Chapter X: The Uniform

Mr. Bradford was in no haste to return home on this evening when he had decorated Fluff and provided Benny with the means of getting a uniform.

He had come to assure the crew that he fully appreciated the discipline and prompt attention to duty which made possible his rescue, for had thirty seconds been wasted after Sam Hardy’s summons, the boat would have arrived too late.

“I never before fully realized the value of life-saving stations or the heroism of life-saving crews,” he said, addressing Keeper Downey. “Perhaps it was because I never knew what perfection of discipline and drill was to be found among the men. I have often wondered why this service should be under the supervision of the Treasury Department, when one would naturally expect it to be a branch of the navy.”

“The reason is, Mr. Bradford, that a deep-water sailor, as a rule, knows very little about surf work,” Tom Downey replied quickly, and with considerable warmth. “You will find that among all the mariners we aid, no more than one out of every hundred has had any experience in making a landing on a shore like this when the water is rough, and it’s not to be expected of them. The life-saving service is recruited from shore fishermen--men who are accustomed to going back and forth through the surf in all kinds of weather. Put the best sailor that ever jockeyed a spar into our surf-boat, and he’d be out of his element, as you can well understand. Therefore the life-saving service is really the duty of landsmen, and has nothing to do with such as the navy would be forced to employ.”

Before the visitor could reply Sam Hardy began making preparations to go on patrol, and Benny felt it his duty to accompany him, particularly after having begged permission to share the labor, although he was eager to hear the remainder of the conversation.

“There’s no need for you to go out this night, Benjamin, and I think you are called on to stay here till Mr. Bradford leaves,” Sam said, observing the expression on the boy’s face.

No. 8 had no idea of allowing inclination to interfere with the duties he had assumed, especially now that he had considered himself a regularly enrolled member of the crew.

“Mr. Bradford knows that somebody must go on patrol, and I’ll never be trusted alone if I don’t hurry up with the learning,” Benny replied promptly, putting on the pea-jacket and sou’wester Joe Cushing had given him.

“You will come and see me to-morrow?” the visitor asked, and Sam replied for the lad:

“You can count on his givin’ you a call, Mr. Bradford, although we won’t have overly much time to spend in neighboring.”

Then the two shook hands with the gentleman, and went out into the night on their errand of mercy.

Benny was unusually quiet as they walked along the bluffs, glancing from time to time over the placid waters illumined by the moon, and after ten minutes or more had passed in silence Sam asked:

“What has gone wrong with you, No. 8? Ain’t a solid silver collar rich enough for Fluff C. Foster, or did you think the medal might have been bigger?”

“I’d be terribly ashamed of myself to think anything like that, Mr. Hardy. Of course the collar and medal ain’t any better than Fluff deserves; but they’re a good deal nicer than I ever thought he’d get, and it makes me feel fine to think of his having them.”

“Then what is keepin’ you so glum? You haven’t opened your mouth since we left the station.”

“That is ’cause I’ve been thinking.”

“About what, No. 8?”

“I’m afraid I shan’t do enough, and that the crew will find out I ain’t coming up to the praise I’m getting. Everybody has been so good to me since the ship was wrecked, that I can’t even begin to pay it back.”

“There isn’t any danger so long as you have such thoughts in your head, Benjamin. I don’t believe in praisin’ boys, as a general thing, because it’s apt to spoil ’em; but you don’t seem to be one of that kind. Keep on as you’ve started, No. 8, and I guarantee all hands of us will be satisfied.”

Then Sam Hardy told Benny of a boy who had been saved from a wreck two years previous, and who was anything rather than an agreeable companion, following this story with another, until the four hours passed so quickly that it seemed to No. 8 as if they had not been on duty one quarter of the required time.

Mr. Bradford had started for home nearly two hours before Benny and Sam came in, their night’s work finished, and no one except Fluff was awake.

He greeted them with his shrill barking, which Benny checked quickly lest the others should be awakened, and when the two whose time for duty had come were aroused, Sam whispered:

“Now we’ll turn in, No. 8, and see to it that you’re up bright and early to-morrow. You’re not to do any work in the kitchen, but will eat breakfast with the crew, so that we shan’t be delayed in setting out.”

Benny did not obey this command strictly. Next morning when the cook slipped out of bed softly to avoid disturbing the others, the lad heard and followed him without delay.

“You could have had a good half-hour’s sleep before breakfast will be ready, No. 8.”

“Yes, sir; but I wouldn’t have done my share of the work here,” Benny replied hesitatingly, for the cook had spoken sharply.

“Members of the crew who have a day’s liberty are not expected to do anything around the station, and you’re down for leave of absence from midnight.”

“That’s no reason why I shouldn’t do what I can before we leave,” Benny replied stoutly as he set about the usual morning duties, and until breakfast was on the table he insisted upon aiding the cook.

Then Sam sternly ordered him to “knock-off” and make ready for the journey.

“We’ve got a five-mile pull before us, an’ I’m not of the mind to spend our entire day at the oars.”

Until this moment Benny had supposed they would walk from the station to the city, and on learning that Sam intended to make the journey in the dory which the crew used for fishing, a certain wistful expression came into his eyes.

“Now what have you got on your mind, No. 8?” Sam asked, quick to note the change on the boy’s face.

“I was wondering--I thought--I don’t suppose you’d want to take Fluff, Mr. Hardy. He’s been in a boat very often, and knows how to behave himself.”

“Afraid Maje will make trouble if you leave him behind?”

“No, sir, it wasn’t that; but you see he won’t have many chances to go away from the station, and I want him to show his collar and medal whenever it’s possible. He had a bath yesterday, and is as clean as a whistle.”

“There’s no reason why he shouldn’t go, an’ I’m not certain but Mr. Bradford would like to see him rigged out in his finery.”

Benny no longer gave any heed to his breakfast, but spent all the remaining time in combing Fluff’s silken hair, and when Sam Hardy announced that he was ready to start, the dog was looking his best, with the medal hanging in the most conspicuous position.

“He’s looking a good deal finer than you are, No. 8,” Joe Cushing said with a laugh. “That gorgeous collar don’t correspond with your old pea-jacket and sou’-wester.”

“It don’t make any difference about me, so long as he’s the way Mrs. Clark always wanted to see him,” Benny replied, choking back a sob as his mind thus involuntarily went into the past. “Folks wouldn’t notice a boy like me, but they always stare when Fluff walks along looking like everything belonged to him.”

“Wait till you’re togged out in a uniform, No. 8, and then I’ll answer for it you get as much attention from the people as does Fluff. I’m going into town with you then, and what a dash we’ll cut!”

Joe Cushing laughed in anticipation of that moment, and while he was thus amused Sam beckoned Benny to follow him.

The dory was lying near the water’s edge, and it only required that she should be launched in order to begin the journey.

Fluff took his place in the stern-sheets as if accustomed to this method of travelling; Sam took up the oars, refusing most decidedly Benny’s proposal that he be allowed to do his share of the rowing, and as the boat glided out of the little cove the crew at the station cheered right heartily.

“It sounds as if they were glad to be rid of us,” Benny suggested, and Sam replied:

“That’s their way of showin’ that they’ll be pleased to see you back. I might leave a dozen times, an’ nobody would so much as poke his nose out of the door to see if I got away all right.”

“But they count on your coming home just the same,” Benny replied earnestly, as if thinking his comrade might be jealous because more attention was bestowed upon a newcomer than on himself.

“I reckon they do, No. 8; but an old fellow like me don’t cut any such figger as does a boy, an’ a dog what’s wearin’ a medal of honor,” and Sam Hardy laughed heartily, whereat Benny began to understand that no jealousy lurked in his heart.

A most enjoyable voyage did this prove to be for No. 8 and Fluff, even though the temperature was many degrees below freezing and the wind piercing cold. Sam Hardy did not appear to be in any very great hurry to reach the city, once he had put off from the station, but told stories of heroism displayed by his comrades, at the same time that he fed the dog liberally with lumps of sugar.

“We’re out for a holiday,” he said when Benny suggested that it was not well for Fluff to have such a feast, “an’ I’m countin’ on his enjoyin’ it as well as us.”

“But it may make him sick.”

“Then it will teach him not to be so greedy another time.”

“I’m afraid he won’t remember it.”

“Most likely not, No. 8, most likely not. Boys an’ dogs are much alike in that particular--they won’t learn by experience. Did you ever think what a wise lad he would be who was eager to learn by the experience of others?”

Benny was considerably puzzled by this remark, and the surfman continued gravely:

“Look at it in this light, lad: you’ve been thrown with them as were older than yourself a good portion of the time you’ve lived in this world. You’ve heard of this one’s havin’ what people call ’bad luck,’ or of that one’s doin’ some foolish thing. Now suppose you’d stored all that up in your memory. Wouldn’t you be able to steer clear of the first man’s bad luck, an’ keep yourself from committin’ the same folly you condemned in the other?”

Benny nodded gravely. This proposition was something entirely new to him, and he believed it to be a most valuable suggestion.

“A boy who was willing to learn from the experience of others would soon be wiser than the average run of lads, and, what’s more, he’d save himself many a sore time; but it ain’t done by young people any more than Fluff will remember, in case he’s sick to-morrow, that the next time sugar’s offered him he should be less greedy.”

Benny was so interested in this method of acquiring knowledge that he continued to discuss the matter until the dory was made fast alongside one of the city piers, and Sam said laughingly:

“I reckon we’d best not spend any more of our time discussin’ the matter; it’ll serve us out on patrol bright nights, when there’s little call to keep a very sharp lookout. Now we’re bound for Mr. Bradford’s office, and then to the tailor’s. You’ll be a terrible swell before many days, No. 8.”

“I’m not going to wear the uniform except when I go into the city, so there’s no danger of my doing very much swelling,” Benny replied with a laugh, and then Sam Hardy was ready to lead the way to the sportsman’s office.

No. 8 did not dare allow Fluff to walk through the streets lest some evil-disposed dog should pick a quarrel with him; but he took good care both the collar and medal could be seen while the little fellow was in his arms.

Their reception by Mr. Bradford was exceedingly friendly--almost too much so, Benny thought, when the gentleman insisted on introducing them to his acquaintances, and telling the story of the rescue.

The dog was petted as perhaps he never had been before, which was pleasing to his master; but, as Benny afterward told Sam Hardy confidentially, there was no reason why he should be praised for what Fluff C. Foster had done.

Then the little party went to the tailor, who was ordered to make a uniform exactly like the one worn by Sam Hardy, and, in addition, a second suit of clothes was decided upon, so that the boy might have a proper outfit when the time came for him to go to school.

The surfman, No. 8, and Fluff dined with Mr. Bradford on this day, after which they were treated to a carriage ride, and so eager was the gentleman to give them pleasure that but for Sam Hardy’s persistency in setting out on the return voyage at an early hour, they might not have succeeded in regaining the station until late in the night.

“It has been what you might call a great day, No. 8,” the surfman said when they had bidden their entertainer adieu on the pier and the dory was out of the harbor. “I’m not certain but that two such outings as this would spoil you an’ Fluff C. Foster for work at the station.”

“We’ve had a good time, and Mr. Bradford has been very kind,” Benny said thoughtfully; “but I’m not so sure as I’d like to try it over again very soon.”

“Why not?”

“Because, in the first place, I don’t deserve it, even if Fluff does; and then again, it ain’t very nice to have folks praising you up when there’s no reason for it.”

“Then you don’t think Mr. Bradford had any right to lay it on quite so thick about what you’d done?”

“No, because it wasn’t altogether true. Any fellow who was all alone in this world with a dog like Fluff, would work mighty hard if folks gave him a home, same’s the crew have given me, so what I do don’t count. Now if Mr. Bradford had told the people we met how good you all were to take us, I’d had a much better time.”

“You’re too modest, Benjamin, an’ that’s a fault every boy don’t have, I’m sorry to say. Now about that uniform of yours. You didn’t so much as ask me when it was to be sent out to the station.”

“It wouldn’t have looked very well to be in a hurry when some one makes me such a splendid present.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t, eh? Well, the toggery wasn’t for me, therefore I had no call to be so bashful. The uniform is to be ready in four days, and about that time Tom Downey will be goin’ into town. The other clothes are to be finished in a week. When they come we’ll--Hello, what’s that steamer layin’ off there for?”

The dory was almost within sight of the station when Sam Hardy ceased rowing very suddenly to gaze at a steamer which appeared to be at anchor a mile or more off the shore, and Benny was wholly at a loss to understand why his companion had become so thoroughly excited.

“She don’t seem to be in any trouble,” he ventured to say, and Sam settling down to the oars as if believing he had a severe task before him, replied:

“Her captain is huntin’ for it, if he comes to anchor in that place without precious good reasons. A shoal makes out just there, an’ I’ve seen two good vessels go to pieces on it. That steamer is aground, Benny!”

There was nothing startling to the lad in this announcement. The craft lay as if afloat; the wind was not strong enough to raise a very heavy sea, and nothing indicated any sudden change in the weather.

“I’ll admit that it don’t mean very much now, lad,” the surfman continued as if reading his companion’s thoughts; “but on this coast at this time of the year, no one can say when everything may be changed. There! The captain is beginning to understand that matters ain’t altogether lovely.”

The steamer’s whistle had begun to sound a whistle that help of some kind was required, and Benny believed the captain was calling upon the life-saving crew for assistance, until Sam said:

“She’s whistlin’ for a tug; but with the wind in this quarter it ain’t likely to do much good, unless she is sighted by one.”

“Our crew will see her.”

“Not before sunset, when the patrol goes out; but they’ll hear the whistle, an’ find her by that means.”

Sam was rowing at his best speed, and Benny watched eagerly for the appearance of the life-saving crew, but no one had appeared in sight when the dory was brought within hailing distance of the stranded steamer.

The rail was lined with heads, showing that she had passengers aboard, and on the bridge was a group of officers.

“Boat ahoy!” some one shouted, and Sam replied, standing up as he did, so that his uniform might be seen.

“Are you a member of a life-saving crew?”

“Ay, sir; the station is a mile and a half away around the point. Are you in need of assistance?”

“We want tugs. Can you telephone from your quarters?”

“Ay, sir.”

“Ask that two steamers be sent at once. We’re not heavily aground; but to such an extent that our engines are of no avail.”

“Shall we take off your passengers?”

“There’s no need of it. We can lie here easily enough, if it isn’t possible to haul us off before morning.”

“I’m not so certain of that, sir. The tide will fall twelve inches or more before the ebb, and the water hereabouts is rough.”

“Send a message for me to the city, and that will be enough,” the master replied curtly, and Sam took up the oars again, pulling vigorously toward the station.

“There’s what you call a pig-headed captain,” he said when the dory was some distance away. “It stands to reason he doesn’t know anything about this coast, else he’d never gone on that shoal, an’ he had too good an opinion of his own abilities to so much as look at the chart. There are no tugs around here that can pull him off before high tide, and in the meanwhile he’s likely to find that the steamer won’t lay as easy as he’s countin’ on.”

“There comes our surf-boat!” Benny cried, pointing toward a projecting cliff which hid the station from view, and around which the life-saving crew were just appearing. “I knew they’d answer the steamer’s signal as soon as it could be done.”

“Of course they would, lad, there are no sleepy heads among us, if I do say it. Tom Downey will read that captain a lecture, I reckon.”

The dory and the surf-boat were soon side by side, and the keeper asked for information concerning the steamer.

Sam repeated the conversation he had had with the captain, and Mr. Downey replied:

“Send the message as soon as you get back, and then go on duty at once, taking up a station directly opposite where the steamer lies. Flash the Coston twice if she’s likely to need us between now and midnight. Joe Cushing shall cover the remainder of your beat.”

Then word was given for the crew to “pull away,” and Sam bent to his oars as if time was very precious.

“Does Mr. Downey think it is possible the steamer can come to any harm in such pleasant weather?” Benny asked in surprise.

“There’s no telling what may happen, lad, and Downey don’t intend to get himself into trouble if it can be prevented.”

“What trouble can come to him if the captain of the steamer won’t allow the crew to do anything?”

“In case there should be loss of life, even after what’s been said and done, all hands of us would be called for an explanation as to why we didn’t do our duty. Let any trouble come to that steamer, an’ we’re bound to stand an investigation, for the Superintendent of the Service is mighty sharp in such affairs.”

Benny could not understand how it might be possible to blame a crew who had not been allowed to give their services, and Sam was too deeply intent on the business in hand to go into any lengthy explanation.

“I’ll figger it all out for you some time when we’re on patrol,” he said, and No. 8 understood from the tone of his voice that the surfman was not inclined to indulge further in conversation.

When, ten minutes later, the dory was pulled into the little cove near the station, Sam Hardy landed hurriedly, calling out to Benny as he did so:

“Make her fast, lad, and follow me. I’ll set the cook to work on our supper, for we’re not likely to have another chance for anything to eat till midnight.”

No. 8 did as he was bidden, and when he entered the station Sam was just coming from the telephone.

“There’s little show of getting two tugs out to the steamer much before high water, and I’m thinkin’ the captain may be obliged to call on us after all, unless he’s shipped a different set of passengers than usually travel. Turn to an’ fill yourself up with coffee and hearty food, Benjamin, for we’ve got a long stretch of patrol duty ahead, if nothing worse comes of this night’s business.”