Fairview Boys at Lighthouse Cove/Chapter 12
CHAPTER XII
DRIFTING
Somehow, in spite of the fact that they tried to be brave, and to meet the danger with as stout hearts as possible, the Fairview boys could not repress a feeling of fear as the meaning of Bob's words came to them. And the speaker himself shuddered a little as he looked out on the heaving waters of the ocean, as the lightning made them plain to him.
"Well, there's one good thing," said Frank, taking a long breath, "we're not so likely to run into anything out here as we were in the cove or inlet."
"No, that's so," agreed Bob. "But the ocean is an awfully big place to be out on—in a small boat."
"This isn't such a small boat," said Sammy, quickly. "It's better to be in this than in our rowboat."
"Indeed it is!" said Frank. "Maybe we'll be all right by morning."
"That's so—we will have to stay out here all night, I guess," said Bob, ruefully. "There'll be no chance of being picked up until daylight, I reckon."
"If we're picked up then we'll be lucky," added Sammy. "This is different from Rainbow Lake and Pine Island. It's so much larger."
"But some ship might see our lights, and come for us," suggested Frank.
Bob shook his head.
"I was talking to Silas about that the other day," he said. "No ships come as close in shore as this. Some trawlers, that catch moss-bunker fish for fertilizer, do, in the daytime, to let down their nets, but not at night."
"Then what chance have we of being rescued?" asked Sammy.
"Oh, I guess we've as good a chance as any fellows would have who had this happen to them," went on Bob. "In the morning the chances are some ship will see us. We can make some sort of flag, for a distress signal, I think. If we knew how we might fix our lanterns now, to show that we needed help. But I don't know how to do it."
Neither did the other boys, so it was decided to wait until morning. Besides, none of them cared to go outside in the rain and darkness, now that they were on the open ocean. It gave them a sort of "scary" feeling. They did not say so, but they were a bit afraid, as they admitted afterward, of falling overboard.
The wind and rain still kept up, but the thunder and lightning were not so bad, and for this they were glad. Then, too, they were not tossed about so violently as they had been while in the waters of the Cove and the inlet.
There the shallow waters were more quickly disturbed by the wind, while the deeper sea took longer to raise large waves.
But, for all that, the Skip swayed and rocked in the grip of the storm, for she was but a small boat to be on such broad waters. In the hands of Silas Warner she might have ridden more easily, for her owner would have known how to steer her.
Then, too, he would have started the motor, and he could have kept her head to the wind and waves, and this is always wise in a storm.
But the boys could only let her drift, and this meant that at times the craft would dip down into the trough of the sea, sinking with a motion that made the lads feel as though their stomachs were going to drop out.
Fortunately they were not seasick, for they were too used to the water at home, and had been in some rough weather before. So they were accustomed to the irregular motion. But it was not the more pleasant on this account.
Again the Skip would be blown around with her head to the wind and waves, and at such times she would rise on the crest of a big roller until, it seemed to the boys, as if she were going to shoot toward the sky.
Then the boat would slip down on the other side of the big hill of water like a sled coasting down a snowy incline and the boys would look at each other as though they feared they were going to the bottom of the sea.
But always the stanch little Skip would come up again.
"She sure is a dandy boat!" exclaimed Bob, and the others agreed with him.
It was now about eight o'clock and quite dark. The storm still rumbled and rolled about the boys, but they were getting used to it now.
"It's dying out," said Frank, as he put on some of his clothes that had dried by the oil stove.
"Yes, by morning it will be calm again," said Sammy.
"If we could only get home by morning," spoke Bob, a bit sadly, and, in spite of his resolution to be brave, he could not keep a few tears from his eyes as he thought of his mother, who, he knew, would be frantic about him.
"Don't worry," said Frank, soothingly, for he guessed of what Bob was thinking. "Silas will go there and tell your folks all about it. Bob. Then he'll organize a searching party, and come after us in a big boat."
"Yes, if he can find us," said Bob, gloomily.
"Oh, sure he can find us!" exclaimed Sammy.
There was silence for a while, with the Skip drifting on in the storm and darkness. Occasionally a bigger wave than usual would break over the high bow, and come crashing down on the roof of the cabin. At times the weight of water was so heavy that the boys feared the roof would be crushed in, but the Skip was made to stand hard knocks, and well she did it.
"Well, what are we going to do?" asked Sammy, after a bit. The boys had put on their clothing, which was warm and dry, and they were sitting about the cabin, looking at one another, and wondering what would happen next.
"What can we do?" asked Bob. "We can only drift, until morning."
"Then I say let's go to bed," proposed Frank. "We can't do any good by sitting up, and maybe we can get some rest."
"But supposing some vessel runs us down in the night?" suggested Bob.
"That isn't likely to happen with our lights burning. Besides, staying awake won't stop that."
The boys were tired enough to turn in and stretch out on the bunks, though possibly they were too alarmed and excited to sleep. As Frank had said, their outside lights, the red and green and white, were glowing, and any vessel, seeing them, would not run them down.
"I say let's try something before we go to bed," said Bob.
"Try what?" asked Frank.
"Try to make someone hear us. Let's go outside and blow the air whistle and yell. Maybe some passing ship may hear us and take us on board."
"That's a good idea!" exclaimed Sammy. "We'd better go out anyhow, and look to see if the lanterns are all right. We wouldn't want them to go out in the night."
It was still raining, but not so hard, and, putting on the suits 
They appeared to be alone on the ocean.
of oilskins, the three chums made their way out to the open deck of the Skip, behind the cabin bulkhead.
Here they felt the full force of the wind, and the rain stung into their faces. Also they felt the salty spray of the ocean as it blew over the bow. All about them they could see the white-topped billows, and they looked larger than they had from the cabin. Still the Skip seemed to ride them well.
A glance showed the boys that the lights were all right. They were full of oil—Silas had told them he always kept them ready for instant use.
"Now for a yell!" called Sammy, and the boys called together.
Several times they did this, at the same time blowing the compressed air whistle. But there came no answer, nor could they see the lights of any passing ship. They appeared to be alone on the ocean in the storm and darkness.
"It's no use," said Bob, sadly.
"No, let's go inside," suggested Frank.
"Besides, we want to save some of the air in the tank to blow the whistle to-morrow," went on Sammy. "We can compress the air only when the motor is running, and we can't start that."
"Maybe we can," suggested Bob. "I'm going to have a try at that in the morning, if we aren't picked up before."
"Maybe it will start by just turning the switch. Silas said it did, sometimes," spoke Frank.
"Well, don't try it now," exclaimed Bob, quickly. "We don't want to get it going when we don't know which way to steer. Let's wait."
And wait they did.
Into the cabin they went again, out of the wind and rain. The shelter seemed a cozy place in contrast to the blackness outside.
"Didn't it all happen suddenly?" remarked Bob. "One minute we were at the dock, waiting for Silas to come back, and then, all at once, the storm came up, we broke loose, and had started to drift. It all seems like a dream."
"I wish it was a dream," murmured Frank, "and that we'd wake up in Barnacle Cottage."
"I wonder if anyone could have cut or loosened our rope," spoke Sammy, as though he were thinking of something.
"What makes you say that?" asked Frank quickly. "The rope broke—that's what happened."
"I don't know about that," went on Sammy, mysteriously. "If a person had been on that dock, and saw the boat tied there, it would be very easy to slip the rope off the post."
"Yes, that's true enough," admitted Frank. "But who would do such a mean thing as that; especially when a storm was coming up, and we would be in danger? Who would do such a thing?"
"Well, the queer old professor who drove us away," answered Sammy.
"There! I knew he was going to say that!" cried Bob.
"Oh, well, of course I'm not saying for sure," spoke Sammy, quickly. "But it might have happened. If that old man had been around he might have thought that was a good chance to get rid of us, so we wouldn't bother him again."
"Well, that's all foolishness!" exclaimed Bob. "And, even if he did it, I'm not going to bother him again, anyhow."
"I am!" declared Sammy. "I'm going to find out what he knows about pirate gold!"
Frank and Bob laughed at him, but Sammy was very much in earnest.
On and on drifted the Skip, driven by wind and tide. The night wore on, and the boys, unable to stay up any longer, went to the bunks to rest, lashing the steering wheel to keep the rudder straight. They did not know where they were going. They only knew they were drifting.
The rain did not come down so hard now, and the wind had slackened. Only once in a while did it lighten and thunder.
It must have been near morning, for a faint, hazy light was coming in through the bull's-eyes windows, when Sammy was suddenly awakened in his bunk by feeling a shock. He jumped out into the middle of the cabin, crying:
"Fellows, we struck something! Maybe we've gone ashore!"