Chapter XIX: The Decision

Although Mr. Bradford’s advice and willingness to take charge of Benny’s business had given great relief of mind to all concerned, the fears of the crew concerning the future were by no means dispelled.

When the gentleman had stated so positively that several weeks must necessarily elapse before the question could properly be settled, even Benny felt as if a great load of care had suddenly been removed; but on the following morning, after the men had had time to view the matter from every point, there appeared much in it which was not pleasing.

“It’s just like this,” Sam Hardy said to Joe Cushing when the two met behind the engine-house for a private conversation on the morning following Mr. Bradford’s visit. “It’s just like this: If Andrew Foster turns out to be some crusty old curmudgeon who’s bound to have his own way, he’ll insist on Benny’s goin’ to him the very minute he finds out we want to keep the lad, therefore it stands us in hand to keep mighty quiet as to our wishes.”

“Well, supposin’ he does claim the lad?” Joe Cushing replied hotly. “I’ve thought this thing over a good bit since Mr. Bradford left, an’ have made up my mind that, so far as I’m concerned, No. 8 is at liberty to stay with us if he says the word. What’s the reason he won’t make as much of a man while stoppin’ here as if he was in York State? I go in for tellin’ Andrew Foster that we haven’t got the time to run around huntin’ up his relations; but we count on keepin’ the boy who was given to us by the sea.”

“The rest of the crew wouldn’t agree to anything quite so strong as that,” Hardy suggested thoughtfully.

“What’s the reason they wouldn’t? Dick Sawyer, Henry Robbins, and Henderson said not half an hour ago that they’d back me in holdin’ on to the lad, never mind how many uncles flashed up.”

“What about Downey?”

“He wants to keep Benny with us, an’ would come out strong except that he’s afraid it will work the boy some harm in the future.”

“Was that why you wanted me to come out here?”

“Yes; I counted that you’d agree with us, an’ we might settle the question without waitin’ for what Mr. Bradford may pick up in the way of information.”

“I reckon it’ll be wiser to wait, Joe. There’s plenty of time to take a bold stand after we know whether Andrew Foster really wants the boy, or if he’s sayin’ so simply because he thinks folks will make queer talk if he don’t.”

Joe Cushing was by no means satisfied to follow this advice; but he could not persuade Sam Hardy to do as he had proposed, and the interview came to an end.

During the week which ensued the members of the crew talked often, one with another but not in a body, regarding what should be done in case Benny’s uncle demanded that the boy come to him, and the general opinion appeared to be that the decision ought by right to be left to No. 8 himself.

As a matter of course no one suggested such an idea to Benny. He was given to understand that everything depended upon the information procured by Mr. Bradford, and a most anxious time it was to him.

More than once he referred to the matter when alone with Sam Hardy, but the surfman refused to discuss it, and only to Fluff could he pour out all that was in his heart. That he would run away rather than go to this uncle, who had written concerning him as if he was no more than a bale of merchandise, he told Fluff again and again, and in order to be prepared for such a move, Benny questioned the cook concerning the surrounding country, until the latter believed it his duty to inform the keeper.

“The lad is makin’ ready to give us the slip if it turns out that the crew believe he should leave,” the “captain of the kitchen” said to Tom Downey. “From what I’ve seen of him there’s no doubt in my mind but that he’ll do it rather than go to this uncle of whom he never heard before.”

Because of the fear that Benny might be tempted to do something desperate in case the information Mr. Bradford received was of such a nature as warranted a careful consideration of Andrew Foster’s claim, it was decided that the lad be kept in ignorance regarding what the gentleman might succeed in learning until the crew could weigh the matter well in joint discussion.

It so chanced, however, that Benny himself was the first to hear from Mr. Bradford, and the crew were thwarted in their good intentions by that piece of mechanism known as the telephone.

The boy was alone in the station on the fifth day after Andrew Foster’s letter was received, and, hearing the bell ring, answered the call.

“Hello!” he cried, replying as he had often heard Mr. Downey, and then, placing the receiver to his ear, he awaited the message.

“Is this the Life-Saving Station?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who’s at the ’phone?”

“It’s me--Benny Foster.”

“Hello, Benny, how is young Foster? It is Bradford who is speaking.”

“Fluffy is very well, thank you. All the crew, and even the cook, are outside, sir. Shall I call any one?”

“Perhaps it will be as well if I speak with you first, and then we’ll have a word with the keeper. Heard anything from your uncle?”

“No, sir, and I hope I sha’n’t. Say, Mr. Bradford, would you go to him if you were in my place and had such a good home as this, where Fluffy can do almost whatever he wants to? You know some folks think a dog ain’t nice to come into the house, and I don’t know what the poor little man would do if he was sent into the shed or a barn to sleep.”

“So you’re having it very comfortable out there, eh?”

“Indeed we are, Mr. Bradford. Maje has got through bothering Fluff, and the men are as kind to me as if we was own folks. I’d feel awful bad to go away; but that’s what I’ll have to do if Andrew Foster says I must live with him.”

“Ain’t thinking of running off are you, Benny?”

“That’s just what Fluff and I have made up our minds to do, sir, though I wouldn’t like for you to tell Mr. Downey. We’ll never go off with folks we don’t know.”

“Your uncle might give you a much better home than you have now, Benny.”

“He couldn’t do it, sir. No one would ever be as good to me as are the members of this crew, and, what’s better than all the rest, I can earn my own way here--everybody says I do.”

“Then you’ve quite made up your mind not to leave the station?”

“Oh, sir; I’ll have to leave if the men decide that I must, but neither Fluff nor I will go to Andrew Foster.”

“Then where do you count on going?”

“That’s what we don’t know, sir. I was coming in first to ask you where we might find a place to work for enough to pay our way.”

“Would you like to hear what your uncle has to say regarding the matter?”

“It won’t make any difference to us, sir; we won’t go to him.”

“What I mean is, would you like to hear the letter read which I have just received from him?”

“Does he say I’ve got to go where he lives?”

“Listen while I read, bearing in mind that I wrote the day after leaving the station, explaining how you were situated, and asking if he believed it was best to take you from those who were willing to assume all charge. The letter has just been received, and you shall hear it: ‘I am in receipt of your favor of the 4th, and it pleases me to learn that my nephew, for I have no doubt as to his being my brother’s son, has found such good friends. I am not really in a position to give a young boy that care which he should have, and would never have written asking that he be sent on, but that I deemed it my duty. I am an old man, living alone with servants, and of such a disposition that even my only brother could not agree with me. If the boy is comfortable and happy, and I can be assured the life savers will give him proper care, he shall receive from me the sum of two hundred dollars each year in quarterly payments, dependent only upon his writing me a truthful account of his situation at least once every twelve months, but not oftener. In case you are willing to burden yourself with the transaction of the business, I shall be glad to leave everything in your hands, agreeing to do in the premises whatever you may believe to be right, providing I am not called upon for more than I have stated herein.’ That is the letter, Benny, exactly as he wrote it, and I have read every word.”

No. 8 stood with the receiver pressed tightly to his ear, a look of perplexity on his face, and after a long pause asked hesitatingly:

“Didn’t he say anything more, sir?”

“I can’t see but that he has covered the subject fully, my boy.”

“But does he still think I must go where he lives?”

Benny could hear Mr. Bradford laughing, and he wondered why the gentleman should have thought there was anything comical in a question so important to him.

“Are any of the crew within call?” Mr. Bradford asked at length.

“I think Mr. Hardy is in the oil-room, sir.”

“Tell him I am at the ’phone.”

Sam was coming toward the station when Benny opened the door, and on being told who desired to speak with him, he hurried forward, an expression of anxiety appearing on his face.

There was a decided change in his countenance five minutes later, and then he dropped the receiver very suddenly to grasp Benny’s hands.

“It’s all right, No. 8! The whole matter is settled in great shape, an’ I’m beginnin’ to think Andrew Foster is a decent sort of an old fogy after all.”

“Am I to stay here?” Benny cried, trembling violently because of the prolonged suspense.

“That’s exactly what you are to do, my boy, and your uncle will pay two hundred dollars a year towards puttin’ you through school in proper shape.”

“I don’t want him to pay us anything so long as we can stay here,” Benny replied quickly, tears of joy and relief welling up in his eyes.

“But it’s right he should do it, No. 8, an’ it shows that he’s got a decent heart, even though it may be moss-grown. Now you are one of us, an’ it’ll be strange if seven able-bodied men can’t provide one little lad with food, lodgin’, an’ schoolin’, particularly since he earns a good deal more’n he costs.”

Then Sam ran to the door, shouting for the members of the crew at the full strength of his lungs, and in a few moments all were gathered, waiting to learn the reason for the sudden summons.

It was a difficult matter for the surfman to tell the story intelligibly; but after a time he succeeded in making his comrades understand that there was no longer any cause to fear that No. 8 might be taken from them, and then ensued such a merrymaking as, perhaps, no life-saving station has ever witnessed.

The men congratulated each other, then Benny, and, finally, Fluff, who had been sitting up begging for information--or sugar; and when this had been done, went through the same ceremony again and again, until Tom Downey declared that such “crazy antics must come to an end,” lest some visitor should suddenly appear and think the crew had gone mad.

Nor were they wholly quieted down when Mr. Bradford arrived early in the evening, and then the reading of Andrew Foster’s letter aroused them to yet more noisy hilarity.

Amid all the confusion Benny was strangely quiet. He held Fluff pressed tightly in his arms, and gazed first at one and then the other in such a serious fashion that Mr. Bradford finally asked:

“What is it, Benny? You don’t seem to be as happy as I had expected?”

“Happy, Mr. Bradford! Fluffy and I are so happy that we don’t dare to make much noise for fear we’ll wake up and find it’s all been a dream. No dog and boy in this world ever had it so nice as Fluffy an’ I, and it makes us almost frightened for fear we shan’t do enough to keep the crew glad all the time ’cause we’re here.”

“We’re not afraid that you won’t do enough, No. 8,” Tom Downey said gravely. “The greatest trouble is that you may try to do too much. We are the ones who should fear lest we fail in giving you all the chances other boys enjoy. We count on seein’ that you have a good education, and then if it so happens that you believe the life-saving service is good enough for you, we’ll be satisfied; but we’re countin’ on your makin’ such a mark in the world as will puff us all up with pride.”

Benny made no attempt to reply; he did not dare trust his voice, and at such a time tears would have shamed him; but he put Fluff on the floor, ordering him to “stand up,” and the two remained erect for several seconds, silently giving thanks for the great kindness and loving tenderness displayed toward these homeless ones.

* * * * *

It would be a pleasing task to depict Benny as he advances through life, winning the praise and admiration of those around him for the sterling qualities displayed; but as yet he has not made very much progress in carving for himself a name.

He is now at school, and Fluff remains at the station, happy all the time, but particularly so from Friday night until Monday morning, when his young master “comes home” to the station.

No. 8’s teachers report that he is a studious, well-behaved boy, and both Sam Hardy and Joe Cushing declare whenever the subject is brought up, that if he so desires, Benny shall “get all the schoolin’ that’s to be had for money.”

Yes, he received the medal of honor for life-saving, when his successful work on the night the crew were taken from the stranded steamer had been properly represented at headquarters, and every Sunday he and Fluff wear their decorations, much to the satisfaction of their guardians, the men of the Life-Saving Service.

DECK-PLAN OF A SELF-RIGHTING LIFE-BOAT, SHOWING THE MANNER IN
WHICH THE GEAR IS STOWED.

_List of Articles Shown._

1. Anchor.
2. Cable.
3. Bow heaving-line or grapnel-rope and grapnel.
4. Drogue-rope.
5. Stern heaving-line.
6. Veering lines.
7. Veering lines.
8. Jib outhaul or tack.
9. Mizzen-sheets.
10. Drogue.
11. Life-buoy.
12. Loaded cane, heaving-line, and tub.
13. Tailed block.
14. Pump-well hatch.
15. Deck ventilating hatches.
16. Deck ventilating hatches.
17. Foot-boards for rowers.
18. Side air-cases.
19. Relieving tubes and valves.
20. Samson’s post.
21. Thwarts.
22. Central batten, to which the masts and boat-hooks are lashed.

GENERAL RULES OBSERVED IN STOWING THE ABOVE GEAR.

1. Every rope made securely fast to a thwart by one end, the other end being kept clear for immediate use.

2. Each rope coiled, as much as possible, under a seat.

3. Each rope coiled in a loose coil, so as to allow the air to have access to all parts of it.

REGULATIONS.

1. The keepers of life-boat stations will be held responsible to the Government for the proper care and order, cleanliness, and efficiency of the life-boat, and everything pertaining to her.

2. The keeper of each life-boat station will frequently open the doors and windows of the boat-house; keep the pump-well hatch and ventilating-hatches of the boat open when the boat is not in use; and often examine such of her gear as would suffer injury from dampness, and dry it by exposure to the sun or wind. He will exercise proper precautions against the warping of the oars by their remaining long in one position, and see that they are not left supported only at the ends.

3. The keeper will keep all the boat’s gear as far as possible in the boat, except the lantern (which has first to be trimmed and is only wanted for night service) and the life-belts, so that no delay may take place in handing gear into the boat when going on service, and no risk be run of leaving anything behind.

4. The ropes and other gear of the life-boat must on no account be used for private purposes, nor, where avoidable, for any other purpose than that for which they are provided.

5. Whenever any small articles are injured or destroyed, they should be instantly repaired or replaced, and the Superintendent of the district informed accordingly; and when any ropes or other articles of importance are worn-out or destroyed, the fact should be made known at once to the Superintendent.

6. Whenever the life-belts have been wet through with salt water, they should be dipped and washed in fresh water if practicable, and perfectly dried as soon as possible, their durability, without repair, much depending upon this being done.

7. Where there is a carriage to the boat, the wheels should be taken off at least twice a year and the axle-arms greased and the roller-skids should be kept in good order by oiling their axle-bolts occasionally.

8. The life-boat will be manned by the keeper, a bowman, and as many boatmen as the boat pulls oars, and the keeper will have charge of the boat as coxswain.

Transcriber's Notes:

Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.

Many words are in dialect and have not been changed.

Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional missing and extra single- and double-quotation marks remedied.

Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.