. i will send you a letter from down the line. jennie, can you go back with us if i stop for you on the up trip?" "i'll see. if i can do so i'll run up the red flag on the staff. if you see that you may stop. if not, you will know we can't get away that trip. i've got to attend to my early canning, you know." captain simms grumbled something outside the megaphone, that sounded something like, "shoot the canning!" "good-bye," came two voices, sounding faint and far away on the soft night air, one being a woman's voice, the other the thin, childish treble of a little girl. "head on that bright light low down there," directed the skipper, with a last lingering look back toward his home. "that's the worst of this business. a fellow gets about a five-minute look at his home and family, once a month or so. i'd rather be sitting on my front porch to-night than steering a ship through this rocky river." "is that a light-house that i am steering for?" "no; that's an inspector's cabin. starboard some." "starboard some," repeated the helmsman. "all ships have to report as they go by. you will hear him call when we get abreast. those fellows never seem to sleep." "it must be a lonely life for a man out there." "it is, and----" "ship ahoy. what ship is that?" bellowed the inspector through his megaphone. "'richmond' from duluth with ore." "the what?" "'richmond'!" roared bob from the lower deck. "i don't catch it." "six o'clock," howled jarvis with his hands to his mouth, at which there was a loud laugh from the ship's company. "steamer 'richmond,'" shouted the captain. "why don't you open your ears? think we can stand here yelling like wild indians all night?" the inspector did not answer. from past experience he realized the futility of an argument with a lake captain. "this is the most dangerous navigating of any place on the lakes, rush," said the skipper. "the bottom of our ship is only three feet from the bottom of the cut at this minute. swerving six feet either to the right or left out of our course would put us hard and fast on the rocks. we should block the channel besides running the risk of breaking the ship's back. steady!" "steady, sir." "remember, i am talking to the rudder. i keep that rudder in my mind every second of the time. i can see its every movement. i don't know there is such a thing as a steering wheel when i'm navigating like this. port a little." "port a little, sir." "now head for that range light up on the hill there. this cut, known as rock cut, was built by the government at great expense. hold your course as you are until you round the bend in the cut there, then head on a red light that you will see high up on the rocks. get your funnel back there in range with the white light on the hill you see to the left. you will be exactly in the channel then. keep in the middle. i have to go to my cabin for a moment. i think i can trust you. remember, the channel is narrow and you must keep well within it." "i will, sir." steve was left alone in the pilot-house. as he was steering by range guides alone, now, he did not have to watch the compass. all the windows of the pilot-house had been let down so that he had an unobstructed view all around. "i'm running the ship," breathed the lad. "i don't know who's taking the biggest chance, myself or the captain." though the iron boy felt the responsibility of his position, he could not help the little thrill of triumph that ran through him. he was far up in the air with no one save the watch down in the forepeak near him. the night was bright and glorious, the most peaceful scene he had ever gazed upon. but rush did not devote much thought to the peacefulness of his surroundings. his mind was too thoroughly centred on his work. the "richmond," sailed majestically around the bend in the cut, steve glancing back over the decks to see that his funnel was coming in line with the range indicated by the captain. as rush looked ahead through the open pilot-house window again his heart fairly leaped into his throat. two eyes, one red the other green were blinking at him right in his path dead ahead. "it's a ship!" he exclaimed. "i don't dare pass it here. i don't know whether there's room or not. what shall i do?" the iron boy's quick mind solved the problem in a flash. springing to the pilot-house telegraph he swung the indicator over to the words, "half speed astern." the ship began to tremble under the impact of the reversing propeller. grasping the whistle lever steve blew five short, sharp blasts, then taking his place at the wheel he calmly kept the vessel in her course, the other ship bearing down on him whistling as if the whistle lever had been wired down. the reversing of the propeller had not been lost on captain simms. he knew instantly what it meant when he felt the trembling of the vessel. then came the danger signal--five sharp blasts on the whistle. the captain was out of his cabin on the run taking the stairway to the bridge three steps at a time. by this time rush had thrown the telegraph indicator over to "full speed astern." he was watching the stern to see that it did not swing out of the channel, then turning to see what the vessel ahead of him was doing. what had caused him to so suddenly reverse the propeller was not so much the narrowness of the channel, but rather a light that was placed well out from the shore line on his side. it was a white light, and, while he did not understand the meaning of it, he knew that it had been placed there as a warning to ships to keep well outside of it. the other boat was coming to a stop also, but by the time captain simms reached the pilot-house the bows of the two ships were so close together that it seemed as though they might crash together. one swift, comprehensive glance told the captain everything. he noted that his vessel was reversing, that the pilot was keeping her in the channel and that the other ship was coming to a stop. without a word to steve he grasped his megaphone and sprang to the window. "choke her down, you fools! do you want to run us under?" "get out of the way yourself! why didn't you blow your whistle? you saw that buoy there. you have seen it for the last half hour. you knew you ought to have given warning before you got into the cut here." "what does that buoy mean?" demanded captain simms. "a coal barge was sunk there this morning." the two vessels met with a heavy bump that set everything rattling on board both ships, but the shock was not sufficiently severe to do any damage to either. "back up, you fellows, unless you want us to push you out!" commanded captain simms. in the meantime, after the shock, steve had stepped to the telegraph and swung the indicator to the word "stop!" the two captains hurled language at each other for the next two minutes, but the other skipper grew tired of it first. he gave the order to reverse propeller. the up-bound boat began to retreat slowly. "slow speed ahead," commanded captain simms. the master was leaning from the pilot-house window, megaphone in hand, ready to roar at the other skipper at the first opportunity. but there was no good excuse for him to do so. after backing down stream sufficiently to make passing safe, captain simms gave his whistle lever a jerk, sounding one sharp blast, meaning that he would meet and pass the other vessel on its port side. the "richmond" slipped by at a little higher speed than was safe, her sides scraping the paint off the other boat in spots. "i ought to report you, you lubber!" roared captain simms in passing. "you ain't fit to command a mud scow. i've got a kid on this boat who's a better captain, after half a cruise, than you'll be if you cruise all your life." the captain jerked the telegraph indicator to "three-quarter speed ahead" with such violence that it threatened to tear the indicator chains from their hooks. then he turned to rush. "steve, much obliged," he said. "that's the second time you saved the ship. i owe you another one for that. unless i am greatly mistaken, you'll be trotting around with a master's license in your inside pocket by the time you are twenty-one. steady there." "steady, sir," answered the boy at the wheel. chapter xvii the blow in the dark they had passed out through lake st. clair as eight bells rang out. steve relinquished the wheel to the next watch and bidding good night to the captain started back toward his quarters. the lad made his way back over the deck, strolling slowly along, enjoying the night and thinking over the events of the evening. as he reached the after deck-house he halted, leaning against it looking forward and watching the gentle rising and falling of the upper works forward. "it is almost fascinating enough to make one want to spend his life on board a ship," mused the iron boy. "well, i must turn in. i----" he did not finish what he was about to say. a crushing blow was dealt him on the back of the head, coming from the deep shadows on the starboard side of the after deck-house. steve staggered forward, then fell face downward on the steel deck of the "richmond." sailors found him there, half an hour later, unconscious. no one knew what had happened. the captain was notified at once and he, after an examination of the boy, decided that steve had fallen against a steel hatch and had given his head a severe bump. they worked over the lad for nearly an hour before getting him back to consciousness. he had been put to bed, and bob was detailed to sit by and watch his companion, which he did with solemn face. steve fell into a deep sleep from which he did not fully awaken until morning. he was lame and sore from head to feet. bob was asleep on the edge of the berth and the ship was rolling heavily. without waking his companion, rush got up after much effort, dressed himself, and, supporting himself by keeping his hands on the woodwork, made his way outside. day was just breaking. steve leaned against the deck-house in the same position that he had been occupying on the previous night when he was struck. the captain, at that juncture, came along on his way to breakfast. "hello, rush," he greeted, halting. "how do you feel?" "all knocked out." "that's too bad. come in and have some breakfast. you will feel better after that." "i do not think i want any breakfast, sir." "pshaw! come along. by the way, you had a nasty fall last night, didn't you?" "i should say i did." "how did you happen to slip?" "i didn't slip, captain." "you didn't?" "no, sir." "then how did you happen to crack your head on a hatch cover?" "how was i lying when you found me?" "they said you were lying on your face." "if that was the case, i couldn't very well have bumped the back of my head on a hatch cover, could i?" "that had not occurred to me before. see here, didn't you lose your balance or stumble and fall?" "i fell, but it was through no fault of my own." "will you tell me what did happen?" questioned the captain with a puzzled expression on his face. "i think i was struck," answered rush calmly. "knocked down?" "yes, sir." "impossible! who--what----?" "i do not know any more about it than you do, sir. i was standing here just as i am now, when i got a terrible blow on the back of my head. i didn't know it was a blow then, but as i think it over i remember very well. everything grew dark about me. the next i knew i was in my cabin, with you and jarvis working over me." "what you are telling me is a very serious matter, rush." "it was serious enough for me at the time." "who was on the deck at the time?" "no one, so far as i observed." "but, it would have been impossible for any one to approach close enough to hit you, without your either hearing or seeing him." "it would seem so. yet the fact remains that i was hit. it takes considerable to knock me out, sir, but i got enough last night." "do you suspect any one?" "not a person. i cannot understand it at all." "well, you just keep your eyes open. if you find out who struck that dastardly blow i'll deal severely with him. he won't be in condition to strike any one else for some time to come." "i think i shall be able to take care of the man myself when i meet him and know him," replied the lad, with a faint smile. "i shall report for duty on time this morning, so please do not put any one in my place." "very well; perhaps it will do you good to be busy. well, i'm going to breakfast. let me know if you get a line on this mystery." steve did not answer. he stood leaning against the after deck-house, thinking. finally he turned with a sigh intending to go forward. as he did so a man came out of the stokers' dining room and started to go below. rush halted sharply. "hello, smith," he said. "when did you come aboard the 'richmond'?" "when did you think i came aboard?" "that's what i am asking you." "mebby i'm a fish and swam out," answered the stoker. smith was the man with whom steve had had the trouble on the first disastrous cruise. "i shouldn't be surprised. you are equal to most anything that's out of the ordinary. where were you last night?" "stoking from six to twelve--eight bells. but----" smith checked himself. "so you came off at twelve, eh?" "i did. but how's that your business?" "perhaps it may be my business. at least, i am going to make it my business." "see here, young feller, be you trying to pick a row with me?" "no; one doesn't have to pick a quarrel with you. you're always quarreling. if i wanted to have a fight with you all i should have to do would be to look at you and the fight would be on. i'm looking at you now, smith." the stoker uttered a half-suppressed growl of anger, started toward the iron boy, then halted, opening and closing his fingers nervously. "i'll--i'll----" "out with it. you will feel better after you have said it," urged steve in an encouraging voice. "i'll break your blasted head for you----" smith made a jump for the iron boy. steve stepped lightly to one side, putting out his foot as the stoker shot by him. smith's head hit the edge of a hatch, then he sprawled forward on the deck. "so you're the fellow who gave me that blow in the dark last night, are you?" demanded the lad in a stern voice. "i--i'll kill you for this!" roared the stoker, raising a vengeful face to the iron boy. "you'll do it some dark night, then. you haven't the courage to face a man in broad daylight and meet him man to man--no; i won't put it that way, for you are no man. you're just a common tough, that's what you are. now get up and take your medicine, for you're going to get a walloping that ought to last you longer than the hose bath did." smith sprang to his feet and rushed at his young antagonist. he did not reach steve, however. the fellow suddenly received a blow under the ear that sent him spinning and tumbling over among the hatches that extended above the deck some two feet at their highest point. but steve had not delivered the blow. he had not even raised his hands, though he was standing in position ready to meet the charge of the tough stoker. "get up, you hound!" roared captain simms. it was he who had delivered the blow. he had emerged from the mess room just in time to see the stoker's enraged face over steve rush's shoulder. the captain understood instantly what smith was about to do. the skipper took two quick strides forward and his powerful fist smote the other man a terrific blow. the stoker leaped to his feet and went for the captain, now enraged beyond all control. but he had reckoned without his man. the skipper knocked the angry stoker down almost before the latter could raise his fists. "never mind, captain; i can take care of him," urged steve. "stand back! this is my circus. what was he going to hit you for?" "i was to blame. i goaded him into it. i----" "wait a minute. he hasn't got enough yet. he's coming for me." the captain suspended conversation long enough to give smith a right and left swing on either side of the head that sent the fellow to the deck with all the fight knocked out of him, and which put him out of business for the next ten minutes. captain simms turned calmly to rush. "now, what was it you were saying, my lad?" rush could not repress a smile. "nothing very much. you know smith and myself had some trouble on the last cruise?" "yes, i remember." "he never has gotten over being angry at me. he began saying disagreeable things to me, and i suppose i helped the matter along by tantalizing him. i was as much to blame as smith was. but--but i'm sorry you didn't let me give him what he was spoiling for." "he got it, that's all that is necessary," growled the master. "see here, rush, he isn't the fellow who hit you last night, is he?" demanded the captain suddenly, shooting a quick, suspicious glance into the face of the iron boy. "i didn't see who hit me," answered steve, truthfully even if somewhat evasively. "call the first mate!" rush did so. "put that man in irons and keep him on bread and water until he is ready to go to work and mind his own business. i've half a notion to turn him over to the authorities for mutiny," said the skipper reflectively. "don't you think he has had punishment enough, sir?" urged steve. "yes, i suppose he has at that. iron him, major. it will do him good." the stoker woke up just as the steel bracelets were being snapped on his wrists. protesting and threatening, he was dragged to the lazaret, where he was destined to remain for the next twenty-four hours in solitary confinement, with nothing more substantial to live on than bread and water. chapter xviii visitors on the "richmond" the ugly stoker was liberated on the following day after having promised to behave himself in the future. but he held his head low when showing himself on deck, which was seldom. he never permitted his shifting eyes to meet those of steve rush, nor did steve make any effort to address the man. the lad was confident, in his own mind, that smith was the man who struck him that night by the after deck-house, but the drubbing that captain simms had given the fellow made rush feel that they were now even. on the way back the ship picked up mrs. simms and little marie at port huron. the "richmond" was on its way to south chicago with a cargo of coal. this took them around into lake michigan, and many were the happy hours spent by the captain's little daughter and the iron boys. they played games on deck between watches, as though all three were children. rush and jarvis had constituted themselves the special guardians of the little girl, and she queened it over them, making them her willing subjects. at south chicago the ship was held up for a week because the company to which the coal was consigned was not ready to receive it. steve considered this to be bad business policy on the part of the steamship people, and another memorandum went down in his book, to be considered in detail later on. while at south chicago the lads made frequent trips into the city, which they had never visited before. one afternoon they took the captain's wife and daughter to a matinee, then out to dinner at a fashionable restaurant. it made a pleasant break in the lives of each of the four, and helped to cement the friendship between little marie and her new-found friends. at last the coal was unloaded. after filling the tanks with water ballast, the "richmond" started away for the northward to take on another cargo of ore and once more to drill down the great lakes. the water ballast did not draw the ship down to its load level, with the result that she rolled considerably. "the glass is falling," announced the captain as the craft swung into lake superior two days later. "i shouldn't be surprised if we had quite a jabble of a sea before night." "we don't care, do we?" chirped marie, to whom a rolling ship was a keen delight. "not as long as the dishes stay on the table," answered bob, with a merry laugh. "when are you going to bake that long-promised cake for me?" "just as soon as the cook will let me. he's always cooking something for the night watch when he isn't getting the regular meals. my, but that night watch must have an awful appetite!" she chuckled. "yes, i've noticed that," agreed bob. "but you can't lay it to me. i've a feather-weight appetite. i didn't have any at all when i first went aboard an ore carrier. it beats all how quickly a fellow will lose all interest in life the first time out." the wind blew hard all the way up superior, raising, as the captain had promised it would, "quite a jabble of a sea." but the blow was nothing like a heavy gale. it was just a sea, a nasty, uncomfortable sea. the boys and marie were in great good humor all the way up. marie's mother was ill in her stateroom and the assistant cook had had an unexpected attack of seasickness. "nice crew of lubbers," growled the captain, when informed of the assistant cook's indisposition. the ship reached duluth at night and immediately was shunted into the slip at the ore docks for loading. after the hatches were down a huge crate was hoisted aboard with a crane. a section of the deck was opened up and the crate was let down into the lazaret. the crate was consigned to one of the company's officials in the east. no one paid any attention to the crate, and it is doubtful if any one save the captain and the first mate knew what the contents of the crate were. hatches were battened down and long before daylight the "richmond" was on her way again. by this time the "jabble" had increased to a full gale. no other ship ventured out, but captain simms was not a skipper to be held back by the weather. he knew his ship was seaworthy and he knew full well how to handle her safely in any sea that the lakes could kick up. a full northwester was raging down from the hills and the glass was falling all the time. the "glass" is the sailor's name for barometer. steve took the wheel as they passed out, and he was obliged to give up the wheelman's stool because he could not keep it right side up under him. he dragged a platform over to the wheel. it was made for the purpose, having cross-cleats on it to enable the helmsman to keep his footing when the ship was cutting up capers. "there," he announced, "i'll stick here until the wheel comes off." waves broke over the vessel continuously, striking the deck with reports like those of distant artillery. superior was a dreary waste of gray and white. the air seemed full of the spume of the crested rollers, while the clouds were leaden and threatening. "look at the rainbow!" cried bob, pointing off to the westward. "that ain't a rainbow you landlubber," jeered a companion. "well, if it isn't i never saw a rainbow." "no, it's a dog." "a what?" "sundog." "bob, you certainly are a lubber," laughed mr. major. "didn't you ever see a sundog before?" "never. what are they for?" "i don't know what they are for. i know what they do--they bring gales and storm and trouble all along the line. that's what the dogs do." "i think the other ships saw it before we did, for there doesn't seem to be another boat on the lake." "no; at least, the little fellows have taken to harbors along the coast. it wasn't the sundog, however, but the glass that warned them. you know the glass has been falling for the past twenty-four hours. we know what to expect when that happens, but we don't know what to expect when the storm strikes us. these lakes are the most treacherous bodies of water in the world. twenty miles beyond here is the graveyard of superior, where the hulls of more than fifty ships lie rotting on the bottom. some of them went down in weather no worse than this. this is bad enough." bob listened attentively. "do you ever get seasick in any of these storms?" "always," answered the first mate, in a matter of fact tone. "if this keeps on you won't see me at mess to-day noon. you'll have to eat your dinner standing up, but not for me." the weather grew more tempestuous as the forenoon wore on. the scuppers were running rivers of green lake water and there was not a dry spot on the decks; even the upper works standing high in the air, were dripping with the spray that had been showered over them. "let her off three points," commanded the captain. almost instant relief from the incessant pounding was noticeable. the waves came aboard only occasionally, though the sea was running the same as before and the ship was rolling almost down to her rails. "that is better," nodded steve, his voice echoing in the silence of the pilot-house. "did it make you dizzy?" smiled the skipper. "no, sir. i got all over that after i fell in the hold that time. it isn't a comfortable feeling to have the floor rolling around beneath one's feet, but i am getting so that i do not mind it much. is that a boat ahead of us there?" "yes," replied the captain, placing the glasses to his eyes. "it's a pig, and she's having a pretty hard time of it. all you can see of her is a smother of foam in the place where the ship is. the smoke from her funnel seems to come right out of the lake." "are those whalebacks safe, captain?" asked the pilot. "yes. i commanded one for two seasons. they are perfectly safe, so long as nothing happens to them." steve laughed. "that goes without saying." "but they are the wettest boats in the world, as you can judge by watching that fellow beating his way against the sea. they have a very thin skin and the least puncture will go through. next thing you'll hear the hatches blowing off, and down she goes like a meteorite shot from above." "i don't believe i should care for them. i prefer to be high above water like this, rather than under it all the way down the lakes. if i wanted to travel on a submarine i'd ship on a real one." the gale was playing tunes on the braces, and the life-span running from the forward to the after deck-house was swaying back and forth. steve gazed at it a moment then turned to the skipper. "i never could see the use of those life-spans. if the ship goes down, i don't understand how a life-span from one end of the ship to the other, is going to help any." "they haven't been on long. a good many lives would have been saved if they had been. you see, the span is a rope on which travels a little swing just large enough to hold a man. then there is a free rope running through a ring in the top of the swing by which to pull one's self along." "yes, i have figured that out." "then suppose that to-night, in the darkness, we were to miss our way. the compass might go bad, we might be driven out of our course and all that sort of thing, you know--and all of a sudden we might drive our bow full speed on one of those low-lying apostle islands!" "yes, sir." "the stern of the ship would sink low and there she would pound to pieces. that's where the men astern would find use for the life-span. by it they would be able to pull themselves to the bow of the boat and perhaps make their escape before the stern finally went down under water. they are a good thing, and you should see to it that the spans are always in working order. i have those on my ship examined every day. i----" the captain was interrupted in what he was saying by a yell from the deck. the skipper took a quick look aft through the pilot-house windows, then sprang to the pilot-house telegraph. "full speed astern!" crashed the message to the engine room. chapter xix in the grip of the waves "somebody overboard!" said the captain sharply. "who?" demanded steve, in an equally sharp tone as his relief took the wheel from his hands. "i don't know." just then the figure of a man was seen to leap from the top of the after deck-house into the raging sea. bob jarvis had been clinging to a ladder that the chief engineer was holding up against the whistle pipe, the valve of the whistle having worked loose. the engineer had asked bob to help him as a favor, which the lad was glad to do, though that was not his department. it was a ticklish position in which to work, and at any moment a lurch of the ship might throw the ladder over and throw the iron boy into the sea. he gave no heed to the danger of his position, for he was rapidly becoming a true sailor. suddenly, as though some instinct had told him to do so, bob turned his head and glanced over the deck to the forward deck-house. as he did so he uttered an exclamation. little marie had just descended the steps from her father's quarters, and was already on the main deck. in her arms she carried several parcels. "go back!" roared jarvis. the words were driven back down his throat by the wind, and if the child understood his gestures she did not heed them. bob groaned. "let me down, quick! the child is trying to get aft and she'll never make it." with rare presence of mind, jarvis gave the whistle lever five quick, short jerks, sending forth as many blasts, the signal of danger. instantly some one shouted a sharp warning. by this time the lad had slid down the ladder and was making for the edge of the deck-house to drop down to the deck. he halted all of a sudden. bob tried to cry out, but the words would not come. he felt a sickening sensation sweep over him, and a sudden dizziness took possession of him. a white-crested wave had risen up out of the sea right alongside of the big steel ore carrier. for a moment it hung trembling over the ship like an avenging monster. then suddenly it swooped down. it reminded jarvis of a steam clam shell scooping up ore. he was thinking calmly now, and he was planning what he should do an instant later. the green scoop dipped, lifted the little marie clear of the deck, then raised her high above the steel hatch covers. a faint cry floated back to where the iron boy was standing as the captain's daughter was carried over the opposite side of the ship and dropped into the sea. a great shout escaped bob jarvis. lifting himself to his toes he took a long curving dive from the deck-house. he cleared the ship's rail with plenty of room to spare, entering the water head first just at the base of a huge swell. in an almost incredibly short time his hatless head bobbed up on the other side of the swell, leaving him struggling alone on the rough waters. the ship had slipped quickly by. but already her propeller was beating the water with all the force of the steam power behind it, turned on full, in an effort to start the ship going astern. steve had rushed out on deck the instant he was relieved. unmindful of the seas that were again breaking over the deck as the ship shifted her position, he dashed aft, drenched to the skin and battered this way and that by the angry combers as they roared curling aboard. a sailor ran panting up the stairs to the pilot-house. "it's the little girl!" cried the sailor. "your daughter's overboard and jarvis has gone after her. they'll both be drowned!" "port your helm a little," said the skipper in a calm, steady voice, as he turned to the wheelman. "steady!" springing to the telephone he called up the after deck-house. "have boat number 6 manned and swung out ready for launching. have men stand by with life-lines and rings ready to cast if we come up with them. you stand by and watch out astern." the commands were delivered in quick, sharp accents, but there was no trace of excitement either in the captain's tone or on his features. he was every inch the commander, cool, calm, resourceful. years of commanding had taught him that to be a master of others one must first be the master of himself and of his own emotions. "where are they? do you see them?" shouted rush, as he dashed to the after rail of the ship where a number of men were standing with pale, frightened faces. a hand pointed astern where, a second or so later, steve caught sight of the bobbing head of his companion. "has he got the child?" rush cried. "yes. leastwise, he had a minute ago. it was a lucky chance. you see, he jumped just in time and the girl was fairly swept into his arms." "it was not chance," retorted steve. "bob knew what he was doing." steve was pacing up and down the after deck, scarcely able to restrain himself from leaping into the sea and going to his companion's assistance. he knew, however, that the chances were that he would never be able to reach the struggling figure off there. at any rate the ship, which was now beating its way astern at a very fair rate of speed, would get to the spot before he could possibly hope to do so, even if he were able to make it at all. far up above the decks in the pilot-house with glasses to his eyes, stood the skipper, calm, stern, alert, now and then giving a brief command to the man at the wheel in a voice in which there was still no hint of nervousness or excitement. the first mate gazed at his commander in wonder. there were iron boys in that ship's company and there was a master who was also iron. "i think you had better go aft, mr. major," directed the skipper. "take charge back there. we are going to have difficulty in getting them aboard, even if they keep up until we get to them. the boy is making a great fight of it." "aye, aye, sir. has he the girl still?" "yes. he is trying to keep her head above water until we get to him, but i'm afraid she'll drown before we can help them." the first mate hurried from the pilot-house, starting aft at a run. he began shouting out his orders before he reached the stern. he found steve rush with coat and shoes off, poised on the rail of the plunging stern, the water dashing over him as he clung with one hand to a stanchion. "you are not going to try to go over, rush?" he shouted. "there's no need now," answered the boy, not for an instant taking his eyes from the two figures off there in the water. the ship was drawing near and it was observable that jarvis was not battling as strongly as he had before. they knew that he was becoming exhausted from his desperate struggle with the great seas that were sweeping him. "man boat number 6 and put it over!" commanded the mate. "no use to do that," called rush. "it will not live. better put over the lines at the proper time." "no; it is the captain's orders to launch number 6 boat. i want two men." nearly every man there stepped forward. they glanced at rush. he was still on the rail. he had made no effort to volunteer for the dangerous service. they wondered at it, but they knew the boy's courage too well to think for a moment that he had been deterred from offering to go out in the life-boat through fear. there were those present who would have resented such an imputation. steve cast a disapproving glance at the mate who was then superintending the launching of the craft. the men who were to go out in it already had taken their places in the boat, that had been provided with ropes, life rings and life preservers. at command the boat was swung out, the men standing up and steadying their craft by pressing their oars against the sides of the ship itself. "careful that you do not fall out!" warned mr. major. "i will give the command to let go. when i do so drop to your seats and out oars." "aye, aye, sir." "shut off!" shouted rush. "you'll run them down!" the mate made a signal to the captain, but the latter had timed the progress of his vessel too well to need the signal. already the propeller had ceased revolving and the captain was giving his directions to the wheelman so as to throw the stern to one side of the struggling boy. captain simms' plan was to drift down on jarvis and the child, with the sea. perhaps it was not the best thing to do, but it was the quickest and seconds were golden at that critical moment. "let go!" roared the mate. the life-boat struck the water with a splash. instantly it was picked up on the crest of a giant roller, lifted high in the air, and hurled against the side of the ship with terrific force. with a sickening crash the life-boat was crushed into splinters, precipitating the crew into the rough sea. rush leaped from the rail to the deck. he had been ready to do so when he saw what the mate proposed to do. he foresaw the end of the life-boat, and perhaps of the men who were manning her, even before they made a start to obey the orders of the mate. grasping a life ring to which a long line had been attached, steve hurled it over the side of the ship. "grab the line!" he shouted to one of the men next to him. "watch out and haul in when you get your man hooked." another life ring dropped over the side of the ship and the line to this steve passed to another man. both struggling sailors in the water fastened to the life rings that had been dropped within easy reach of them, thanks to the careful aim of the iron boy. steve saw that the two were reasonably safe; then, grabbing up another ring, he sprang to the rail on the port side. bob jarvis and the girl were drifting in, buffeted this way and that by one huge wave after another. the girl's head was drooping over bob's left shoulder. "can you make it?" bellowed rush. "i don't know." bob's voice sounded far away. steve was watching him with keen, steady eyes. the lad felt sure that they never would get aboard without at least serious injury. "kick the ship ahead a couple of turns!" shouted rush in a tone of command. the word was transmitted to the captain in the pilot-house by gestures. the captain gave the signal, but not quite quickly enough to accomplish what rush had hoped for. he wanted the ship advanced a few feet so that jarvis and his burden would drift past the stern where they could be pulled up without the danger of being crushed against the side of the ship. before the propeller had made one complete revolution the stern of the "richmond" was hit by a giant wave and then by another. the vessel it seemed was literally lifted from the water and thrown to one side. that was the side where bob jarvis was struggling to save himself and the captain's daughter. illustration: another figure dived from the rail. bob saw what was going to happen. the plucky lad held the child off at arm's length, as far away from the oncoming ship as possible, while with the other hand he sought to break the force of the blow. the side of the ship hit jarvis a tremendous blow. the lad's arm doubled under him and his head drooped forward on the water. "he's killed!" cried the watchers. splash! another figure had dived from the rail. it was steve. his dive took him right under bob and his burden. rush came up the other side and struck out for the couple with long, powerful strokes. chapter xx an exciting rescue with him rush had carried a life ring attached to the end of a rope, the other end of the rope having been, with rare presence of mind, made fast to the rail by him before leaping. he reached his companion just as bob's head drooped over and he lost consciousness. still, jarvis kept his grip on the arm of the child. rush had to tear the girl's dress in order to wrench jarvis's grip free of her. in so doing steve lost the life ring. it was carried away from him in a twinkling. now he had two persons on his hands with the seas rolling over him almost mountain high, though the ship, being on the windward side, protected them somewhat. "haul in and cast the ring!" steve managed to shout, just before he was jammed choking under a heavy wave. rush threw himself on his back with his head toward the ship, one arm under marie and the other arm supporting bob, who was making desperate efforts to help himself, though unable to do much in that direction. then rush began kicking himself slowly toward the vessel, which had been shifted about and was once more drifting down on them. "cast your lines before you get close enough to hit us!" steve cried when he could do so without getting a mouthful of water. unfortunately those on deck were not very good shots at this sort of target work and their life rings went far wide of the mark. the ropes on all but one of them slipped through the hands of the casters and dropped into the sea. "lubbers!" roared the captain from the pilot-house window. steve caught the third ring. twisting the rope about the body of marie just under her arms, he tore the ring loose. "haul up, quick!" he shouted, swimming along with the child after having thrust the life ring over the head of bob jarvis. steve held to the girl so that she should not be thrown against the ship head first, which would have seriously injured her at least, and perhaps killed her then and there. possibly the little girl was dead already. rush did not know, but he thought he had detected life when he first grasped her. "hurry, hurry!" he cried. the girl was hauled free of the water, and, limp and lifeless, she was tenderly lifted over the rail. captain simms, after hurling some brief directions at the man at the wheel, dashed from the pilot-house, down the steps and along the deck to the stern, where marie lay on the deck. the father lost no time in getting at work on her. "save those boys if it costs the ship to do it!" he roared. "major, use your wits! get them out, i tell you. i'll hold you personally responsible for their rescue!" "rush is hit!" shouted a voice excitedly. looking over they saw steve striking out blindly to where bob was floating away helplessly on the sea. it was plain that rush had been stunned by being thrown against the side of the ship. still, by sheer pluck, he was keeping himself up and swimming, but with evident effort, toward his companion. bob was in a helpless condition and every second the life ring was slipping up and threatening to bob out from under his head. were that to happen there was little chance that he would be saved. steve tried to shout to them, but his voice would not come. he swallowed enough water in these attempts to drown the ordinary person. his eyes were so full of water and he was so dazed from the bump he had sustained, that he could not make out where jarvis was. "port! port!" roared a voice from the deck. steve caught the direction and veered a little to port. "more port. can you keep it up?" rush did not answer, for he was beyond answering. only his wonderful pluck and endurance were keeping him from throwing up his hands and sinking under the surface. with a final burst of speed he reached his companion. steve threw out one hand and fastened on the other iron boy. as he did so the ring slipped from jarvis's head and floated away. rush realized at once what had happened, and began upbraiding himself for his carelessness. the knowledge seemed to give him new strength. his body fairly leaped from the water as he took several powerful strokes toward the drowning bob. "wake up!" cried steve, shaking his companion roughly. jarvis mumbled in reply, and tried feebly to help himself, but he was too weak and too full of water to accomplish anything. steve, by a great effort, twisted his companion about and began swimming toward the ship with him. shouts and suggestions were hurled at him from the ship, but he did not hear them. the iron boy was making the fight of his life. at last, after mighty struggles, he managed to get near enough to the "richmond" to catch a line that was tossed to him. this he quickly made fast about jarvis's waist and waved a hand to indicate that the men above were to haul away. steve lay over on his back on the water with a great sigh of relief as the men began hauling the other boy toward the deck. "get a line over there to rush!" thundered the captain. "don't you see the boy is drowning?" but steve missed every line that was tossed to him. he was making powerful efforts to pull himself together sufficiently to save himself, but he could not do so. "take care of the child, major. keep pumping the water out of her. she'll be all right in a moment," cried the captain. "give me a line, quick!" before the brave skipper could carry out his purpose of climbing over the rail preparatory to dropping into the lake, another man swiftly leaped to the rail and let himself drop feet first. he carried two lines with him. "it's smith, the stoker!" cried a chorus of voices. it was indeed the stoker, the enemy of the iron boys, who had determined to avenge himself on them for the insults he believed they had heaped upon him. what sudden revulsion of feeling led the stoker to risk his life to save that of steve rush none ever knew, nor would he ever afterwards discuss it. smith was a powerful fellow, a man who feared nothing and besides, he was a strong swimmer. he pounced upon rush as if he were about to do him bodily injury. it was the work of but a moment to make fast the line about the boy's body. "get him up, and be quick!" yelled the stoker. a cheer rose from the deck; two men at this time were working over bob, while the captain, having returned to his daughter, was ministering to her. steve was hauled aboard, where he settled down in a heap. the sailors turned him face downward, and then some one happened to think of the stoker. smith was keeping himself from being jammed against the side of the ship by holding both hands against the side of it and hurling angry imprecations at those on deck who had apparently forgotten his existence. "smi--smith--get him!" muttered steve. "put a ladder over the side! lash it to the rail and give the man a line with which to steady himself!" commanded the captain. "come, come! have you all lost your senses?" his orders were carried out with a snap, and a moment later the dripping figure of smith appeared above the level of the deck. "you're a fine lot of lubbers," growled the stoker. "you let a man go overboard and then forget he's there. i ought to throw the bunch of you overboard." "take those boys to their cabins as soon as you get the water out of them," ordered captain simms. "no, no; i'm all right," protested steve, pulling himself together and staggering away from the men who were thumping him with their closed fists, hoping in that way to bring him back to himself. the stoker had betaken himself to the fire room to dry off. his face had once more regained its surly, hang-dog expression, and he made rough answers to the few questions that were put to him by his fellow-workers in the stoke-hole. at last the workers succeeded in shaking most of the water out of bob jarvis. he had swallowed a lot of it and was so weak that he could not stand. at steve's suggestion they carried bob around on the lee side of the after deck-house. the steward came running out with a bottle of brandy, some of which he sought to pour down between the boy's blue lips. jarvis thrust the bottle aside, half angrily. "none--none of that horrible stuff for me! i--i'd rather be full of lake superior water and--and _that's_ the limit----" steve stooped over, and placing his hands under the other boy's arms, lifted him to his feet. "brace up! you're all right now," encouraged rush. "yes. i'm all right, _only_----" the sailors laughed at this; then they shouted, more from relief from the strain under which they had been laboring than because of the humor of jarvis's reply. "want to go in and lie down now?" questioned steve, barely able to keep his feet. "no!" "then we'll walk and see if we can get our sea legs," proposed steve, slipping an arm about his companion's waist and starting slowly toward the stern. the boys could hardly keep their feet, they were still so weak. they staggered from one side of the passage to the other, but their iron grit kept them up. "how is little marie?" demanded jarvis, suddenly turning to rush. "come; we will go and see. we were forgetting our duty," muttered steve, starting for the cabin, where the little girl had been taken. chapter xxi a new hand at the wheel marie had entirely recovered consciousness when the lads entered the steward's cabin. but the child's face was chalky white, her lips colorless and her eyes dull. captain simms had sent for his wife, who, ill in her stateroom, had not known of the exciting events that were taking place at the other end of the ship. mrs. simms forgot all about her seasickness when summoned and told what had happened. marie's eyes lighted up when they rested on the dripping forms of the iron boys. "hello, kiddie," greeted jarvis. "how'd you like your swim?" "come and kiss me," answered the child simply. jarvis blushed, but braced himself. then, stooping over, he gently kissed the little one on the cheek. "you, too, steve," she nodded with compelling eyes. then steve rush kissed her, patted her cheek and straightened up to meet the arms of the captain's wife. "you saved her life," she murmured. "i beg your pardon, mrs. simms; it's bob jarvis whom you should thank. he's the real hero this time. i'm only a sort of assistant hero," said steve with a laugh. the captain tried to speak, but something seemed to stick in his throat. he gulped, swallowed, then grasping both boys by the shoulders thrust them from the cabin. "get out! get out you young rascals before i give you a sound thumping!" he exploded, as the iron boys, laughing heartily, were ejected to the deck. "that's a fine way to show a fellow's appreciation," snorted bob. "do you know where that kiddie was going when she was swept overboard? i mean, before she was swept over?" "coming aft?" "yes; she was coming aft. she was coming aft to make a cake for you and me, that's what she was doing. she told me she was going to bake one for us to-day and she had the stuff in her hands that she was going to put into the cake. it's a shame," added jarvis, his voice pitched a little higher than usual. "yes, but not half so bad as if we hadn't saved her, old man. i'm proud of you, bob jarvis." "you needn't be. i was the easiest kind of a mark. i would have drowned if it hadn't been for you." "and both of us would undoubtedly have gone down had it not been for the stoker, smith. what do you make of that, bob?" jarvis halted reflectively. "i think," announced the lad wisely, "that he was--was--what do you say a fellow is suffering from when he goes dippy up here?" tapping the top of his head. "temporary aberration?" "that's it. i wish i could think of things ready-made, the way you do. well, i believe he must have been suffering from that. he'll be wanting to lick us again the minute he sets eyes on us." "here he comes now. he's just come up from his watch. oh, smith!" the stoker halted, then started on again. steve grasped his arm. the fellow shook the lad loose. "see here, we want to talk to you." smith halted reluctantly. "i want to take back every unpleasant thing i have ever said to you. at the same time i want to apologize for what i have done. i've been in the wrong all the time, i guess. will you shake hands?" the stoker hesitated, shifted uneasily, all the time avoiding looking into the eyes of the iron boys. finally he thrust out a reluctant hand. steve grabbed it and bob caught up the other. the stoker, muttering half sullenly, broke away and ran into the deck-house, leaving the boys standing outside looking at each other. "well, that beats anything i ever saw," growled bob. "do you know," said steve reflectively, "i believe that fellow has been a criminal of some sort. the way his eyes avoid yours, his shifty, hang-dog manner, reminds me of certain other gentlemen whom i have seen. however, after what he has done for us, it is not for you and me to try to get him into any further trouble. he saved our lives and that's all there is about it so far as we are concerned. i don't believe he will try any more tricks on us. he is the man who hit me on deck here the other night. i'm just as sure of it as i am that we are standing here now. captain simms gave him an awful walloping. maybe that's what beat some sense into the fellow's head." all the rest of the day marie remained in bed. the captain, who had gone back to the pilot-house after carrying the child to his own quarters, made frequent trips below to see how she was getting on. she was doing so well that she wanted to get up and play. the rest of the day passed without incident, though the gale, if anything, grew worse. the air was filled with flying spray that reached high up on the masts. the wireless operator picked up messages from other ships that had sought safe harbor on the lee side of the islands along the lake, but thus far there had been no reports of disasters. the captain had warned the operator to be on the sharp lookout for appeals for help. to the satisfaction of all no cries for help came. the boys went about their duties, rush taking another trick at the wheel late in the afternoon, leaving it along toward eight bells, midnight. bob, in this instance, relieved him. the night was starless and intensely dark and the hurling spray made necessary a sharp lookout ahead. two men were stationed on the bridge and another in the forepeak to watch for lights, though the captain did not look for many that night. he knew that at least all the timid skippers, had scudded for calm water at the first signs of a big blow. believing that all was safe he went to bed, and the ship went rolling and plunging, lurching and tumbling on her way, creaking and groaning as though the effort caused her great pain. shortly before daylight, bob fancying that he heard some one entering the pilot-house, glanced at the open door on the lee side. at first he saw nothing. then all of a sudden a huge, shadowy form seemed to rise from the floor at that point. bob gazed in amazement. "what's that, mr. major?" he asked sharply. "where?" demanded the mate, leaning out and looking forward. "there, there, at the door?" "i don't see anything." "neither do i, now, but i did a moment ago. i----" bob received a blow from a huge paw that tipped him over sideways, tumbling him over. "help!" yelled the boy, bolting for the door. about this time the first mate, who had run around to the rear of the steering wheel, got a blow on the side of the head that laid him low. he, too, scrambled to his feet and dashed for the door, slamming it shut after him. "what's the trouble in there?" shouted one of the bridge watch, poking his head in at the window. he had heard some sort of disturbance in the pilot-house, he thought, but the wind being so strong he was unable to decide what the disturbance was about. there was no answer to his question. "i say----" he shouted; then something happened to him. a huge paw was stretched out through the forward pilot-house window. it came down on the head of the watch with a whack, laying him flat on the deck. the second watch ran to where his companion had fallen. "here, here, what's the mat----" the watch did not finish the sentence. a cuff on the ear, and a mighty cuff at that, sent him clear to the end of the bridge, and had the weather cloths not been in place he would undoubtedly have been knocked through between the rails and into the sea. both men set up a wild yell of fear. "it's some kind of animal!" shouted bob. "send for the captain. i'm going back to the wheel." summoning all his courage the lad opened the pilot-house door, peering cautiously in. he got a blow that knocked him over backwards and bob jarvis tumbled all the way down the stairs to the main deck. captain simms came rushing out of his cabin in his pajamas. he had heard the running on the deck above him and surmising that something had gone wrong, rushed out to the deck. "what's wrong? what's wrong?" he bellowed, casting a quick glance ahead, almost expecting to see another ship bearing down upon them. "i say, what's happened?" "help!" howled the distant voice of bob jarvis from the lower deck. "help, help!" yelled the two men on the bridge watch in chorus. "captain!" roared first mate major, bounding down the stairs to where the captain was standing. the skipper grabbed the mate by the arm and shook him violently. "here, here! what's wrong? have all of you lubbers gone mad?" "it--it's in the pilot-house!" gasped the now thoroughly frightened mate. "what's in the pilot-house?" demanded captain simms angrily. "nobody--i mean i don't know. it's a----" but the skipper waited to hear no more. he rushed up the stairs, two steps at a jump. reaching the bridge deck he sprang for the door of the pilot-house and jerked it open. as he did so his keen eyes caught sight of a huge, shadowy figure at the wheel. the strange, uncouth shape was twirling the wheel merrily, while the ship was diving this way and that in a most unusual and erratic manner. the figure at the wheel suddenly bolted forward, making a grab for captain simms. quite a portion of the skipper's pajamas were left in the grip of the strange object, causing the captain to retire hastily, slamming the door as he did so. "it's the bear! the bear has escaped!" he shouted. "the bear?" yelled several voices. "yes, the bear in that crate in the lazaret. we were taking it down for mr. carrhart, to be shipped to a friend of his in pittsburgh." "wow!" cried jarvis, who had been creeping up the stairs. he turned and bolted down again with all speed. chapter xxii leading a lively chase "the bear has escaped!" shouted a voice down on the main deck. "what bear?" "the one that was in the lazaret." "didn't know there was any bear there. you're kidding," answered the doubting sailor. "go up and take a peep into the wheel-house, if you don't believe it. you'll get a bang on the side of the head that will make your ears ring eight bells for the rest of the night." "i--i guess i'll take your word for it." the sailor turned and ran for the deck-house. steve rush, aroused by the shouting, got up and poked his head from the cabin window. "hey, what's happening?" he called. jarvis was on his way back to tell his chum the news. "old bruin has escaped." "who's he?" "an old party we had cooped in a crate in the lazar----" "a bear?" "you bet he's a bear. he waved a paw at me that knocked me clean out of the pilot-house." "wait, i'll be out in a minute." steve hurried into his clothes, and a few minutes later was out on the rolling deck. he could barely make out the lights of the forward deck-house through the mist of spray that hung over the ship like a cloud. "where is he?" cried the iron boy. "up there in the house." "but who is steering the ship?" "i guess the bear is. nobody else up there except the captain, jumping around the bridge-deck in his pajamas, mad as a hatter." steve, deciding that he would like a closer look, hurried to the bridge. there he found captain simms in a plight if anything more ludicrous than had been painted by bob jarvis. rush saw that the ship was reeling about like a crazy sailor. "do something, somebody!" roared the skipper. "what would you suggest?" questioned steve, taking a peep through an open window and narrowly missing getting his eyes scratched out as a hairy paw reached through the window with a downward, raking sweep. captain simms forgot his anger long enough to laugh at the agility with which rush leaped backward, falling over a steel cleat, coming up grinning but very red of face. "that's what the beast did to me, only he got too much of my clothes for comfort," remarked the skipper. it was steve's turn to laugh, which he did uproariously. "maybe you think it's funny, but you wouldn't if you were in my place. the next question is how are we going to get that beast from the iron range out of the pilot-house?" "i'll tell you," said bob, who had followed his companion up to the bridge. "we'll coax him out with a chunk of fresh meat." "will you hold the meat?" answered the master sharply. "no, thank you," laughed jarvis. "your idea isn't half bad. i believe i will get a piece of meat and try it," replied rush reflectively. "see here, young man. not quite so fast. what do you propose to do with the beast when you get him out?" "i--i--hadn't thought of that," stammered rush. "i suppose you'd let him dance about the decks and run us all overboard, eh? no, sir. he stays where he is. you keep watch of him while i go down stairs and get some clothing on. this summer costume is a little too airy for this kind of a night." the two boys watched the pilot-house from a safe distance while the captain went below. day was beginning to dawn, and by the faint light they could see mr. bruin spinning the pilot-wheel this way and that. he seemed as pleased as a child with a new toy. the compass card, with its dim white spot showing the position of the ship, attracted his attention. brain scratched on the glass over the compass card and getting no satisfaction from so doing, returned to the wheel. such steering probably never had been seen on the great lakes before. all at once five shrill blasts sounded dead ahead. "there comes a steamer!" yelled bob. "we'll run it down!" shouted steve. "hey, captain!" the up-coming steamer knew that something was wrong and her deck officer was sounding a danger signal. it looked as if a collision could not be avoided. steve ran around to the front of the pilot-house, and rang in the signal "full speed astern" on the bridge telegraph. then the "richmond" did cut up. bruin was still steering as fancy dictated, the bow of the ship wobbling this way and that. illustration: a huge form stood at the wheel. in the meantime the captain of the other steamer was trying his best to get his craft out of the way of the wobbling "richmond." "sheer off! sheer off!" bellowed the skipper of the up-boat. "you'll cut us in two." the boys thought so as well, but there was nothing they could do save wait for results and trust to luck. bang! the nose of the "richmond" caught the other boat a glancing blow and bounced off. the sides of the two ships bumped together, then the stern of the "richmond" side-swiped the stranger with a smash that sent everything jingling on the two ships, while the skipper of the up-craft was dancing up and down the deck of his vessel, heaping abuse upon captain simms and his "fool crew." "we must get that beast out, at all costs," raged the master of the "richmond." just then bruin leaned back from the window and against the whistle lever. instantly a roar, accompanied by a cloud of steam, burst from the whistle at the after end of the boat. the roaring of the siren did not cease. it kept right up and mr. bear glanced about uneasily as if suspecting that the noise was directed against him. about this time the chief engineer rushed to the deck. "stop that blowing. you'll blow all the steam out of the boilers!" he commanded, shouting up to the bridge. "suppose you come up and stop it yourself," suggested jarvis, grinning over the rail. "we shall have to try that meat plan, i guess, boys," decided the master. "how shall we do it without playing the part of the meat?" "i have a plan," answered steve. "bob, if you will get a piece of meat i will see what i can do in the meantime." bob hurried aft for the fresh meat while steve busied himself by preparing a rope which he placed at the foot of the stairs on the lower deck. by this time, jarvis had returned with the meat, the captain having watched the arrangement with nods of approval. "please have some men stationed under cover of the deck-house below us and have a tarpaulin, one of the canvas hatch covers, handy, will you?" asked rush. "certainly. jarvis tell the mate to do as steve suggests. i will open the door of the pilot-house when you are ready." in the meantime bruin had left the whistle lever and lumbered to the starboard window where he stood observing the preparations for his capture. his nose was upraised sniffing the air, for he smelled the fresh meat. "look out that he doesn't jump out of the window," warned bob. "i hardly think he will. it is quite a drop," answered rush. "now, captain, if you will open the door, i think we are ready," he added, taking the meat from the hands of his companion. "you don't need me now, do you, steve?" "well not just this minute," laughed rush. bob ran up the rope ladder of the foremast, and from this point of safety he grinned his enjoyment of the scene. captain simms threw open the pilot-house door; then he also shinned up the ladder. the bear was ambling toward steve at a rapid gait. but the iron boy did not appear to be at all frightened. he slid down the stairs to the forward deck, waited until the bear was almost upon him, then dropped to the main or lower deck. bruin was after him without loss of time. reaching the lower deck, steve dropped the fresh meat in the big loop of rope that he had spread out on the deck, and quickly darted behind a hatch. the bear seized the meat with an ugly growl. steve gave the rope, one end of which was in his hands, a violent jerk and the next second the bear was floundering about the deck, fighting, pawing and uttering fierce growls, with the noose of steve's rope drawn down tight over one of the animal's fore-legs. steve took a twist around a stanchion. "the tarpaulin!" he shouted. not a man made a move to do the lad's bidding. "bob! come down here. i want you! quick!" "i'm coming." jarvis was down the ladder in short order. "what shall we do now?" "grab hold of this canvas and help me throw it over the beast." "but he'll bite," protested bob. "he will if we do not get him secured pretty soon. hurry, there!" each taking hold of a corner of the big, heavy canvas the lads approached the big beast with caution. "now, he-o!" they swung the tarpaulin back and forth to give it momentum, bruin stretching out quick paws in an effort to grab the canvas, at the same time showing his teeth and uttering fierce growls. "let go!" shouted rush. the canvas fell completely over the beast, the centre of the covering dropping directly on his head. mr. bear began to claw and roar, but the more he clawed the more entangled did he become. the crew uttered a cheer. "hurry up, men! give me a hand or he'll get away from us yet!" steve threw himself upon the writhing heap, with jarvis a close second. but no sooner had the boys landed on the canvas than they were tossed off. back they sprang, making plucky efforts to twist the canvas into position where the animal could not throw it off. by this time captain simms was down the ladders and stairs, making for the writhing heap on the jump. "get in there, you lubbers!" he roared. the men obeyed his command, though they did so with reluctance. "fall on the heap!" after a lively battle, consuming some twenty minutes, the escaped bear was hopelessly entangled in the tarpaulin, the corners of which were tied securely, thus imprisoning him beyond the possibility of his getting out. "the next question is, what are we going to do with him, now that we have him?" inquired the captain. "is his crate broken so that it cannot be fixed?" asked rush. "no; it can be fixed up," interjected the chief engineer. "hurry up and attend to it, macrae." in a few minutes the crate was ready. steve engineered the following efforts, as he had those that had gone before. the bear was dragged back to the stern. there the men waited while steve put another large chunk of meat in the cage. "all ready, men. throw him down the stairs. be sure that you get him down, or he'll be after us and then we shall have our hands full," shouted steve. "it strikes me we already have," muttered the captain, gazing admiringly at the efforts of the iron boy. "you ought to join a menagerie," suggested jarvis. "all ready now," warned steve. "all ready," answered the men. steve cast a final look about, taking careful note of the knots which were ready to be unfastened at the word. "let go!" he shouted. with a roar mr. bruin went rolling, bumping and scratching down the stairs into the lazaret. steve crept down the stairs. "everyone stay back," he warned. none needed the advice. none of the ship's company felt the least inclination to climb into that dark hole where the angry bear was floundering about. "throw on a light," called rush. a solitary light gleamed in the darkness of the lazaret. about that time the bear smelled the fresh meat in the cage. with a grunt and a growl he went in search of it, nosing here and there. at last he found it. steve, crouching on the stairway was watching the beast with keen eyes. the bear entered the cage. with a bound rush dropped to the floor of the lazaret. bang! the door of the cage swung to, the padlock securing it, quickly slipped through the staple and locked. mr. bear was a prisoner. "there, you may all come down now, children," called the iron boy. "is he in?" demanded a voice at the head of the stairs. "he is. bruin is having the rest of his breakfast now." "three cheers for steve rush," cried the captain, pulling off his cap. "hip-hip-hurrah!" yelled the sailors. "hip-hip-hurrah! hip-hip-hurrah! t-i-g-e-r!" added bob jarvis. steve came up from the lower deck, his face flushed with triumph. "well, we got him, didn't we?" he demanded. "you mean _you_ got him," answered the captain. "we all got him." "it is my opinion," added the skipper, "that you ought to be the captain of this boat. you've got more horse sense than all the rest of us together." chapter xxiii the wireless message for the rest of that day the ship had a measure of quiet, just for a change. the storm kept on with its former severity and there was more or less discomfort. meals had to be eaten standing up, and life lines had been run along the deck to support the one who ventured along the decks forward or aft. marie was not allowed to leave her father's cabin again while the storm lasted. considerable time had been lost, owing to the trouble caused by the bear, so the ship was put to full speed. of late the boys had taken the keenest sort of interest in the wireless outfit with which the ship was equipped. they spent much of their leisure time with the wireless operator. steve had learned part of the morse alphabet and occasionally he tried to operate the key. two days later, as they were sitting in the wireless room, where the operator, with feet on his desk, was telling them a story of a wreck that he had been in on the atlantic when he was operator on a liner, a flash from the switchboard told them that they had picked up a wireless from another ship or station. the operator quickly adjusted the receiver over his head, listened a moment then threw his key open. a few quick sentences were crashed forth, the aërials above the deck of the ship snapping out the message in sundry vicious cracklings. steve tried to catch the drift of what was being said, but it was too fast for him. he could not hear what the operator was receiving, but after a while the operator picked up his pencil and began writing industriously. glancing over the man's shoulder steve's eyes caught a few words that caused him to lean forward with renewed interest. then he sat back, possessing himself in patience until the message should have been finished. "that's strange," said the operator, laying down his head piece. "what is it?" questioned bob. "nothing much. it is just a message i picked up about some fellow that the police want." "well, it isn't i, that's sure," said jarvis with a confident laugh. "it is--but here, read it for yourself." steve read the message out loud. "'wanted: one, gus collins, for complicity in a post-office robbery at elgin on the night of june third. collins has been a sailor and is said to be on one of the ships on the lakes. about five feet ten in height, gray eyes, blonde hair. has a peculiar stoop to his shoulders, and a habit of peering up suspiciously, but not meeting the eyes of the person he is talking to. five hundred dollars reward offered for his capture by the post-office department.'" "i'd like to make that five hundred," laughed jarvis. steve did not reply at once. his face was serious. he was thinking. "well, there is one thing certain, mr. gus collins isn't on this ship," announced the operator, hanging up his headstall. "funny message to send out. skippers of these boats have something else to do besides hunting down criminals for the post-office department." rush nodded thoughtfully. somehow, the description of the man seemed to strike a familiar chord in him. he could not help feeling that he had seen some one who in a measure answered that description. "ever seen him, bob?" questioned the lad. jarvis shook his head. "wouldn't have recognized him if i had seen him. say!" "well?" "maybe the bear is collins in disguise." there was a laugh at this. rush read the message over again. "shall i take it up to the captain?" "yes, if you will." steve did so. captain simms read the alarm message through twice. "pshaw!" he grunted. "let the government find its own criminals. it doesn't hire me to be a policeman. how's the bear?" "i haven't heard him complain any since we put him back," answered steve with a grin. "how did he get out, do you think?" "the cage tipped over in a roll of the ship. no more wild animal shows on this ship. are you going to try to earn that five hundred dollars?" demanded the skipper, changing the subject abruptly. "i had not thought of doing so. you do not think he is on your ship, do you?" "if he was you'd catch him, even if you had to bait him with raw beef. say, are you going to stay with me?" "why, i am not thinking of leaving, captain simms." "i don't mean now. of course, you wouldn't leave me in the middle of the season. you're too square for that. i mean at the end of the season?" "of course, we shall have to work during the winter. we can't afford to lie around in idleness." "yes, of course. but what about next season?" "that is a long way off," smiled rush. "will you come back with me next year?" "i could not promise. frankly, captain, i wish i might stay with you. i like the life and i should be happy to spend the rest of my days on the water, were it not for one fact." "what is that?" "there isn't much of a future to the lake business." captain simms nodded. "nothing beyond being a captain. that's the stone wall we butt against sooner or later, if we are lucky enough to get that far. i don't blame you, but i am sorry. i was in hopes you would stay with us another season." "this season is young yet. perhaps you may be glad to get rid of me before the end of it," laughed rush. "no danger of that. but i am going to make it worth your while to stay, you see if i don't. tell the operator to send back word, to the man that sent out this message, that we haven't got any safe crackers on board the 'richmond.'" "very well, sir." steve picked up the message and left the cabin. he walked thoughtfully aft to his own state room, where he found jarvis getting ready to go on duty. rush sat down to study the description of the much-wanted criminal. "i can't get it out of my mind that i know that man." he muttered. "i know i have seen him somewhere. but where? pshaw! why should i trouble myself about the matter? i'm no policeman, and i don't want to earn any money at the price of another man's liberty." "what's the matter--gone crazy?" demanded jarvis, eyeing his companion suspiciously. "they say it's a sure sign, when a fellow gets the habit of talking to himself." rush laughed heartily. "then both of us must be in the same boat, for i heard you mumbling to yourself this very day." "when?" "at the time the bear was chasing you." "huh!" "bob, listen." steve read out the message, slowly, giving emphasis to that part describing the man wanted by the government. "think hard, now. isn't there some one whom you have seen that answers that description, the stooping shoulders, the peculiar way of glancing up from under the half-closed eyelids----" "nobody but smith." "smith!" rush gazed at the other boy blankly. "that's so; he does rather answer the description." "of course he isn't the man." "perhaps not." all the rest of the day steve thought over the contents of that message and the suggestion made by jarvis. he did not see the stoker, however, until the following morning, just as steve was coming off duty. "morning, smith," greeted the lad, bending a scrutinizing gaze on the surly fireman. "morning," mumbled the other. "by the way, old chap; were you ever in elgin?" smith gave the lad a quick, sharp look. "what are you getting at?" "do you know a man named collins--gus collins?" persisted the iron boy. "co--co--collins?" "yes, a fellow who was interested in cracking a post-office safe out in elgin----" "it's a lie!" exploded the stoker, straightening up suddenly, his face flushing and his features working convulsively. "ah! then you do know something about this man, collins, eh?" "ye--no, i don't know anything about him. i've heard of him, that's all. now you let me alone, or----" "smith, you saved my life. i'm not such a cur as to forget that. i think you have something to say to----" "i ain't got anything to say to you." "oh, yes, you have. come with me to my cabin, where we can talk without interruption. it may be worth your while." "i won't go!" smith raised a hand as if he would strike the boy whose finger-tips were resting on the stoker's shoulder. "you come with me!" commanded steve, placing a firmer grip on the shoulder of the stoker. in that way, and without further resistance, steve led him to his own stateroom. "sit down! now tell me all about it." the fireman's face was sullen and rebellious. "there--there ain't nothing to tell," answered the man in a low, half-angry voice. "you are gus collins! i know you, now. i was sure i had seen the man whose description was sent out by the police and the government officials." the stoker's face went ghastly. "yes, i am. now what are you going to do about it?" he demanded, rising to his full height, standing over rush in a threatening attitude. "i am going to talk with you for the present. i think i have a right to do that, and see if there isn't something i can do for you after all you have done for me. sit down, gus." with a bewildered look on his face, the stoker sank into the chair. "tell me the whole story, gus," urged rush gently. "you need not be afraid of me. i am your friend, no matter what you have done." for a full five minutes collins did not speak. it was plain to the keen-eyed boy before him that the man was battling with himself and was trying to decide what his course of action should be. "did you have any part in the robbery of that post-office?" urged steve. "_no!_" fairly shouted the stoker. "then you have nothing to fear." "yes, i have, too. i've got everything to fear. i'm a bad man, and----" "perhaps you were, but you have wiped that all out by your heroic act in----" "boy, i've served time in joliet. i'm an ex-convict. i stole something once when i didn't know what i was doing. they put me away for five years for that little job. while i was in prison my temper got the best of me one day, and i hurt a man, and----" "you don't mean you----" "no, i didn't kill him, but i was used worse than a little yellow dog after that. what little good there was in me was beaten out of me, and--never let your temper get the best of you, boy. it's an awful thing to have a temper like mine." steve nodded. "well, i got out. my time was up." "when was that?" "this spring. i was dogged from the time i left the prison until one day i managed to give them the slip, and----" "you mean the police were following you?" "yes; spotting me." "what for?" "to see that i didn't get into any mischief. the last time they saw me i was in elgin. i left on the six o'clock train, after throwing the spotters off. that night the post-office there was cracked. i read about it in the papers next day, and i knew they'd put it on me. i got clear of the place as soon as possible, shipped up the lakes from chicago; then got in with this crowd. now i'll be sent back to joliet again." "perhaps not; not if you are innocent." "i am as innocent as you are, steve rush. help me, boy! help me to get away. they'll nail me this time, sure. they've got the line drawn on me fair and square. they sent out that alarm you've got in your hands there. help me to get away in the small boat to-night and i'll make shore and disappear. i'll fool them. i did you a good turn. do a great one for me, now!" "yes, gus; i will do you a turn, but i won't help you to escape. that would be a foolish thing to do. the police would get you sooner or later, and your flight would be the very worst thing possible for you when they did get you." "you won't help me?" "no, not in that way." "how then?" "i shall have to think it over, but if you are innocent, have no fears, for you shall be freed of the accusation. i must talk with the captain----" collins started to protest. "no one else on board shall know of it except my friend, jarvis, and he is true-blue. when we have you freed i will see to it that you get a berth on this or some other boat, for life, if you want it." collins shook his head. "no; they'll fire me when they find out i've done time. nobody wants an ex-convict. they drive a man to the dogs after once he's fallen----" "here's one man who won't drive you, gus collins. here's one man who's going to stand right back of you and see that you get fair play. then you're going to hold your head up and be a man with other men. you leave it all to me, will you? will you promise to do so?" collins eyed the bronzed, manly face before him, for a full moment; then he stretched out an impulsive hand. "put it there, little pard! i'll stand up, even if i do time for it, if it'll please you any. you're the pluckiest, the squarest bunch of muscle that i've ever come up with!" chapter xxiv conclusion steve rush had told the whole story to captain simms, to all of which the captain listened in deep interest. "well, what do you propose to do about it?" questioned the skipper, with a quizzical smile. "if you will give me a leave of absence, i think i should like to go back to elgin with collins and help to get him free," announced steve. "don't monkey with fire. a crook's a crook, and----" "this one _will_ be, if he is sent up again. i propose to get him out, even if it takes all the rest of the summer to do it." "all right. go ahead, lad, but for goodness' sake wait until we get the bear out of this ship," laughed the captain. the result was that as soon as the "richmond" reached its destination on lake erie, steve and the stoker, both dressed in their best, slipped ashore and took a train for chicago. early the next forenoon they presented themselves at the police station in the town where the robbery had occurred, steve acting as spokesman and stating that collins had heard he was wanted and had come to give himself up, prepared to prove his innocence. of course the stoker was locked up. the man was sullen once more, and when the iron doors clanged behind him he gave up all hope. "they've got me! i was a fool!" he muttered. shortly after that steve visited him, and when the boy left the man collins was in a better frame of mind. rush got to work at once. he must find some one who would remember to have seen gus leaving town. suddenly an idea occurred to the boy. he visited the railroad station. from one official to another he traveled, asking questions and getting scant courtesy. everyone's hand appeared to be against him when the owner learned the object of rush's mission. it was not until the next day that he found the man for whom he was looking. that was the conductor of the train on which collins had taken passage when he left the town the evening of the robbery, and several hours before it occurred. he had obtained from collins a description of the clothes the latter wore on that night, and where he sat in the train, establishing the fact that the man's soft hat, tipped up behind, was pulled well down over his face, and that he wore a red necktie. armed with this description, steve visited the conductor at the latter's home. at first the conductor did not seem to remember, but when steve mentioned the felt hat, the red necktie and the stoop of the man's shoulders in connection with the furtive glancing up from beneath the eyelids, the railroad man, slapped his thigh violently. "of course i remember him. i'd know him if i saw him. he had a scar on his right cheek----" "that's the man," cut in rush triumphantly. "come over to the station with me and identify him. you will prevent a grave injustice being done if you will assist me in this matter." the conductor readily picked out gus collins as the man whom he had seen on his train proceeding the robbery. a few days later the conductor was summoned before the grand jury, at steve's instigation, where he repeated his story in detail. steve gave evidence also as to what he knew about the man, repeating the interview he had had with the stoker on board the ship. the result was that gus collins stepped from his cell a free man that evening. he said little, but he seemed unable to keep his eyes from the face of the boy who had saved him from prison. collins knew that nothing could have saved him had it not been for the iron boy, but somehow he could not find it possible to express his thankfulness. "we will go back to duluth," said the lad. "we shall not be able to catch the ship down this way i guess. anyhow, a few days' layoff will not hurt us in the least." "what are you going to do with me now?" demanded the fireman, finding his voice at last. "i shall take good care of you. forget all that's past. you are a man now, and you are going to be a man henceforth. quit brooding over your troubles. you haven't any. they were all washed out of you in the lake the day you went in after me. i have something in mind for you that i think will please you." reaching duluth, steve sought mr carrhart at once and to the president the lad told the whole story. "what do you want, my lad--what do you wish me to do for your friend?" asked the president kindly. rush told him in a few words. the result was that mr. carrhart gave the boy a letter to the superintendent, telling steve to return for an interview after he had finished with the collins' business. it was a proud and happy steve who sought out gus collins an hour later, at the hotel where the man and the boy were stopping. "well, what about it?" demanded the stoker, without the least trace of hopefulness in his tone. "you are to report for duty on the 'richmond' as soon as she gets in." "oh!" collins' face brightened. "here's your appointment," added steve, handing over a document with the imprint of the steamship company at its head. collins read it through, changed color then stared at steve. "is this some kind of a joke you're playing on me?" "it is no joke, gus. you are appointed foreman of the stoke-room of the ore carrier 'richmond,' and you'll save more coal for the company than any other stoker who ever bossed a fire-room." collins sat down heavily. the tears were blinding his eyes. steve did not try to stop them. he realized that they marked the turning point in what had been a hard life, a life that had bidden fair to be wholly wrecked in the name of justice. but what steve rush in his unselfishness did not realize, was that he had saved a human soul. the interview with mr. carrhart took place that afternoon. "yes, sir; i think i have a few suggestions to make," answered steve in reply to a question from the president. "but first i should like to ask some questions of you." "proceed." steve asked the average cost of operating the ships of the fleet per month; what the ships earned by carrying coal for other concerns on the return trips, together with a number of other shrewd and pointed questions. all of these mr. carrhart answered freely, knowing that the boy's reasons for asking them were in the interest of his investigations. rush made some rapid calculations on a pad on the president's desk. "you have some two hundred ships in the line, i believe, sir?" "yes; two hundred and ten." "would it be any saving if you could save an hour in the unloading of these ships--two hundred and ten hours, in other words, every time the whole fleet made a trip down the lakes?" "well, i should say it would." "that is easy." "explain." "simply put on an extra unloader for each dock, so that both may work at the same time." mr. carrhart considered. he, too, made some calculations. "yes, that is an excellent suggestion. it will mark a very great saving in the transportation cost. candidly, the idea never occurred to me. you have earned your salary for one year at least," added the president with an indulgent smile. "i felt sure you would dig up something of value to us, to say nothing of the value the experience would be to you." "i'm not through yet," laughed the iron boy. "i'm going to show you how you can save something like thirty thousand dollars a year more on the carrying proposition." "why, rush, you amaze me. it cannot be possible, after figuring down all transportations the way the experts of this company have done and been doing for years." "the old saying is to the effect that figures never lie. perhaps mine do. if so, you will be able to discover the untruth at once." "may i ask how you propose to work this great saving?" asked the president good-naturedly. "send your boats back light." "send them back light?" "yes, sir; in water ballast." "but, my boy, don't you understand that it will mean the loss of a lot of money to do that? the ships earn a great many thousands of dollars a year by carrying freight for pay on the return trips." "yes, sir; i understand that. their cargo is mostly coal, is it not?" "it is." "for ports all along the great lakes?" "certainly." "and through carrying this coal your ships lose from a week to ten days and some times two weeks' on every round trip." "how do you know this?" interrupted mr. carrhart. "i have asked questions," smiled steve. "call it a week's loss of time on each trip. do you know what that means?" "i begin to see," answered the president reflectively. "it means that every time your fleet makes a round trip, carrying coal back with them, the company loses their services to the enormous total of two hundred and ten weeks, more than four years, mr. carrhart. if you will glance over these figures of mine you will observe that, by this method, the company is losing about the figure stated by me a few minutes ago, over and above what you get in freights for carrying the coal." the president made a few brief calculations. he went over his figures and steve's several times, his forehead corrugated with deep wrinkles as he did so. at last mr. carrhart glanced up, gazing steadily at the slightly flushed face of the iron boy. "rush you are a very remarkable young man," he said. "of course, i knew that before, but what i did not know was that you had a head for finance, such as you have just demonstrated. this is really a most remarkable showing. i shall bring it before the board at the next meeting. there is no doubt about your suggestions being adopted. i think it will come in the nature of a revelation to the board. my boy, i am proud of you. i can't tell you how proud i am, especially so because i picked you out, feeling from the first that you would prove a winner." "thank you, sir." "and, in this connection, i received a long letter from captain simms from cleveland yesterday. he made certain suggestions regarding yourself and your friend jarvis, which it gives me great pleasure to act upon. you have been appointed second mate of the steamer 'richmond'; jarvis, first wheelman. you will be called upon to pass a government examination for a license, which you will take to-morrow morning. you will have no difficulty about it, if you are as good a navigator as captain simms says you are, and i have no doubt you are. if you remain on the lakes we'll be making a captain of you some of these days. however, i have an idea you do not intend to be a sailor." "no, sir, not permanently." * * * * * and so steve rush began as a watch officer on the great lakes. he proved that the confidence of his superiors was not misplaced, and for the rest of the season he remained on the "richmond," distinguishing himself in many ways. gus collins, with his fresh start in life, had dropped his hang-dog expression. when he talked to a man, now, he looked that man squarely in the eye, and from the moment of his return to the ship he was a daily worshipper at the shrine of steve rush. at the close of the season steve found the foreman a place with a manufacturing firm, with the help of a letter from captain simms. then, bidding good-bye to their friends, the lads gathered up their dunnage and went home for a few weeks' rest before taking up the new life that they had about decided upon. what happened to them in their new calling will be related in detail in a following volume entitled, "the iron boys in the steel mills; or, beginning anew in the cinder pits." in the great steel mills the boys were to work among the roaring furnaces, the swiftly moving cranes and the moulding mills, where the metal that they had helped to mine ran in rivers that turned into gold. there the boys were to be called upon to face death many times, and in many forms, as they toiled among the rough men of the mills and laughed at the thousand and one perils of their new life. the end. * * * * * transcriber's note obvious spelling and punctuation errors have been corrected, missing words have been added. the advertisement of the boys of steel series contains the numbering as presented in the book. differing spellings used throughtout the book for: life boat, lifeboat and life-boat light-house, lighthouse layoff, lay-off hatch cover, hatch-cover are retained as used by the author * * * * * henry altemus company's catalogue of the best and least expensive books for real boys and girls * * * * * really good and new stories for boys and girls are not plentiful. many stories, too, are so highly improbable as to bring a grin of derision to the young reader's face before he has gone far. the name of altemus is a distinctive brand on the cover of a book, always ensuring the buyer of having a book that is up-to-date and fine throughout. no buyer of an altemus book is ever disappointed. many are the claims made as to the inexpensiveness of books. go into any bookstore and ask for an altemus book. compare the price charged you for altemus books with the price demanded for other juvenile books. you will at once discover that a given outlay of money will buy more of the altemus books than of those published by other houses. every dealer in books carries the altemus books. * * * * * sold by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price henry altemus company 507-513 cherry street, philadelphia the motor boat club series by h. irving hancock the keynote of these books is manliness. the stories are wonderfully entertaining, and they are at the same time sound and wholesome, no boy will willingly lay down an unfinished book in this series. 1 the motor boat club of the kennebec; 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(_other volumes to follow rapidly._) cloth, illustrated price, per volume, 50c. * * * * * battleship boys series by frank gee patchin these stories throb with the life of young americans on to-day's huge drab dreadnaughts. 1 the battleship boys at sea; or, two apprentices in uncle sam's navy. 2 the battleship boys first step upward; or, winning their grades as petty officers. 3 the battleship boys in foreign service; or, earning new ratings in european seas. 4 the battleship boys in the tropics; or, upholding the american flag in a honduras revolution. (_other volumes to follow rapidly._) cloth, illustrated price, per volume, 50c. * * * * * the meadow-brook girls series by janet aldridge real live stories pulsing with the vibrant atmosphere of outdoor life. 1 the meadow-brook girls under canvas; or, fun and frolic in the summer camp. 2 the meadow-brook girls across country; or, the young pathfinders on a summer hike. 3 the meadow-brook girls afloat; or, the stormy cruise of the red rover. cloth, illustrated price, per volume, 50c. * * * * * high school boys series by h. irving hancock in this series of bright, crisp books a new note has been struck. boys of every age under sixty will be interested in these fascinating volumes. 1 the high school freshmen; or, dick & co.'s first year pranks and sports. 2 the high school pitcher; or, dick & co. on the gridley diamond. 3 the high school left end; or, dick & co. grilling on the football gridiron. 4 the high school captain of the team; or, dick & co. leading the athletic vanguard. cloth, illustrated price, per volume, 50c. * * * * * grammar school boys series by h. irving hancock this series of stories, based on the actual doings of grammar school boys, comes near to the heart of the average american boy. 1 the grammar school boys of gridley; or, dick & co. start things moving. 2 the grammar school boys snowbound; or, dick & co. at winter sports. 3 the grammar school boys in the woods; or, dick & co. trail fun and knowledge. 4 the grammar school boys in summer athletics; or, dick & co. make their fame secure. cloth, illustrated price, per volume, 50c. * * * * * high school boys' vacation series by h. irving hancock "give us more dick prescott books!" this has been the burden of the cry from young readers of the country over. almost numberless letters have been received by the publishers, making this eager demand; for dick prescott, dave darrin, tom reade, and the other members of dick & co. are the most popular high school boys in the land. boys will alternately thrill and chuckle when reading these splendid narratives. 1 the high school boys' canoe club; or, dick & co.'s rivals on lake pleasant. 2 the high school boys in summer camp; or, the dick prescott six training for the gridley eleven. 3 the high school boys' fishing trip; or, dick & co. in the wilderness. 4 the high school boys' training hike; or, dick & co. making themselves "hard as nails." cloth, illustrated price, per volume, 50c. * * * * * the circus boys series by edgar b. p. darlington mr. darlington's books breathe forth every phase of an intensely interesting and exciting life. 1 the circus boys on the flying rings; or, making the start in the sawdust life. 2 the circus boys across the continent; or, winning new laurels on the tanbark. 3 the circus boys in dixie land; or, winning the plaudits of the sunny south. 4 the circus boys on the mississippi; or, afloat with the big show on the big river. cloth, illustrated price, per volume, 50c. * * * * * the high school girls series by jessie graham flower, a. m. these breezy stories of the american high school girl take the reader fairly by storm. 1 grace harlowe's plebe year at high school; or, the merry doings of the oakdale freshman girls. 2 grace harlowe's sophomore year at high school; or, the record of the girl chums in work and athletics. 3 grace harlowe's junior year at high school; or, fast friends in the sororities. 4 grace harlowe's senior year at high school; or, the parting of the ways. cloth, illustrated price, per volume, 50c. * * * * * the automobile girls series by laura dent crane no girl's library--no family book-case can be considered at all complete unless it contains these sparkling twentieth-century books. 1 the automobile girls at newport; or, watching the summer parade. 2 the automobile girls in the berkshires; or, the ghost of lost man's trail. 3 the automobile girls along the hudson; or, fighting fire in sleepy hollow. 4 the automobile girls at chicago; or, winning out against heavy odds. 5 the automobile girls at palm beach; or, proving their mettle under southern skies. cloth, illustrated price, per volume, 50c. elsie's journey on inland waters by martha finley [illustration] new york dodd, mead and company publishers copyright, 1895, by dodd, mead and company. _all rights reserved._ chapter i. after her return from the trip across the lake with the bridal party, the _dolphin_ lay at anchor near the white city for a week or more; there were so many interesting and beautiful exhibits at the fair still unseen by them that captain raymond, his family, and guests scarce knew how to tear themselves away. at the breakfast table on the morning after their arrival, they, as usual, considered together the question where the day should be spent. it was soon evident that they were not all of one mind, some preferring a visit to one building, some to another. "i should like nothing better than to spend some hours in the art palace, examining paintings and statuary," said violet, "and i have an idea that mamma would enjoy doing the same," looking enquiringly at her mother as she finished her sentence. "in which you are quite right," responded grandma elsie. "there is nothing i enjoy more than pictures and statuary such as may be found there." "and i am sure your father and i can echo that sentiment," remarked mrs. dinsmore, with a smiling glance at her husband. "very true, my dear," he said. "then that is where we shall go," said the captain. "that includes your four children, i suppose, papa?" remarked lucilla, half enquiringly, half in assertion. "unless one or more of them should prefer to remain at home--here on the yacht," he replied. "how about that, neddie, my boy?" "oh, papa, i don't want to stay here! please let me go with you and mamma," exclaimed the little fellow, with a look of mingled alarm and entreaty. "you certainly shall, if you want to, my son," returned his father. "i am happy to say that my little boy has been very good and given no unnecessary trouble in visiting the fair thus far. and i can say the same of my little elsie and her older sisters also," he added, with an affectionate look from one to another. "thank you, papa," said lucilla and grace, the latter adding, "i think it would be strange indeed should we ever intentionally and willingly give trouble to such a father as ours." "i don't intend ever to do that," said little elsie earnestly, and with a loving upward look into her father's face. "i am glad to hear it, dear child," he returned, with an appreciative smile. "i, too," said her mother. "well, we will make quite a party, even if all the rest choose to go elsewhere." the art palace was a very beautiful building of brick and steel; its style of architecture ionic of the most classic and refined type. it was very large: 320 feet wide by 500 feet in length, with an eastern and western annex, a grand nave and transept 160 feet wide and 70 feet high intersecting it, and that surmounted by a dome very high and wide, and having upon its apex a winged figure of victory. from this dome the central section was flooded with light, and here was a grand collection of sculpture and paintings, in which every civilized nation was represented, the number of pieces shown being nearly twenty-five thousand. it was the largest art exhibition ever made in the history of the world. it was not strange, therefore, that though our friends had been in the building more than once before, they still found an abundance of fine works of art which were well worth attentive study, and as entirely new to them as though they had been but just placed there. little elsie was particularly attracted, and her curiosity was excited by an oil painting among the french exhibits of joan of arc listening to the voices. "is there a story to it?" she asked of her grandma, who stood nearest to her at the moment. "yes, dear; and if you want to hear it, i shall tell it to you when we go back to the _dolphin_," was the kindly rejoinder, and the child, knowing that grandma elsie's promises were sure to be kept, said no more at the moment, but waited patiently until the appointed time. as usual, she and neddie were ready for a rest sooner than the older people, and were taken back to the yacht by their father, grandma elsie and grace accompanying them, saying that they, too, were weary enough to enjoy sitting down with the little folks for an hour or so. "oh, i'm glad grandma's going too!" cried ned, and elsie added, with a joyous look, "so am i, grandma, but i'm very sorry you are tired." "do not let that trouble you, dearest," returned mrs. travilla, with a loving smile. "you know if i were not tired i should miss the enjoyment of resting." "and there is enjoyment in that," remarked the captain; "yet i regret, mother, that your strength is not sufficient to enable you to see and enjoy all the beautiful sights here, which we may never again have an opportunity to behold." "well, captain, one cannot have everything in this world," returned grandma elsie, with a contented little laugh, "and it is a real enjoyment to me to sit on the deck of the _dolphin_ with my dear little grandchildren about me, and entertain them with such stories as will both interest and instruct them." "oh, are you going to tell us the story of that picture i asked you about, grandma?" queried little elsie, with a look of delight. "what picture was that?" asked her father, who had not heard what passed between the lady and the child while gazing together upon maillart's painting. mrs. travilla explained, adding, "i suppose you have no objection to my redeeming my promise?" "oh, no! not at all; it is a historical story, and i do not see that it can do them any harm to hear it, sadly as it ends." they had reached the yacht while talking, and presently were on board and comfortably seated underneath the awning on the deck. then the captain left them, and grandma elsie, noting the look of eager expectancy on little elsie's face, at once began the coveted tale. "the story i am about to tell you," she said, "is of things done and suffered more than four hundred years ago. at that time there was war between the english and french. the king of england, not satisfied with his own dominions, wanted france also and claimed it because his mother was the daughter of a former french king; so he sent an army across the channel into france to force the french to take him for their king, instead of their own monarch." "didn't the french people want to have the english king to be theirs too, grandma?" asked elsie. "no, indeed! and so a long, long war followed, and a great many of both the french and english were killed. "at that time there was a young peasant girl named joan, a modest, industrious, pious girl, who loved her country and was distressed over the dreadful war going on in it. she longed to help to drive the english away; but it did not seem as if she--a girl of fifteen, who could neither read nor write, though she could sew and spin and work out in the fields and gardens--could do anything to help to rid her dear land of the invaders. but she thought a great deal about it and at length imagined that she heard heavenly voices calling to her to go and fight for her king." "and that was the picture that we saw to-day, grandma?" asked elsie. "but it wasn't really true?" "no, dear; probably joan of arc, as she is called, really imagined she heard them, and the painter has imagined how they might have looked." "then it isn't real," remarked the little girl, in a tone of disappointment. "no, not what the picture represents; but the story of what poor joan of arc, or the maid of orleans, as she is often called, thought and did is true. when she told her story of the voices speaking to her no one believed it; they thought she was crazy. but she was not discouraged. she went to her king, or rather the dauphin, for he had not been crowned, and told her story to him and his council--that god had revealed to her that the french troops would succeed in driving the enemy away from the city of orleans, which they were besieging at that time. "the dauphin listened, believed what she told him, and gave her leave to dress herself in male attire and go with the troops, riding on a white palfrey and bearing a sword and a white banner. the soldiers believed in her, and in consequence were filled with such courage and enthusiasm that they fought very bravely and soon succeeded in driving the english away from orleans. "this success so delighted the french, and so raised their hope of ridding france of her enemies, that they won victory after victory, driving the english out of one province after another, and even out of paris itself, so that the english hated and dreaded poor joan. "she conducted the dauphin to rheims, where he was crowned, and she wept for joy as she saluted him as king. then she wanted to go home, thinking her work was done; but king charles begged her to stay with the army, and to please him she did. but she began to have fearful forebodings because she no longer heard the voices. yet she remained with the french army and was present at a good many battles, till at length she was taken prisoner by the burgundians and sold to the english for a large sum by the burgundian officer." "oh, grandma! and did the english hurt her for fighting for her own dear country?" "i cannot say certainly," replied mrs. travilla; "accounts differ, some saying that she was put to death as a heretic and sorceress; others that some five or six years later she arrived at metz, was at once recognized by her two brothers, and afterward married." "oh, i hope that is the true end of the story!" exclaimed elsie. "it would be so dreadful to have her put to death for helping to save her dear country." "so it would," said grace; "but in those early times such dreadful, dreadful deeds used to be done. i often feel thankful that i did not live in those days." "yes," said mrs. travilla, "we may well be full of gratitude and love to god our heavenly father that our lot has been cast in these better times and in our dear land." "and that we have our dear, kind grandma to love," said neddie, nestling closer to her, "and our papa and mamma. some little children haven't any." "no, i had no mother when i was your age, ned," sighed grandma elsie, "and i cannot tell you how much i used to long for her when aunt chloe would tell me how sweet and lovely she had been, and how sorry she was to leave her baby." "her baby? was that you, grandma?" he asked, with a wondering look up into her face. "yes," she replied, with a smile, and stroking his hair caressingly. "but you had a papa? grandpa is your papa, isn't he? i hear you call him that sometimes." "yes, he is; my dear father and your mamma's grandfather, which makes him yours too." "mine, too," said little elsie, in a tone of satisfaction. "oh, see! here comes the boat with evelyn and uncle walter in it!" "you are early to-night as well as ourselves," remarked grace, as they stepped upon the deck and drew near the little group already gathered there. "yes," returned evelyn, "i was tired, and walter kindly brought me home. the yacht seems like a home to me nowadays," she added, with a light laugh. "yes," said grace; "i am sure papa likes to have us all feel that it is a home to us at present." "and a very good and comfortable one it is," remarked walter, handing evelyn to a seat, then taking one himself opposite her and near his mother's side. "where have you two been? and what have you seen that is worth telling about?" asked grace. "visiting buildings," returned walter; "brazil, turkey, hayti, sweden, and lastly venezuela." "and what did you see there?" "in venezuela's exhibit? christopher columbus and general bolivar--that is, their effigies--specimens of birds, animals, minerals, preserves, spices, coffee, vegetables, fine needlework, some manufactured goods, and--most interesting of all, we thought--the flag carried by pizarro in his conquest of peru." "pizarro? who was he? and what did he do, uncle wal?" asked little elsie. "he was a very, very bad man and did some very, very wicked deeds," replied walter. "did he kill people?" "yes, that he did; and got killed himself at last. the bible says, 'whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed,' and there have been a great many examples of it in the history of the world." "does god say that, uncle walter?" asked neddie. "yes; god said it to noah, shortly after he and his family came out of the ark." "when the flood was over?" "yes." "please tell us about that flag and the bad man that carried it," urged little elsie, and walter complied. "pizarro was a spaniard," he began, "a very courageous, but covetous and cruel man; very ignorant, too; he could neither read nor write. he was a swineherd in his youth, but gave up that occupation and came over to america to seek a fortune in this new world. he crossed the isthmus of panama with balboa and discovered the pacific ocean. while there he heard rumors of a country farther south, where gold and silver were said to be as abundant as iron in spain, and he was seized with a great desire to go there and help himself to as much as possible. so he and another fellow named almagro, and luque, a priest, put their money together and fitted out a small expedition, of which pizarro took command. "they did not go very far that time, but afterward tried it again, first making an agreement that all they got of lands, treasures, and other things, vassals included, should be divided equally between them. "they set sail in two ships. they really reached peru, and when pizarro went back to panama he carried with him many beautiful and valuable ornaments of gold and silver which the kind-hearted natives had given him, also specimens of cloth made of wool and having a silky appearance and brilliant color, and some llamas, or alpacas." "they had certainly treated him very kindly," remarked grace, as walter paused for a moment in his narrative. "yes; and what a mean wretch he must have been to want to rob them of everything--even to life, liberty, and happiness. he was determined to do that as soon as possible; so determined that, not being able to find enough volunteers in panama, he went all the way back to spain (a far greater undertaking then than it would be now), told the story of his discoveries before the king, charles v., and his ministers; describing the wealth of the countries and showing the goods and ornaments he had brought from them. "then they gave him--what was not theirs to give--permission to conquer peru, and the titles of governor and captain-general of that country. he on his part agreed to raise a certain number of troops, and to send to the king of spain one-fifth of all the treasures he should obtain. he then returned to panama and soon set sail for peru again." "with a great many soldiers, uncle wal?" queried little ned. "no; with what in these days would be considered a very small army; only 180 soldiers, of whom 27 were cavalry." "cavalry?" repeated ned, in a tone of enquiry. "yes, soldiers on horseback. the peruvians, having never before seen a horse, took each mounted man and the steed he rode to be but one animal, and were much afraid of them. the firearms, too, inspired great terror, as they knew nothing of gunpowder and its uses. "at that time there was war among the natives of peru and quito. huano capac, the former inca of peru, had died some years previous, leaving peru to his son huascar, and quito, which he had conquered shortly before, to another son--half-brother to huascar. the two had quarrelled and had been fighting each other for about two years, and just before the arrival of the spaniards atahualpa had defeated his brother huascar, taken him prisoner, and confined him in a strong fortress." "perhaps," remarked evelyn, "if they had not been so busy fighting each other they might have discovered the approach of pizarro, their common enemy, in season to prevent the mischief he was prepared to do them." "very possibly," returned walter. "as it was, the spaniards drew near atahualpa's victorious camp, where they found fifty thousand men assembled. pizarro had at the most only two hundred; a mere handful in comparison with the numbers of the peruvians, but by a most daring and diabolical stratagem he got possession of the unsuspecting inca. "atahualpa came to visit him in a friendly spirit. a priest began explaining to him the christian, or rather the papal religion; told him that the pope had power over all the kingdoms of the earth and that he had presented peru to the king of spain; also that they had come to take possession in the name of that king. "naturally that made atahualpa very angry; so angry that he indignantly interrupted the priest, saying that the pope--whoever he was--must be a crazy fool to talk of giving away countries which did not belong to him. then he asked on what authority such claims were made. "the priest pointed to a bible. atahualpa dashed it angrily to the ground, and the fields began to fill with indians. then pizarro waved a white scarf--the signal he had agreed upon with his men--and his artillery poured sudden death into the terrified masses of indians, while the spanish cavalry rode them down in a furious, merciless way. the ranks of the poor, unarmed peruvians were thrown into confusion; their foes were butchering them without mercy; they could do little to save themselves; they used every effort to defend and save the sacred inca, but in vain; and after hours of that fiendish murdering of the poor, defenceless creatures, the spaniards got full possession of him. "at first they pretended to be very kind to him, especially when he offered, as his ransom, to fill the room in which he stood with gold as high as he could reach. "huascar, in his prison, heard of this and offered a still larger ransom for himself, and to prevent it atahualpa had him secretly murdered. "soon after that the gold for atahualpa's ransom began to pour in, and when there was as much as he had promised he demanded his freedom. but pizarro refused to let him go--though he took the gold--accusing him of plotting against him; and after much base treachery the spaniards held a mock trial and condemned atahualpa to be burned. but when they led him out to the stake he consented to be baptized, and for that they were so very merciful as to strangle before burning him." "oh, uncle walter, what cruel, cruel men!" exclaimed little elsie. "they were, indeed," sighed her grandma. "the bible tells us 'the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel.' pizarro and his band were very, very wicked men. they had no more right to the country of the peruvians than the peruvians would have had to theirs, had they crossed the ocean to spain and seized upon it for their own. 'all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword,' our saviour said, and how true it proved in the case of these men of whom we have been talking! atahualpa caused his brother huascar to be killed; pizarro, almagro, and the others killed atahualpa; pizarro afterward killed almagro; and later on pizarro was himself slain by almagro's son diego." chapter ii. ned had begun to nod, and elsie's eyes drooped as if she too were in need of a nap; perceiving which grandma elsie bade their nurse take them to their berth. a light breeze had sprung up, and it was very pleasant on deck in the shade of the awning; while, resting upon couches or in easy chairs, they talked in a quiet way of the various interesting exhibits to which they had given their attention since leaving the yacht that morning. "we visited the illinois building," said evelyn, "and were very much interested in the wonderful grain picture there. it is an ideal prairie farm--with farmhouse, barn, stock-sheds, all made of corn-husks as well as the picket fence surrounding it; there are stock and poultry in the barnyard; there is a windmill too, and there are fields and cattle." "yes," said walter, as eva paused in her account, "and the perspective showed fields of grass and grain, pasture too, and sky effects--all made of natural grains, grasses, leaves, and berries indigenous to illinois." "oh, i think i must get papa to take us to see it!" exclaimed grace. "there is a curtain that partly covers the picture," continued walter; "it is made of the same materials and caught up by a rope with tassels made of yellow corn. "we visited the idaho building too," he went on, "and i think you should all see it. it is really picturesque--a log-house on a foundation of lava and basaltic rock. the timbers we were told are from young cedar trees, stuffed and stained to produce the effect of age; then it has fine upper and lower balconies shaded by a projecting roof upheld by brackets of logs. i heard people remarking that it was the handsomest log-house ever built, and certainly i never saw any other nearly so handsome." "ah, here comes the boat again with the rest of our folks!" exclaimed grace, and springing to his feet, walter hastened to the side of the vessel to assist the ladies in getting on board. "well, lu, have you had a good time since i left you?" asked grace, in a lively tone, as her sister drew near. "yes; yes, indeed!" returned lucilla; "we have seen and enjoyed a great deal, and i wouldn't have missed it on any account, though we are all very tired, i think. i am, i know," she concluded, dropping into a seat by grace's side. "as we all are," said violet. "i am glad, mamma, that you came back to the yacht when you did." "yes, i thought it wiser not to allow myself to become very weary before taking rest; and we have had a pleasant, quiet time here together," returned grandma elsie, looking up with an affectionate smile into the face of her father, who had just drawn near and was standing by her side, regarding her with a slightly anxious look. "i am glad you were so prudent," he said, "for you have not been over strong since that illness that made us all so anxious." "no; and we all feel that we must be very careful of our dear mother," remarked the captain, who had just joined the little group. "of gracie also," he added, smiling down into her face and laying a caressing hand for a moment on her head. "are you feeling very tired, daughter?" "not so very much now, papa," she answered brightly; "we have been resting nicely here, talking over the sights and historical stories connected with them." then, turning to her sister, "tell us where you have been and what you have seen since we left the party, lu," she requested. "ah, i am afraid i cannot begin to tell all," returned lucilla, in a lively tone and with a pleased little laugh, "for 'their name is legion'; the loveliest pictures and statuary in the fine arts building, and a great variety of curious and interesting things in machinery hall. we went up to the gallery there and took a ride in the travelling crane. it is like an elevated railroad, is moved by electricity, and runs the whole length of the building, twenty or thirty feet above the floor. we stepped in at one end and sat down upon chairs ranged along the front edge, and it was really entertaining to watch the crowds of people moving along the floors below, and to get at last a glance at the exhibits." "exhibits!" echoed grace. "of what kind? oh, machines, of course! but i should hardly expect them to be very interesting." "machines for making ice cream and candy would interest you, wouldn't they?" asked lulu. "perhaps the hot baths, too; though i suppose you wouldn't care much about printing-presses, rock-drills, sewing-machines, washing-machines, looms, and the like. i own i didn't care over much for them myself. but in the restful, cooling, breezy ride, with nothing to do but watch the goings on of other people, and a glance now and then at something interesting as we glided past it, i did find a good deal of enjoyment. ah," drawing out her pretty little watch and glancing at its face, "i must excuse myself now and go to my stateroom; for i see it is nearly meal time, and my hair and dress certainly need some attention;" and with that she left them. mr. dinsmore and the captain, wishing to look at some exhibits in which the ladies took but little interest, went ashore again early in the evening; leaving mrs. dinsmore, mrs. travilla, and the younger ones occupying the comfortable seats on the _dolphin's_ deck, and enjoying the cool evening breeze and the somewhat distant view of the beauties of the brilliantly illuminated white city, as well as that of the starry heavens above them. violet had gone down to the cabin with her children to see them safely in bed, and for some minutes no one left in the little group behind had spoken. but presently grace broke the silence. "i have just been thinking what a wonderful change has come over this part of our country since the war of 1812. i remember that history tells us there was only a fort and a trading post here then, where now this great city stands, and that it was destroyed. grandma elsie, don't you want to tell us the whole story?" she concluded in a coaxing tone. "i am willing, if you all wish it," was the sweet-toned reply, immediately followed by an eager assent from everyone present. "well, then, my dears," she said, "to begin at the beginning--this spot, we are told, was first visited by a white man in 1674. he was a french jesuit called father marquette. he built a cabin there and planted a missionary station. eleven years afterward his cabin was replaced by a fort. i do not know how long that fort stood, but lossing tells us that in 1796 a mulatto from st. domingo found his way to that far-off wilderness, and that the indians said of him 'the first white man who settled here was a negro.' he did not stay very long, however, and the improvements he had made fell into the hands of the next comer, who was a native of quebec named john kinzie. "he was an enterprising trader with the indians, and for twenty years the only white man in northern illinois except a few american soldiers. it was in 1804 that he made chicago his home, and on the fourth of july of that year a fort our government had been building there was formally dedicated and called fort dearborn, in honor of the then secretary of war. it stood on a slight elevation on the south bank of the chicago river, about half a mile from its mouth, and directly opposite, on the north bank, stood mr. kinzie's dwelling. it was a modest mansion begun by jean baptiste, and enlarged by mr. kinzie. he had some lombardy poplars planted in front within an enclosed yard, and at the back a fine garden and growing orchard. "there he had lived in peace and prosperity, esteemed and confided in by the surrounding indians, for eight years, when in june of 1812 war was declared by our government with great britain. of course you all know and remember what were the causes of that second struggle with our mother country?" "indeed we do, mother," exclaimed walter. "she interfered with our commerce, capturing every american vessel bound to, or returning from a port where her commerce was not favored; and worse still, was continually seizing our sailors and forcing them into her service; depriving us of our god-given rights and making slaves of freemen. if ever a war was justifiable on one side that one was on ours. is it not so?" "i think it is, my son," replied grandma elsie, smiling slightly at the lad's heat. "was fort dearborn strong and well built, mamma?" queried rosie. "yes; it was strongly picketed, had a block-house at each of two angles on the southern side, on the north side a sally-port and covered way that led down to the river for the double purpose of obtaining water during a siege and of having a way of escape should that be desirable at any time--and was strongly picketed. "the fort was built by major whistler, his soldiers dragging all the timber to the spot because they had no oxen. some material was furnished from fort wayne, but so economically was the work done that the fortress did not cost the government fifty dollars. "but to return to my story--the garrison there at the time of the declaration of war consisted of fifty-four men. the only other residents of the post at that time were the wives of captain heald and lieutenant helm, the second in command, those of some of the soldiers, a few canadians with their wives and children, and mr. kinzie and his family. "they were all on the most friendly terms with the principal tribes of indians in that neighborhood--the pottawatomies and winnebagoes, yet they could not win them from their attachment for the british, who yearly made them large presents as bribes to secure their alliance. portions of their tribes had been engaged in the battle of tippecanoe, fought the previous autumn, and since that some of the leading chiefs had seemed sullen, and suspicions of intended hostility on their part at times troubled the minds of the officers of the fort. "one day in the spring of 1812 two indians of the calumet band were at the fort, and seeing mrs. helm and mrs. heald playing at battledore, one of them, named nan-non-gee, turned to the interpreter with the remark, 'the white chiefs' wives are amusing themselves very much; it will not be long before they will be living in our cornfields.'" "oh!" cried grace, "i should think that ought to have been enough to warn the officers of the fort to make every preparation to repel an assault by the indians." "yes," said grandma elsie, "but heald seems to have been strangely blind and deaf to every kind of warning. "on the evening of the 7th of april, 1812, mr. kinzie sat by his fireside playing his violin, his children dancing to the music, when their mother, who had been attending a sick neighbor, a mrs. burns, living half a mile above the fort, came rushing wildly in crying out: 'the indians! the indians!' 'what? where?' exclaimed her husband. 'up at lee's, killing and scalping!' she gasped in reply, and went on to tell that the alarm had been given by a boy, the son of mr. lee, and a discharged soldier who had been working for them. they had shouted the dreadful tidings across the river to the burns family, as they ran down the farther side, mr. lee's place being between two and three miles farther up the stream. "not a moment was to be lost. mr. kinzie hurried his family into two pirogues moored in front of his house, and hastened with them across the river and into the fort. the alarm had reached there also, and a scow with ensign ronan and six men started at once up the river to rescue the burns family. also a cannon was fired to give notice of danger to a party of soldiers who were out fishing. mrs. burns and her family, including an infant not yet a day old, were taken safely to the fort." "i hope those soldiers got back safely too," said grace. "yes; they were two miles above lee's; it was already dark when they returned, and in passing his house they came upon the bodies of murdered and scalped persons, which were the next day recovered and buried near the fort. it was afterward learned that the scalping party were winnebagoes from rock river, who had come with the intention of killing every white person outside of the fort, but were frightened away by the sound of the cannon before they had finished their fiendish work; so fled back to their homes. "in those days an agency house stood upon the esplanade, about twenty rods west from the fort, and in it all the whites not belonging to the garrison now took refuge. it was an old-fashioned log-house, with a passage through the centre, and piazzas in front and rear extending the whole length of the building. these were planked up, port-holes cut in the barricades and sentinels were posted there every night. "hostile indians hovered around the post for some time, helping themselves to whatever they could lay their hands upon, but at length disappeared, and for a while there was no further alarm. "on the 7th of august, toward evening, a friendly pottawatomie chief, named win-ne-meg, or the catfish, came to chicago from fort wayne as the bearer of a despatch from general hull to captain heald. in that despatch hull told of the declaration of war with england, the invasion of canada, and the loss of mackinack. it also ordered captain heald to evacuate fort dearborn, if practicable; and if he did so to distribute all the united states property there among the indians in the neighborhood." "including guns, powder, and balls with which to kill the whites!" said lucilla. "i think i should have concluded from such an order that hull must be either a traitor or an idiot." "his idea," said grandma elsie, "seems to have been to make a peace-offering to the savages to induce them to refrain from joining the british, then menacing detroit. "win-ne-meg, who had some knowledge of the contents of the missive he brought, begged mr. kinzie, with whom he was intimate, to advise captain heald not to evacuate the fort, assuring him it would prove a difficult and dangerous movement; for the indians had already received information from tecumseh of the disasters to the american arms and the withdrawal of hull's army from canada, and were growing insolent and restless. the fort was well supplied with ammunition and provisions sufficient to last for six months; by the end of that time relief might be sent, and why not hold out till then? but if heald was resolved to evacuate, it had better be done at once, before the indians should be informed of the order, and so be prepared to make an attack. "win-ne-meg's advice in that case was to leave the stores as they were, allowing them to make distribution for themselves; for while they were engaged in that business the white people might make their way in safety to fort wayne. "mr. kinzie perceived that this was wise advice, as did the officers of the fort, with the exception of heald, who would not listen to it, but expressed himself as resolved to yield strict obedience to hull's orders as to evacuation and the distribution of the public property. "the next morning hull's order was read to the troops, and heald took the whole responsibility of carrying it out. his officers expected to be summoned to a council, but they were not. toward evening they called upon the commander and remonstrated with him. they said that the march must necessarily be slow on account of the women, children, and infirm persons, therefore, under the circumstances, exceedingly perilous. they reminded him that hull's order left it to his discretion to go or to stay; adding that they thought it much wiser to strengthen the fort, defy the savages, and endure a siege until help could reach them. "but heald replied that he should expect the censure of the government if he remained, for special orders had been issued by the war department that no post should be surrendered without battle having been given by the assailed; and his force was entirely too small to hazard an engagement with the indians. he added that he had full confidence in the professions of friendship of many chiefs about him, and he would call them together, make the required distribution, then take up his march for fort wayne." "and did the other officers submit to him then, grandma elsie?" asked grace. "yes; my dear, he was in authority, and i presume they were too loyal to oppose him. but being determined to abandon the fort, he should have done so at once; for delay was certainly increasing the danger, the indians becoming more unruly every hour; yet he procrastinated and did not call them together for the final arrangements for two or three days. "at last that was done and they met near the fort on the afternoon of the 12th, when heald held a farewell council with them. he invited his officers to join him in that, but they refused. in some way they had been informed that treachery was intended on the part of the indians, that they had planned to murder them and then destroy those who were in the fort. therefore they remained inside the pickets and opened a port-hole of one of the block-houses so that the indians could see a cannon pointing directly toward their group, thus protecting captain heald. it had the desired effect; no effort was made by the savages to carry out their treacherous design, they professed friendship, and accepted heald's offers to distribute among them the goods in the public store--blankets, calicoes, broadcloths, paints, and other things such as indians fancy." "beads among them, i presume," remarked rosie. "very likely," said her mother, "as they have always been a favorite ornament with the indians. the distribution of those goods, the arms and ammunition and such of the provisions as would not be needed by the garrison, was to take place next day; then the whites were to leave the fort and set out upon their journey through the wilderness, the pottawatomies engaging to furnish them with an escort, on condition of being liberally rewarded on their arrival at fort wayne." "oh, but i should have been afraid to trust them!" exclaimed grace, shuddering at the very thought of the risk. "mr. kinzie, who knew the indians so well, was of your opinion," said grandma elsie, "and earnestly remonstrated with captain heald; telling him they were not to be trusted in the face of such temptations. especially he urged him not to put arms and ammunition in their hands, as that would fearfully increase their ability to carry on the murderous raids which had become so frequent and caused so great terror in the frontier settlements. "he succeeded in convincing heald that he had been very foolish in making that promise, and he resolved to violate his treaty so far as the arms and ammunition were concerned. that very evening something occurred that certainly ought to have opened heald's eyes and led him to shut the gates of the fort and defend it to the last extremity. black partridge, a chief who had thus far always been friendly to the whites, and who was a man of great influence too, came to heald in a quiet way and said, 'father, i come to deliver to you the medal i wear. it was given me by the americans, and i have long worn it in token of our mutual friendship. but our young men are resolved to imbrue their hands in the blood of the white people. i cannot restrain them, and i will not wear a token of peace while i am compelled to act as an enemy.'" "and did heald actually disregard such a warning as that?" exclaimed evelyn leland. "i really do not see how it could have been made plainer that the purpose was to attack and murder all in the fort as soon as they were fairly in their power." "nor do i," said grandma elsie; "yet heald seems to have paid no more attention to it than to the previous warnings. "the next morning, august 13, was bright and cool. the indians came in great numbers to receive their promised presents. only the goods in the store were distributed that day, and in the evening black partridge said to mr. griffith, the interpreter, 'linden birds have been singing in my ears to-day; be careful on the march you are going to take.' this was repeated to captain heald, but solemn warning as it evidently was, he paid no more attention to it than he had to previous ones. he seems to have been perfectly infatuated, and how he could ever forgive himself in after years i cannot see. he went steadily on in the execution of his plans, of which, as i have told you, all the other officers, mr. kinzie, and friendly indian chiefs disapproved. that night he had all the guns but such as his party could make use of in their journey--gunscrews, flint, shot, and everything belonging to the use of firearms--thrown into the well. this was done at midnight, when the sentinels were posted and the indians in their camp; at least, they were supposed to be, but the night was dark, indians can move noiselessly, and some whose suspicions had been aroused crept to the spot and made themselves acquainted with what was going on. liquor and powder, too, were poured into the well, and a good deal of alcohol, belonging to mr. kinzie, into the river; also a portion of the powder and liquor of the fort was thrown into a canal that came up from the river far under the covered way. but the water of the river was sluggish, and so great a quantity of liquor had been thrown into it that in the morning it was like strong grog; and powder could be seen floating on the surface." "and of course the indians, who loved liquor, were angry when they saw how it had been wasted, instead of given to them," remarked grace. "yes; their complaints and threats were loud, and now the little garrison had no choice but to brave the danger of exposing themselves to their vengeance, for it was no longer possible to hold the fort, and they must set out upon their perilous journey. ah! if heald had but been less obstinately bent upon having his own way--more willing to listen to the advice and remonstrances of his officers, kinzie, who understood the indians so well, and the warning of the friendly chiefs, much suffering might have been averted and valuable lives saved. "mrs. heald had an uncle, the brave captain william wells, who had passed most of his life among the miami indians and been made one of their chiefs. he had heard at fort wayne of hull's order to evacuate fort dearborn, and knowing of the hostility of the pottawatomies, had made a rapid march across the country with a party of his miamis to reinforce heald and help him to hold and defend the fort. but he arrived just too late; the means of defence had already been destroyed, and there was no choice but to attempt the perilous march through the wilderness. "nine o'clock of the 15th was the hour set for the evacuation, and it was already evident that the indians intended to massacre the whites--men, women, and children. nor could they entertain any hope of being able to defend themselves, so overwhelming was the number of their savage foes, 500 warriors against 54 soldiers, 12 civilians, and 3 or 4 women." "but there were the miamis with wells, mamma," remarked rosie. "who proved of no assistance," returned grandma elsie. "lossing tells us that when, at nine o'clock, the gates were thrown open, and the march began, it was like a funeral procession. the band struck up the dead march in 'saul.' captain wells, with his friendly miamis, took the lead, his face blackened with gunpowder in token of his impending fate. his niece, mrs. heald, with her husband, came next, while the others, i presume, followed in the order of their rank." "were the kinzies with them?" asked grace. "mr. kinzie was, hoping by his personal influence to be able to soften, if not avert their impending fate. his family had left in a boat, in charge of a friendly indian who was to take them to his other trading station, where niles, mich., now stands. poor mrs. kinzie! having a daughter among the seemingly doomed ones, how terribly anxious and distressed she must have been!" added grandma elsie in tones tremulous with feeling. a moment of silence followed, then she went on with her narrative. chapter iii. "the procession, escorted by the five hundred pottawatomies, moved slowly along the lake shore in a southerly direction till they had reached the sand hills between the prairie and the beach. there the indians filed to the right, so that the hills were between them and the white people. "wells and his mounted miamis, who were in the advance, came suddenly dashing back, their leader shouting, 'they are about to attack us: form instantly!' "the words had scarcely left his lips when a storm of bullets came from the sand hills. the pottawatomies, both treacherous and cowardly, had made of those hills a covert from which to attack the little band of whites. "the troops were hastily brought into line, charged up the hill, and one of their number, a white-haired man of seventy, fell dead from his horse, the first victim of the perfidy of the indians hounded on by the inhuman proctor, a worse savage than they. "the miamis proved cowardly and fled at the first onset. their chief rode up to the pottawatomies, charged them with perfidy, and brandishing his tomahawk told them he would be the first to lead americans to punish them; then, wheeling his horse, he dashed away over the prairie, following his fleeing companions. "both men and women among the whites fought bravely for their lives; they could not hope to save them, but they would sell them to the savage foe as dearly as possible. it was a short, desperate, bloody conflict. lossing tells us that captain wells displayed the greatest coolness and gallantry. at the beginning of the fight he was close beside his niece, mrs. heald. "'we have not the slightest chance for life,' he said to her. 'we must part to meet no more in this world; god bless you!' and with that he dashed forward into the midst of the fight. seeing a young warrior, painted like a demon, climb into a wagon in which were twelve children, and scalp them all, he forgot his own danger, and burning to avenge the dreadful deed, cried out, 'if butchering women and children is their game, i'll kill too!' at the same time dashing toward the indian camp where they had left their squaws and papooses. "instantly swift-footed young warriors were in hot pursuit, firing upon him as they ran, while he, lying close to his horse's neck, occasionally turned and fired upon them. he had got almost beyond the range of their rifles when a shot killed his horse and wounded him severely in the leg. "yelling like fiends the young savages rushed forward to make him prisoner, intending, as he well knew, not to kill him at once, but to reserve him for a lingering and painful death by slow torture. two indian friends of his--win-ne-meg and wau-ban-see--tried to save him, but in vain; and he, knowing well for what fate he would be reserved if taken alive, taunted his pursuers with the most insulting epithets, to provoke them to kill him instantly. "he succeeded at last by calling one of them, per-so-tum by name, a squaw, which so enraged him that he despatched wells at once with a tomahawk, jumped upon his body, tore out his heart, and ate a portion of it with savage delight." "oh, how awful!" cried grace, shuddering with horror. "how his niece must have felt when she saw it!" "very possibly she did not see it," said grandma elsie, "so busy as she must have been in defending herself. she was an expert with the rifle and as an equestrienne, defended herself bravely, and received severe wounds; but, though faint and bleeding, managed to keep the saddle. an indian raised his tomahawk over her and she looked him full in the face, saying, with a melancholy smile, 'surely you would not kill a squaw!' at that his arm fell, but he took the horse by the bridle and led it toward the camp with her still in the saddle. it was a fine animal, and the indians had been firing at her in order to get possession of it, till she had received seven bullets in her person. her captor had spared her for the moment, but as he drew near the camp, his covetousness so overcame his better impulses that he took her bonnet from her head and was about to scalp her when mrs. kinzie, sitting in her boat, whence she had heard the sounds of the conflict but could not see the combatants, caught sight of them and cried out to one of her husband's clerks who was standing on the beach, 'run, run, chandonnai! that is mrs. heald. he is going to kill her. take that mule and offer it as a ransom.' "chandonnai made haste to obey the order, offered the mule and two bottles of whisky in addition, and as the three amounted to more value than proctor's offered bounty for a scalp, he succeeded, and mrs. heald was placed in the boat and there hidden from the eyes of other scalp-hunters." "i think you were right, grandma elsie, in calling that proctor a worse savage than those indians! bribing them as he did to murder men, women, and children!" exclaimed lucilla, her eyes flashing with indignation. "is it quite certain that he did?" asked grace. "quite," replied grandma elsie. "lossing tells us that proctor had offered a liberal sum for scalps, and that in consequence nearly all the wounded men were killed, their scalps carried to him at malden, and such a bounty paid for them as is given for the destruction of so many wolves. in a footnote lossing gives an extract from niles' _weekly register_ of april 3, 1813, in which it is stated that mrs. helm had arrived in buffalo, and in the narrative she gave of her sufferings at and after the massacre at chicago said, 'colonel proctor, the british commander at malden, bought the scalps of our murdered garrison at chicago,' and thanks to her noble spirit, she boldly charged him with the infamy in his own house." "did he deny it?" asked evelyn. "we are not told that he did; but no doubt he was angered, for he afterward treated both her and her husband with great cruelty, causing them to be arrested and sent across the wilderness from detroit to niagara frontier, in the dead of a canadian winter. the writer also stated that mrs. heald had learned from the tribe with whom she was a prisoner, and who were the perpetrators of those murders, that they intended to remain true, but received orders from the british to cut off our garrison whom they were to escort. "in our wars with england many british officers have shown themselves extremely cruel,--not a whit behind the savages in that respect,--but it would be very wrong to judge of the whole nation by their conduct; for there were in the mother country many who felt kindly toward america and the americans. and i think," she added, with her own sweet smile, "that there are many more now." "it seems mrs. helm too escaped with her life," said walter; "but she was wounded, i presume, mother, since you just spoke of her sufferings both at and after the massacre." "yes, a stalwart young indian attempted to scalp her; she sprang to one side, and the blow from his tomahawk fell on her shoulder instead of her head; at the same instant she seized him around the neck and attempted to take his scalping-knife, which hung in a sheath on his breast. before the struggle was ended another indian seized her, dragged her to the margin of the lake, plunged her in, and to her astonishment held her there in a way to enable her to breathe; so that she did not drown. presently she discovered that he was the friendly black partridge, and that he was engaged in saving instead of trying to destroy her life. "the wife of a soldier named corbord fought desperately, suffering herself to be cut to pieces rather than surrender; believing that, if taken prisoner, she would be reserved for torture. the wife of sergeant holt was another brave woman. at the beginning of the engagement her husband was badly wounded in the neck, and taking his sword she fought like an amazon. she rode a fine, spirited horse, which the indians coveted, and several of them attacked her with the butts of their guns, trying to dismount her, but she used her sword with such skill that she foiled them; then suddenly wheeling her horse, she dashed over the prairie, a number of them in hot pursuit and shouting, 'the brave woman! the brave woman! don't hurt her!'" "did they overtake her?" asked grace. "yes, at length; when a powerful savage seized her by the neck and dragged her backward to the ground while several others engaged her in front." "oh, i hope they didn't kill her!" exclaimed grace. "no," replied mrs. travilla; "she was afterward ransomed. but to go on with my story. presently the firing ceased; the little band of whites who had escaped death succeeded in breaking through the ranks of the assassins--who gave way in front--and rallied on the flank, and gained a slight eminence on the prairie near a grove called the oak woods. the indians gathered upon the sand hills and gave signs of a willingness to parley. two-thirds of the whites had been killed or wounded; only 28 strong men remained to cope with the fury of nearly 500 savages--they had lost but 15 in the conflict. to prolong the contest would be little better than madness. captain heald, accompanied only by a half-breed boy in mr. kinzie's service, went forward and met black-bird on the open prairie to arrange terms of surrender. "it was agreed that all the whites who had survived the conflict should become prisoners of war, to be exchanged as soon as practicable. with this understanding captors and captives all started for the indian camp near the fort. on arriving there another terrible scene ensued. the indians did not consider the wounded to be included in the terms of surrender, and immediately proceeded to kill and scalp nearly all of them." "to gain the bounty offered by that--human, or inhuman fiend proctor!" exclaimed walter. "i wonder how he viewed that transaction when he came to die." "i am sure that in the sight of god he was a wholesale murderer," said rosie; "a murderer not of men only, but of innocent women and children also." "yes," said her mother, "there were twelve children killed, besides captain wells, surgeon van voorhees, ensign ronan, and twenty-six private soldiers. "toward evening the family of mr. kinzie were permitted to return to their own home, where they found the friendly black partridge waiting for them. mrs. helm, the daughter of mrs. kinzie, you will remember was his prisoner. he placed her in the house of a frenchman named ouilmette. but the kinzies and all the prisoners were in great danger from a freshly arrived band of pottawatomies from the wabash, who were thirsting for blood and plunder. they thoroughly searched mr. kinzie's house for victims; but some friendly indians arrived just in time to prevent the carrying out of their bloodthirsty intentions. these were led by a half-breed chief called billy caldwell. black partridge told him of the evident purpose of the wabash indians, who had blackened their faces and were sitting sullenly in mr. kinzie's parlor, no doubt intending presently to start out and engage in the savage work they had planned. billy went in and said in a careless way, as he took off his accoutrements: 'how now, my friends! a good-day to you! i was told there were enemies here, but i am glad to find only friends. why have you blackened your faces? is it that you are mourning for your friends lost in battle? or is it that you are fasting? if so, ask our friend here (indicating mr. kinzie) and he will give you to eat. he is the indians' friend, and never yet refused them what they had need of.' "hearing all this the wabash indians were ashamed to own what their intention had been, and so the threatened massacre did not take place. the prisoners were divided among the captors and finally reunited or restored to their friends and families." "but they must have had a great deal to endure before that happy consummation," sighed evelyn. "oh, i think we can never be thankful enough that we live in these better times!" "so do i," said grace. "how very dreadful it must be to fall into the hands of savages and meet with a death so awful and sudden! i wish i knew that they were all christians and ready for heaven." "i can echo that wish," said grandma elsie, in tones full of sadness; "but i very much fear that they were not. some we may hope were, but it is said, on what seems good authority, that mrs. helm, in telling of that terrible scene near the sand hills, spoke of the terror of dr. van voorhees. he had been wounded badly, and his horse shot under him, when he asked her, 'do you think they will take our lives?' and then spoke of offering a large ransom for his. she advised him not to think of that, but of inevitable death. 'oh, i cannot die! i am not fit to die!' he exclaimed. 'if i had only a short time to prepare for it--death is awful!'" "'look at that man! at least he dies like a soldier,' she said, pointing to ensign ronan. 'yes,' gasped the doctor, 'but he has no terror of the future--he is an unbeliever.' "just then mrs. helm's struggle with the young indian who attempted to tomahawk her began, and directly afterward she saw the dead body of van voorhees." "oh, poor, poor fellow!" exclaimed grace, tears starting to her eyes. "one would think that, in such circumstances as theirs had been for months, every man and woman would have been careful to make sure work for eternity." "yes, but satan is ever tempting men to delay, and perhaps more souls are, in christian lands, lost through procrastination than from any other cause," sighed grandma elsie. "'now is the accepted time; now is the day of salvation.'" there was a moment of silence, broken by evelyn. "i remember when i was a very little girl, papa used to talk to me about being a christian, and that once i answered him, 'i would, papa, if i only knew how,' and he said, 'it is very simple, daughter; just to believe in the lord jesus, take him for your saviour, and give yourself to him--soul and body, time, talents, influence--all that you have or ever shall have, to be his forever, trusting in him with all your heart, sure that he meant all that he said in speaking to nicodemus--'god so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' and that other, 'him that cometh to me i will in no wise cast out.' those two texts seem to me to make the way very simple and plain." "they do indeed," said grandma elsie, "and anyone who has the bible and will study it faithfully, with earnest prayer to god for help to understand and obey its teachings, can hardly fail to find the way." chapter iv. the greater part of the next day was spent by our friends in a farewell visit to the fair; but the sun had not yet set when again they all gathered upon the _dolphin's_ deck, and she weighed anchor and proceeded on her course up the lake. "what a wonderful city it is to be so young!" remarked mr. dinsmore when they reached chicago. "yes, sir," said rosie. "mamma was giving us a little sketch of its early history, last evening; and we found it very interesting; but i can't say that the events here, or anywhere else, for that matter, of the war of 1812-14 have increased my love for the british. think of them hiring the indians to kill men, women, and children, paying just the bounty for them that they would for so many wolf-scalps!" "yes, it was barbarous indeed; but do not forget that even in the days of the revolution there were britons who viewed such doings with horror. in 1777 there was a debate in the english parliament concerning the employment of indians against the american colonists, when a member of the house of lords spoke in approval of it, saying it was right to use the means given them by god and nature. 'god and nature!' repeated the earl of chatham in scornful tones. 'those abominable principles and this most abominable avowal of them demand most decisive indignation. i call upon that right reverend bench (pointing to the bishops), those holy ministers of the gospel and pious pastors of the church--i conjure them to join in the holy work, and to vindicate the religion of their god.' that showed that he (chatham) was strongly opposed to such barbarity, but his appeal to the bishops was vain. every man of them voted for the employment of the savages in a war against their brethren, who were fighting for their freedom after years of patient endurance of oppression--years of patient but unsuccessful effort to gain it by peaceful means." "yes, i have always admired william pitt!" said rosie. "but did any of the british people disapprove of the employment of the indians in the war of 1812, grandpa?" "i presume a great many did, though i do not just now remember any historical mention of the fact," replied mr. dinsmore, "except among those whose business interests were sure or likely to suffer," he added musingly. "those sand hills from behind which the pottawatomies fired upon the whites are quite gone now, are they not, papa?" asked grace. "yes," replied captain raymond, "the city now covers the entire theatre of the events of that dreadful day. it has been a rapid and wonderful transformation." "don't you think, papa, it might have been saved--i mean fort dearborn--if captain heald had not been so obstinately determined to do as he thought best, regardless of the opinions of his officers and mr. kinzie, and the warnings of friendly indians?" asked grace. "i do, indeed," was the emphatic reply. "and that mackinack, which fell into the hands of the british about a month earlier, might have been saved to our country but for the criminal neglect of the then secretary of war. hancks, who was in command, did not know, had not heard of the declaration of war, though he might have been informed of it nearly a week earlier than the news reached the british commander of fort st. joseph, who led the attack, and by reason of the ignorance of the garrison and its commander of the true state of affairs came upon them so unexpectedly that they had no opportunity to defend the fortress." "oh, tell us the story of it, papa, please!" pleaded little elsie, and drawing her to a seat upon his knee, he complied at once. "the fort was built in the first place by the french," he said, "and taken from them by the english when they conquered canada. the indians were not pleased with the change and said to the english, 'you have conquered the french, but you have not conquered us.' perhaps you may remember what i told you some weeks ago about the attack of the indians upon the people in the fort. the indians were playing ball outside the walls of the fortress, and, pretending to be very friendly, invited the garrison to view the game. it was a gay and exciting scene, and the unsuspicious members of the garrison were looking on with interest, forgetting to be on their guard against treachery, when a ball went up in a lofty curve and fell near the pickets of the fort. "it was a preconcerted signal; the warriors instantly rushed toward the fort, armed with hatchets which their squaws had concealed under their blankets, and the whites being taken by surprise, a dreadful massacre followed. "the following year the fort was again garrisoned by the english, the indians fleeing at their approach. after the revolutionary war--in 1796--the island with its fort came into possession of the united states, the western military posts being surrendered to the americans by the british, and in 1812 the fortress, then called fort holmes, was garrisoned by fifty-seven men under the command of lieutenant hancks of the united states artillery. as a defence of the fur-traders and the scattered settlements of the northwest, it was a very important post. you doubtless remember that it stands on a bluff overlooking the harbor." "it is a beautiful place in the summer," remarked grace, "but must be dreary enough through the long winters." "it is," said her father, "yet by no means so dreary now as it was in those days, surrounded by hordes of savages ever ready to raise the hatchet in the pay of those who seemed to be the stronger party. "lieutenant hancks and his garrison knew that in the event of war they must be prepared to defend themselves, but as you have just been told, they were left in uncertainty for nearly a week after the news should have reached them. there had been rumors of expected hostilities brought by traders, but the first intimation that there had been an actual declaration of war was given by the arrival of the english captain roberts, on the morning of the 17th of july, with his garrison of british regulars--46, including 4 officers--260 canadian militia, and 715 indians--ottawas, chippewas, sioux, winnebagoes. "they came in boats, bateaux, canoes, convoyed by the brig _caledonia_, which belonged to the northwest fur company and was laden with provisions and stores. "on the morning of the day before, the indian interpreter had told hancks he had reliable information that the indians were assembling in large numbers at st. joseph and were about to attack fort holmes. "hancks had no sooner heard that than he summoned the american gentlemen on the island to a conference on the matter, at which it was decided to send a messenger to st. joseph to learn, if possible, the temper of the commandant, and to watch the movements of the indians. "captain darman was the man chosen, and he set off upon his errand about sunset that same evening." "all by himself, papa, when it was just getting dark, too?" asked elsie. "how could he see to row his boat?" "a full moon shone in the sky, daughter, and lighted him on his way," replied the captain. "but he had gone only fifteen miles when he met the boats carrying the british and indians, and was taken prisoner by them." "and did they kill him and scalp him, papa?" "no; they let him go on condition that he would return to the island in advance of them, call the people together to the west side of it to receive the protection of a british guard for themselves and their property, and not give lieutenant hancks any information of the approach of the enemy. also he was to warn the people that if any of them carried the news to the fort there would be a general massacre. darman was landed at dawn, and did exactly as he had promised." "oh, papa! and didn't anybody warn the poor fellows in the fort?" "yes; a dr. day, braver than any of the rest, hurried to the fort and gave the alarm while the others were fleeing from the village to escape from the bloodthirsty savages. but it was too late; the enemy had already landed and taken one of their two heavy guns to the top of the hill at the back of the fort, placing it so as to command the american works at their weakest point. by nine o'clock roberts had possession of the heights, and hideously painted savages were swarming everywhere. "at half-past eleven the americans were summoned to surrender the fortress to the forces of his 'britannic majesty.' hancks then held a consultation with his officers and the american gentlemen in the fort, and all agreeing in the opinion that it would be impossible to defend it against such overwhelming numbers--over a thousand, while the garrison could boast but fifty-seven men rank and file--he decided that it was expedient to surrender. "honorable terms were granted and at noon the american colors were taken down and those of great britain substituted in their stead. the prisoners were all paroled, and those who desired to leave the island were sent in a british vessel to detroit." "i should hardly have supposed any american would want to stay here under british rule," remarked grace. "an order was presently issued that all upon the island who would not take the oath of allegiance to the british government must leave there within a month," said captain raymond. "and they didn't let the indians kill anybody, papa?" asked elsie. "no," replied her father, "but it is altogether likely that if there had been any resistance many, if not all, would have fallen victims to the bloodthirsty savages, for one of the british, who had command of 280 of the indians, said in a letter to colonel claus at fort george, 'it was a fortunate circumstance that the fort surrendered without firing a single gun, for had they done so, i firmly believe not a soul would have been saved.'" "the capture of mackinaw was a great loss to our country, was it not, father?" asked lucilla. "yes, it was indeed," responded the captain, "a loss to the fur-trade of the west and a terrible calamity to the people of detroit and other western pioneers. it gave the enemy command of the upper lakes with all the advantages connected with it, and exposed detroit to fearful raids by the hostile indians." "and all that dreadful state of affairs was the result of the unpardonable negligence of the secretary of war!" she exclaimed. "really, i don't see how he could ever forgive himself." "no, nor do i," said rosie, "especially when afterward detroit too fell into the hands of the british; for its fall was a great assistance to the british cause." "yes," said walter, "in more ways than one; for they got arms, ammunition, and stores; also it was months before another invading army of americans could be raised and furnished with arms and other necessaries; and in the meantime the british made their preparations for further attacks upon us. they got valuable stores at mackinaw, too; among them seven hundred packages of costly furs. by the way, brother levis, was there not an attempt made by our troops, later on in the war, to repossess mackinaw?" "yes; mackinaw was the key to the traffic in furs of the northwest; therefore the americans were determined to recapture it, and the british fully as determined to keep possession of it; for which purpose they sent there a considerable body of troops consisting of regulars, canadian militia, and seamen. they took with them twenty-four bateaux loaded with ordnance, and found on the island a large body of indians waiting to join them as allies. that was in april, 1814, and about the same time commander arthur st. clair with a little squadron consisting of the _caledonia_, _st. lawrence_, _niagara_, _tigress_, and _scorpion_, started on a land and naval expedition to the upper lakes. the land force, under the command of lieutenant-colonel croghan, the gallant defender of fort stephenson, was attacked by the british and indians august 1, 1813." "oh, yes, i remember!" exclaimed walter. "what splendid work he did there, though he was but twenty-one years old!" "the expedition left detroit early in july," continued the captain. "i will not go into the whole story of its action at present; sufficient to say they arrived at mackinaw on the 26th of july. they soon learned that the enemy was very strong in position and numbers, and it was a question between st. clair and croghan whether it would be wise to make an immediate attack. the guns of the vessels could not damage the works because they were so elevated, and they could not carry the place by storm. "finally it was decided that croghan should land on the western side of the island, under cover of the guns of the vessels, and try to attack the works in the rear. he did so on the 4th of august, landing without much molestation, but was presently met by the garrison, who were strongly supported by the indians in the thickets; also a storm of shot and shell was poured upon them from a battery of guns. there was a sharp fight and croghan was compelled to fall back and return to the ship; 1 officer and 12 privates had been killed, 52 wounded, and 2 others were missing. "the attempt to recover mackinaw at that time had to be given up, and most of the little squadron sailed for detroit. the _scorpion_ and the _tigress_ were left behind to blockade the only route by which provisions and other supplies could reach mackinaw. the two vessels cruised about for some time till the garrison was threatened with starvation or surrender in order to avert it; but early in september they were both captured by british and indians sent out from the fort. they came in five boats and surprised the _tigress_ first, when the _scorpion_ was said to be fifteen miles away. she was at anchor near the shore, it was about nine o'clock in the evening, intensely dark, and the enemy was within fifty yards of the vessel when discovered. "the americans made a gallant defence, but were overpowered by numbers, there being but thirty of them beside the officers, and about one hundred of the assailants. lieutenant bulger, the british commander of the expedition, said in his report of the affair that the defence of the vessel did credit to her officers, who were all severely wounded. they and the crew were all sent prisoners of war to mackinaw, while bulger and his men remained on board the _tigress_. they kept her position unchanged and her pennant flying, and when, on the 5th, the _scorpion_ was seen approaching, bulger ordered his men to hide. "all this deceived the men on the _scorpion_; they thought the _tigress_ was still in the hands of their comrades, and when within two miles anchored for the night. at dawn the next morning the british ran the _tigress_ down alongside of her, the concealed soldiers ran out from their hiding-places, rushed on board the _scorpion_, and in a few minutes the british flag was floating over her." "and the british were very jubilant over the capture, as i remember reading," remarked violet. "and not very truthful in their report of it," added walter. "lossing says adjutant-general baynes actually reported in a general order that the vessels had crews of 300 each; only exaggerating 570 in stating the aggregate of the crews of the two schooners." but just here the talk was interrupted by the not unwelcome summons to their evening meal. chapter v. as they left the table and gathered upon deck on the evening of the next day, the captain announced that they were nearing mackinaw. "i am glad of that, papa," said grace; "for we shall have a lovely view of it by moonlight." "are we going to stop there, sir?" asked walter. "not unless someone particularly desires it," returned the captain; "but we will pass slowly and quite near, so that we may all have a good view of it. ah! it can be seen in the distance now," he added, pointing it out. "and though the sun has set the moon will, as gracie says, give us a lovely view of it," remarked violet. "yes, she is nearly full," said the captain, glancing skyward, "which will help us to a more vivid conception of how things looked to darman when he set out for fort st. joseph, on the 16th of july, 1812." "i'm glad of that," said lucilla. "i want to be able to imagine just how things looked at that time." "yes," said grace, "but it is far more delightful to know that no war is going on now, and we are in no danger from either civilized or savage foes." "it is indeed!" responded her father. "peace is a great blessing; war a dreadful scourge." "it is an indian name the island bears, is it not, captain?" asked evelyn. "yes; and the meaning is the great turtle, alluding to its shape. notice that as we approach, and see if you do not think the name appropriate." "to the tongue of which of the indian tribes does the name belong, sir?" asked walter. "the algonquin." "the harbor is considered a fine one, is it not?" "yes; it is semicircular, 1 mile long; the strait is 40 miles long and 4 miles wide; the island 7 miles in circumference. now we are near enough for a good view." "what makes it look so white, papa?" queried little elsie. "it is limestone rock, my child," replied her father. "see the village down near the water and the fort on higher ground--the white cliffs half covered with green foliage--beyond it the ruins of old fort holmes." "the one the british took in that war you told about, papa?" "the very same," he said. "i believe you were not by when i pointed it out to the others on our former visit to the island." "no, sir; i think neddie and i were asleep in our berths." "yes, so you were," said her mother. "ah, my dear," to her husband, "what a lovely sight it is by this witching light!" "yes," he said. "i think we will visit it again one of these days, when we can spend more time in viewing the various interesting places--such as the arch rock, a natural bridge almost as picturesque as the famous one in virginia, the rabbit's peak, giant's causeway, and the lover's leap. we are passing that last now; and i want you all to notice a projecting crag at the other end of the island, called robinson's folly. these are all famous places, and each has its legendary story." they steamed slowly past, greatly enjoying the moonlight view of the island; then, as it faded from sight, the speed of the vessel was increased, and before the older ones had retired they had entered lake huron. the pleasant weather continued, and most of them spent the greater part of the following day upon the deck. "we will reach detroit early this evening, i suppose, brother levis?" said rosie, in a tone of enquiry. "should nothing happen to prevent," was the pleasant-toned reply. "and now i wonder if my pupils can tell us most of the history of that city?" "beginning with the war of 1812, i suppose, as we have already gone over the story of the doings of pontiac?" "yes; but first i shall give you a few facts concerning its settlement, growth, and so forth: "it is by far the oldest city in the western part of our country, and older than either philadelphia or baltimore on the seaboard. it was founded by the french in 1670, as an outpost for the prosecution of the fur-trade; and as late as 1840 it still had less than 10,000 inhabitants. it is on the west side of detroit river, about 7 miles from lake st. clair and 18 from lake erie. can you tell me the meaning of the name detroit, elsie, daughter?" "no, papa, you never taught me that," replied the little girl. "it is the french for strait," he said. "the strait or river connecting lakes st. clair and erie gave the name to the city." "at the time we are talking of--when general hull was marching toward the place--detroit had only 160 houses and a population of about 800, most of them of french descent. it was a very small place considering its age, for it was a trading-post as early as 1620, and established as a settlement as early as 1701, when a jesuit missionary came there with one hundred men. so it was a very old town though so small; but seven years before there had been a fire that destroyed all the houses but one." "but there was a fort, was there not, papa?" asked grace. "yes," replied the captain; "on a hill back of the town, about 250 yards from the river; built by the english after their conquest of canada more than 100 years ago. it covered about 2 acres of ground, was quadrangular in shape, with bastions and barracks. it had embankments nearly 20 feet high, a deep, dry ditch, and was surrounded by a double row of pickets. "the town too was surrounded by strong pickets 14 feet high, with loopholes to shoot through. those pickets had been erected as defences against the indians, and were still in good condition. there were in them four strong gates on different streets." "then the british couldn't get in to harm the folks, could they, papa?" asked elsie. "they would be able to, when they had finished the fortifications they had begun to build on the opposite side of the river," replied the captain; "so general hull decided that it would be best to cross at once and drive them away. "it was not easy to find boats enough to take his twenty-two hundred men across, but by great exertion he succeeded in getting enough to carry four hundred at a time, but should the british see them crossing they would in all probability attack that small number before the others could cross to take part in the fight. so hull resorted to strategy. toward the evening of the 11th all the boats were sent down the river in full view of the british, while at the same time colonel m'arthur with his regiment marched away in the same direction. the british were deceived and made ready to dispute their passage. but after dark troops and boats returned up the river past detroit to bloody bridge, a mile and a half above the town, and made arrangements to cross the river there, which they did." "why was it called by that dreadful name--bloody bridge, papa?" asked elsie. "because the indians in pontiac's time attacked and killed so many--fifty-nine--of the english there. do you not remember my telling you about it?" "oh, yes, sir, when we went to mackinaw before!" exclaimed the little girl. "at dawn the regular troops and the ohio volunteers crossed over to the canadian side, and there hoisted the american flag," continued the captain. "but i shall not now go into all the details of the marching and fighting that followed--how hull changed his orders and restrained his brave, patriotic officers and men from attacks upon the enemy which they were eager to make, until they were almost convinced that he was either a traitor or a coward. "he was doubtless too old for the command which had been given him. he had done good service in the revolutionary war, and no doubt was really a patriot still, but he lacked energy, vigilance, and decision, and was too slow to take advantage of the necessities and mistakes of the foe; though he might have done much better but for the remissness of the secretary of war and general dearborn. his mistakes and dilatoriness bore very hard upon the brave fellows under him, who were burning with patriotic zeal for the discomfiture of the foe, and he perceived that, though they obeyed orders, there was a mutinous spirit among them that could scarcely be restrained. therefore he called a council of field-officers, and by their advice it was agreed to march immediately upon malden. "orders were at once issued for all the needful preparations and received with universal joy by the little army of men longing to defend their country. "but before these were completed, or the long summer day was quite over, there came another order from the commanding general; an order for the army to recross the river to detroit--abandoning canada and its people to the vengeance of the british; leaving unprotected its inhabitants, who, trusting hull's promised protection, had refused to take up arms for defence against the americans. that order was in consequence of news which had reached hull that a considerable force of british regulars, militia, and indians were coming to attack the little army in the rear." "did our soldiers like to go back without fighting the british first, papa?" asked elsie. "no, my child, not at all; but they were obedient soldiers, and did as they were ordered by their commander, though sullenly, feeling themselves humiliated by being compelled to act like cowards. during that night and the next morning they crossed the deep, dark river and encamped on the rolling plain back of fort detroit. "not quite all of them, however. major denny, with 130 convalescents, and a corps of artillerists, under lieutenant anderson, were left behind in a strong house that had been stockaded and called fort gowris. denny was ordered to defend the post to the last extremity, so long as attacked with only musketry, but to leave it if powerful artillery should be brought against it. "hull and his army were in need of supplies, which he knew were being sent him under the command of captain brush, who had come as far as the river raisin, but was detained there by the knowledge that a party of indians under tecumseh, with perhaps some british regulars, had crossed the detroit from malden and were lying near the mouth of the huron river, twenty-five miles below detroit, for the purpose of seizing the men, cattle, provisions, and mail that captain brush had in charge. "brush had asked hull to send him an escort. hull at first flatly refused; but, after much persuasion on the part of his officers, despatched major van horn with a detachment of two hundred men to join brush and help convoy the cattle, provisions, and mail. the major obeyed promptly, but was not successful; being surprised by the indians, who lay in ambush and attacked him by the way. the americans fought gallantly, but lost seventeen killed and several wounded. "when the news reached the fort hull was greatly disconcerted. his officers urged him to send a larger force to the aid of brush--as many as five hundred; but he refused. 'i can spare only one hundred,' he said. "that, as the officers knew, would not be enough; so, though indignant and alarmed for the safety of brush and the needed stores he was bringing, they had to give up the hope of helping him for the present. "but hull perceived that his troops were angry and felt mutinous, and it was then he called his officers together, and after consulting them gave the orders for preparations to march upon malden; but, as we have seen, before they could be carried out he changed his mind and ordered the army to cross the river to detroit. he now felt the need of securing the supplies under brush and ordered colonel miller to take six hundred men, go to that officer's assistance, and escort him to detroit. before starting upon their perilous expedition the troops paraded on the north side of jefferson avenue, and there colonel miller addressed them as they stood in marching order. 'soldiers,' he said, 'we are going to meet the enemy, and to beat them. the reverse of the 5th (that was van horn's) must be repaired. the blood of our brethren, spilled by the savages, must be avenged. i will lead you. you shall not disgrace yourselves or me. every man who shall leave the ranks or fall back without orders will be instantly put to death. i charge the officers to execute this order.' "then turning to the veteran fourth regiment of regulars, he said, 'my brave soldiers, you will add another victory to that of tippecanoe--another laurel to that gained upon the wabash last fall. if there is now any man in the ranks of the detachment who fears to meet the enemy, let him fall out and stay behind.' "he paused, and a loud huzza went up from the entire corps, and 'i'll not stay! i'll not stay!' came from every lip. "miller led them to the river rouge that night, and they bivouacked on its southern shore, having crossed it in two scows. early the next morning they took up their march again, major thompson maxwell, with his spies, leading the way; next a vanguard of forty men under captain snelling of the fourth regulars, while the infantry marched in two columns, about two hundred yards apart, the cavalry keeping the road in the centre in double file. the artillery followed, with flank guards of riflemen at suitable distances. marching in that order a line of battle could be formed almost instantly, but it was slow and toilsome work to move the cannon over the marshy ground along which their road lay. "it was sunday morning, the weather sultry, the sky overcast with clouds, not a leaf stirring on the trees; in the distance they could see a few fleet indians hurrying along; but nothing of much consequence occurred until some time in the afternoon, when they were nearing the indian village of maguaga, fourteen miles below detroit. but there a man named white, who had joined them as a new recruit, hurrying on ahead of the rest, was shot from his horse near the cabin of an indian chief called walk-in-the-water, by some indians concealed behind it, and before the vanguard could reach the spot he was scalped. "there were oak woods near maguaga, which captain snelling and his regulars reached between three and four o'clock in the afternoon. in the meantime the flying savages the americans had seen that morning, and who were the scouts of major muir, the commander of the forty-first british regiment, had carried to him, in his camp at brownstown, the news that the americans, strong in numbers, were advancing upon them. there were in that camp 100 regulars, a good many canadian militiamen, and between 200 and 300 indians. lossing mentions 4 chiefs of note among those--tecumseh, walk-in-the-water, split-log, and lame-hand. "these troops had been sent over from fort maiden by proctor to repeat their doings of the 5th--when van horn was defeated--cut off communication between detroit and captain brush at the raisin, and get possession of the stores he was bringing. "as soon as muir and tecumseh heard the news brought by the spies they broke up their camp, hurried on to maguaga, and formed an ambush in the oak woods, where the trees and bushes were thick enough to conceal them. there they watched for the coming of the americans and were joined by a fresh detachment of troops sent by general brock. "snelling and his soldiers had just entered the clearing when there came first a single shot, then the terrific yells of the scores of savages, followed by a terrible volley from the whole british line." "oh, papa! then did our soldiers turn round and run back to the others?" asked little elsie. "no, my child, they stood their ground and returned the fire like the brave men and patriots they were. colonel miller heard the sounds and he and his men started on the double quick, came up, and formed in battle order, and as they did so he waved his sword high over his head, crying in his clear, loud voice, 'charge, boys! charge!' his order was instantly, gallantly, and effectually obeyed, lossing tells us, while at the same time a six-pounder poured in a storm of grapeshot that harmed the foe not a little. "at the same time the michigan and ohio volunteers charged a body of indians at the left of the british and near the river, driving them back, and causing them to flee; and the whites in the ranks of the enemy, mistaking them for helpers of the americans, fired upon them also, and the indians returned it. so that our foes were helping us by fighting among themselves, and the mistake created such confusion in the british ranks that they wavered, broke, and fled, leaving tecumseh and his indians to bear the brunt of the fight. "muir rallied his men, in a good position, but the sound of firing in the woods on their left alarmed them again, so that they ran away, got in their boats, and fled across the river to malden with all possible expedition. "after a little more fighting the indians too broke, and miller ordered sloan to pursue them. but he seemed to hesitate, and snelling rushing up to him gave him a peremptory order to dismount, sprang into the saddle himself, and dashed away at the head of his troops, his red hair streaming in the wind, for he had lost his hat in the course of the fight. he pursued the flying foe for more than two miles; then lieutenant-colonel miller, realizing the danger of an ambuscade, and that night was approaching, and the wounded needed attention, ordered a suspension of the chase." "ah, that was a victory!" exclaimed walter; "one that ought to have encouraged hull to defend detroit; it seems it didn't, though." "were there many killed in that battle, papa?" asked grace. "of the americans 18 were killed and 57 wounded," replied the captain. "the british, according to their account, lost 24 of their regulars, only 1 of whom was killed. they failed to mention how many of the militia and indians, but our troops found 40 of the indians dead on the field; how many of the militia, if any, i do not know. "miller was anxious to follow up his advantage, to press on to the assistance of captain brush and the getting of his stores to detroit; so sent a messenger to hull to carry the news of his successful fight with the enemy and ask for a supply of provisions. "in response hull sent colonel m'arthur with 100 men and 600 rations, ordering him to go down the river in boats to the relief of miller and his men. m'arthur, who seems to have been always ready and prompt, set out a little past two in the morning, in nine boats, and in the darkness and rain passed the british vessels _queen charlotte_ and _hunter_, and reached his destination in safety. "then the wounded were at once carried to the boats to be taken to detroit. but it was now daylight, and it was found impossible to pass the british vessels. fortunately m'arthur had foreseen that difficulty, and ordered wagons sent down, and now leaving the boats he had the wounded carried through the woods to the road, placed in the wagons, and so taken the rest of the way to their destination." "but what did he do with the boats, papa?" asked elsie. "the british took them," replied her father. "colonel cass had gone down and tried to secure them, but the enemy had already got possession. "miller had been thrown from his horse during the fight, and was too much injured to press on immediately to the river raisin. he sent a messenger to hull, and cass met him on his way. he knew that time was precious, that proctor would be likely to send a larger force to prevent our men from reaching brush, and attack him himself. therefore cass wanted to take miller's place and hurry on with the detachment to brush's assistance, so he sent a laconic despatch to general hull: 'sir, colonel miller is sick; may i relieve him?--l. cass.' no reply came, and he returned to detroit, meeting on the way an express taking positive orders to miller for him and his troops to return to headquarters. "miller and his men were only twenty-two miles from the raisin, and were sorely disappointed by this order, but obeyed it, leaving their camp at noon on the day after the battle, and going slowly back to detroit." "oh, i do think that was too bad!" exclaimed lucilla. "i don't think i could have obeyed such a man as hull." "it would have been even worse than rendering obedience to captain raymond has sometimes proved, eh?" her father said, with a humorous look and smile. "oh, ten thousand times, papa, dear!" she answered earnestly. "haven't you found out that for years it has been--almost always just a pleasure to me to obey you?" "it is long since i have felt at all doubtful of that, daughter," he returned, in tender tones. chapter vi. for a moment captain raymond seemed lost in thought. it was a question from his daughter elsie that caused him to resume the thread of his narrative. "papa," she asked, "had the british got their guns all ready to fire at the americans when colonel miller and his men got back to detroit? and did they begin at once?" "no; the british were still busy with their preparations, with which general hull did not seem disposed to interfere; and it was hard indeed for his brave, patriotic officers to obey his orders to refrain from doing so. they began to think he was either a traitor or an imbecile, and by no means fit to have the command. they consulted together, and concluded that salvation for the little army could be secured only by depriving him of the command and giving it to another. miller was asked to take it, but declined and proposed m'arthur, who was the senior officer of the volunteers and one of the most vigilant, active, and energetic men in the service. "but when it came to carrying out their plans they hesitated to take so bold a step. relief might come soon from ohio, governor meigs accompany it in person, and then the honor could be properly tendered him. colonel cass acted promptly upon that suggestion, writing to the governor a very strong and urgent appeal for help to be forwarded with all haste; telling him that the army was in a very critical situation 'from causes not fit to be put on paper'; that maiden might easily have been reduced, but the golden opportunity had been allowed to pass unimproved. he asked for, at least, two thousand men, and that the governor would accompany them. "but before this letter had been shown to the other officers the british were collecting in force at sandwich, and cass added a postscript. 'since the other side of this letter was written, new circumstances have arisen. the british force is opposite, and our situation had nearly reached its crisis. believe all the bearer will tell you. believe it, however it may astonish you, as much as if told by one of us. even a c---is talked of by e----. the bearer will supply the vacancy. on you we depend.' the first blank meant a capitulation, the second commanding general." "but why didn't he say what he meant, papa?" asked elsie. "because there was danger of the letter falling into the hands of the wrong person. it was signed by cass, finley, m'arthur, taylor, and colonel elijah brush, of the michigan militia." "was major denny still on the canadian side, captain?" asked evelyn. "no; he had evacuated fort gowris and crossed the river to detroit. on his doing so the british under captain dixon of the royal engineers immediately took possession and planted a battery so as to command detroit. the american artillery begged leave from hull to open upon them from the fort with twenty-four pounders, but were forbidden, and the enemy was allowed to go on unmolested with his preparations to fire upon detroit." "well!" exclaimed lucilla, "i'm sure that looked as if he was in league with his country's foes; unless he had lost his reason." "yes," said her father, "yet i do not doubt his patriotism or his intention to do what he deemed best under the circumstances; but he was timid, and as i have said before, did not receive the help and encouragement he had a right to expect from the secretary of war or general dearborn, who failed to inform him of the armistice, which would have enabled him to wait for the arrival of needed provisions and reinforcements. and he was too honest himself to suspect the deceptions the british practised upon him--dres