CHAPTER III. A RESCUE UNREWARDED
glance over the situation. A foot and a half or so of the boom had split off from the end, and the mainsail was badly torn. The main-sheet had been snapped by the jibing of the boom, but the break in the boom was beyond the point where the sheet was fastened. The broken end of the sheet was trailing in the water. The boat could be got in hand if that were regained.
Seizing the end of the main-sheet that remained in the boat, and casting it loose from the cleat, Harvey found he had still the use of a rope of considerable length. Coiling this up, and hanging it over one arm, he regained the deck, over the small cabin, and took up his position on the port side of the boat. The stay on that side had been saved from carrying away only because the quarter of the Viking had arrested the force of the boom. Having this stay, then, to hold fast to, Harvey leaned over the side, as far as he was able, passed an end of the rope about the boom, took a turn, and made it fast.
Carrying the other end aft, Harvey handed it to the youth, who stood gazing at his efforts stupidly, evidently knowing not in the least what to do.
Now you hold on to that, said Harvey, and when I tell you to, you haul as hard as ever you can.
The youth took the rope silently and sullenly.
Harvey sprang again upon the deck, caught the flying ends of the halyards and ran the mainsail up. It was slow work, for the sail was soaked with water, and the tear in it began to rip more when the strain was brought to bear. When Harvey had hoisted the sail sufficiently so that the topping-lift would have lifted the boom, he started for that; but it had parted, and was of no use.
Well, said Harvey, well get the boom up a little more, with the sail, no matter if it does tear. We cant help it.
So he took another pull at the peak-halyard. The boom lifted a little.
Thats enough, said Harvey. Now haul in on that sheet lively, before the sail tears any more. Get that boom in quick!
The youth, with no great spirit nor heartiness in his movements, did as directed, and the boom came inboard. Then Harvey once more dropped the sail.
He was brim full of life, was Jack Harvey, and now that there was something here worth doing, and necessary to be done quickly, he was eager with the spirit of it.
Have you got anything aboard here to bail with? he asked, hurriedly; and, without waiting for the more sluggish movements of the other, he darted forward, through the water in the cockpit, to where he had espied a pail half-submerged under the seat. With this he began bailing furiously, dipping up the pailfuls and dashing them out over the side, as though the boat were sinking and he had but one chance for life in a hundred.
Harvey was working in this way, with never a thought of his companion, when presently there came a hail from the Viking . He paused and looked across the water to where Henry Burns was standing at the wheel of the larger craft, with a look of amusement on his face.
I say, Jack, called Henry Burns, drawling very slightly, as was his habit at times when other youths of more excitable temperament would speak quickly, that other chap aboard there is just dying to help bail the boat. Why dont you let him do his share of it?
Harvey glanced back astern at his companion of the sailboat. What he saw caused an angry flush to spread over his face. But the next moment the cool effrontery of it made him laugh.
The youth whom Harveys surprised gaze rested upon was a rather tall, thin, sallow chap, with an expression on his face that looked like a perpetual sneer. He wore no yachting costume nor clothing of any sort fit for roughing it. Instead, he was rather flashily dressed, in clothes more often affected by men of sporting propensities than youths of any age. In a scarf of brilliant and gaudy tint he wore a large pin in the form of a horseshoe, with imitation brilliants in it. In fact, his dress and whole demeanour were of one who had a far more intimate knowledge of certain phases of life than he should. A telltale smear upon the fingers of his right hand told of the smoking habit, which accounted for his thin and sallow appearance and which habit was now in evidence.
It was this latter that particularly angered Harvey, as he paused, perspiring, from his work.
The youth had seated himself calmly on the edge of the after-rail, with an elbow rested on one knee. In this comfortable attitude, and smoking a cigarette, he was aimlessly watching Harvey work.
Harvey glared for a moment in amazement. Then his face relaxed.
I say! he exclaimed, throwing down the pail, wiping his brow, and advancing aft toward the other youth, this seems to be a sort of afternoon tea, or reception, with cigarettes provided by the
host.
No, thanks, he added, shortly, as the other reached a hand into his pocket and proffered a box of them. Youre just too kind and generous for anything. But I dont smoke them. Some of my crew used to. But I tell little Tim Reardon that thats what keeps him from growing any. Hes at them all the time. Guess you are, too, by the looks of you.