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Chapter XII: A Mutual Surprise

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“Davy Jones!” gasped Joe Weldon, as he too looked into the boat he had towed to the derelict, and saw the man. “Another passenger!”

“And a dead one, too, I reckon,” added Abe, grimly.

“Let’s make sure,” suggested Tom. “We must get him aboard here, unless that boat is better than the derelict. Maybe we had better take to that.”

“No,” decided Joe, after a careful look. “She’s stove in, and only her water-tight compartments keep her afloat. It wouldn’t be safe to get into her. Our own craft is better.”

“Then we must get him aboard here,” went on Tom. “That is, if he’s alive.”

“And we must get some of that drinking water out of the boat, too,” went on Abe. “It’s just what we need.”

“Maybe there’s food, also,” suggested Joe. “It’s a good find all right, even if the boat is a wreck.”

“Is my daddy in it?” asked Jackie.

“No,” replied Tom sadly. “But, Jackie I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. We’ll make a little house out of part of that boat, and we can sleep in it.”

“Really and truly, Tom?”

“Surely.”

“And we can camp out?”

“Yes. Now you go away up, on that high part of our ship and stay there while we pull the sick man out of the boat.”

Tom put Jackie on the highest part of the derelict over which the waves did not break. In fact, now that the sea had gone down, their situation was not so bad, for they were getting dry.

“Come on now, mates, all together,” proposed Joe. “We’ll haul the man out first, and then see what’s in the boat that’s of any use to us. All together, now!”

It was no easy task to get an unconscious man from the boat, nearly awash, to what might be called the deck of the derelict. But they managed it, and he was made as comfortable as possible.

“Some of that canvas will come in handy,” remarked Joe, as he pulled a large piece of it from the lifeboat. “And here are two kegs of water, and some cases of tinned food. We won’t starve, or die of thirst, right away.”

“Right you are, mate,” agreed Abe. “Now if we could only get this boat up on the derelict, we might use the planks for making a shelter, as Tom said. Let’s try.”

It was even harder work than hauling the unconscious passenger up on the deck, but the sailors knew their business, and with Tom to help them and taking advantage of the swell of the sea, and an occasional big wave, they did manage to get the wrecked lifeboat up on the derelict by hauling on ropes attached to her.

“And it’s a good thing we didn’t try to go to sea in her,” commented Abe, as he looked at the holes stove in the craft. “Even with the water-tight compartments we couldn’t have gone far. She must have been rammed by some of the wreckage after this man was in her. Do you know him, Tom?”

“Yes, I know him,” was the quiet answer. “Let’s get the boat a little higher up.”

“All together--heave!” cried Joe, and they worked the craft farther up on the derelict.

“There’s an axe!” cried Tom, as the bottom of the lifeboat became exposed, when the water ran from her through the rents and gashes. “That will come in handy.”

“That’s what,” agreed the sailors.

Now that they had their prize secure, they turned their attention to the passenger who had so unexpectedly come to them. He seemed to be still unconscious, but Tom, feeling of his wrist, detected the movement of a pulse.

“He’s alive,” he said.

“Then the sooner we get the water out of him the better,” spoke Abe. “Though I don’t believe he got much into him, for he was sitting high in the boat, and she hadn’t shipped so very much.”

Then they began to work over the unconscious man, Tom thinking meanwhile of the irony of fate that had again thrown him into contact with the character in whose life he had played so strange a part.

“He’s coming around,” announced Joe, after a bit.

“Yes, I guess so,” assented Abe.

The man sat up. His eyes roved about as though he could not understand where he was. He looked first at Abe, then at Joe, and then sought little Jackie, who was seated on the highest part of the derelict where Tom had sent him. Then the gaze of the man went to Tom’s face.

Over the countenance of the man came a tinge of fear, and Tom smiled grimly. He saw the features of the man as they had been on the day when he came aboard the _Silver Star_ in such a hurry--a smooth-shaven face--the face on which Tom had seen the man adjusting a false beard in his stateroom that day.

The mysterious passenger gasped. Then he said:

“You--you here--Tom--Tom Fairfield?”

“Yes, I’m here, Professor Skeel,” announced our hero calmly, as he faced the former Latin instructor of Elmwood Hall--the teacher against whom he had led such a successful revolt. “I’m here, and I’m surprised to see you here.”

“No more--no more than I am to be here--and to see you,” came the grim answer. “It’s a mutual surprise I fancy.”

“Yes,” agreed Tom simply.

“Do you know this man?” asked Joe. “This Mr. Trendell?” for, somehow, the sailor had learned the name by which the renegade professor had gone.

“I don’t know him by that name,” spoke Tom, “but it doesn’t matter I fancy. We have other things to consider now.”

“All right,” agreed the sailor. “It’s none of my affair. Only when a man goes by two names--”

“What business of yours is that?” snapped Mr. Skeel, with a return of his old, overbearing classroom manner.

“Nothing, of course. But I’ve got a right to make a remark, and whoever you are, I’d remind you that we’ve saved your life.”

“And what’s more,” went on Abe, “we’re all equal here. We’re not on board a ship now, and there’s no captain, unless we elect Tom here, which I vote we do.”

“Second the motion,” came from Joe. “How’s that, Captain Tom?”

“I--I’ll not serve under him!” muttered Burton Skeel. “I won’t take orders from him.”

“Then you can go adrift again, and shift for yourself if you like,” spoke Joe sharply. “The majority rules here, and Abe and I vote for Captain Tom.”

“Oh, I don’t know enough about a ship to be captain,” spoke our hero.

“You don’t have to know much about a ship to navigate this water-logged craft,” said Joe. “Captain we’ve voted you, and captain you’ll be. There has to be some one to give orders, and you’re him. If this Professor Skeel, as you call him, or Mr. Trendell, as we knew him, doesn’t like it he can go elsewhere.”

“Oh, I suppose I must give in,” said the new passenger bitterly.

“That’s all that need be said,” commented Abe, “and if you’ve got a secret you can keep it. We won’t ask any questions, will we mate?”

“Not I,” growled Joe. “Now then, Mr. Trendell--”

“You might as well call me Skeel,” said the owner of that name. “Since Tom Fairfield knows me there is no use trying to hide my identity. Not that I have anything to conceal,” he added hastily.

“All right,” agreed Joe. “Now then, let’s make this lifeboat fast in a little better shape, and then we’ll chop off some of the planks and build a sort of shelter. Then we can think about breakfast--that is if the captain says so.”

“Surely,” assented Tom with a smile. “Do as you think best. You know much more about it than I do.”

The two sailors busied themselves, while Jackie looked on interestedly. Mr. Skeel, who was rapidly regaining his strength, after a drink of water, and a bite of biscuit and meat, crawled to Tom.

“Are--are you going to inform on me?” he asked.

“Certainly not,” replied our hero. “I’m done with you. I have no wish to trouble you further. I think you acted very unfairly toward our class, and what you did to my friend Bruce Bennington was criminal, but he does not want to prosecute you, so neither do I.”

“You little knew the temptation I was under,” said the former professor humbly. “I make no explanations, but I will say that I have decided to live a better life. I was going to try in a new country to redeem the past. I had no idea you were on the _Silver Star_ when I engaged passage under another name, and when I saw you, after I had disguised myself, I was greatly startled. I kept to my room, and even thought of adopting another form of false beard and moustache so you would not know me.”

“I recognized you,” said Tom simply. “However, you need not fear me. I will say nothing, and I hope that you can better yourself in your new situation. That is all that need be said.”

“I suppose so,” spoke Mr. Skeel gloomily. “This is a bad beginning for a new life, though--a wreck.”

“How did you come to get in the boat?” asked Tom.

“I hardly know. There was so much confusion. I came up on deck after the crash, and waited for the order to get into the boat. Some one helped me in. I was the only one in it when the second crash came, and suddenly the boat seemed to fall into the sea. I received a blow on the head, and then I knew no more until I found myself aboard this derelict. I suppose I must thank you for saving my life.”

“Not at all. It was Joe who swam out and brought in your boat. I am sorry for you. We will say no more about it. There is a hard enough task ahead of us as it is, to save ourselves.”

“Do you think we can?”

“I don’t know. It all depends on whether we can get to an island where the natives will be friendly enough to give us aid, or if we are picked up by some vessel. We will hope for the best. We have food and water, but not much of a craft under us. However, since your boat is here, possibly we can make some kind of a structure to shelter us.”

The two sailors, with the piece of canvas that had been found in the lifeboat, and with some pieces of lumber which they managed to chop out of the derelict, were constructing a shelter on the after portion of the wreck--on the highest part.

“Oh, Tom!” called Jackie, who sat beneath this improvised awning, “come under my tent!”

“I will,” answered our hero with a smile.

“And bring me something to eat,” commanded Jackie. “I’m hungry. I want my breakfast, and I want my daddy. When will he come, Tom Fairfield?”

“I don’t know. Soon, I guess. Now we’re going to play at soldiers, camping out, and we’ll have breakfast in our tent. Won’t that be fun, Jackie?”

“Indeed it will. Hurry up, Tom!”

Tom smiled sadly, as he collected some food and water from where the stores had been put. And yet, in a way he was glad he had this little boy in charge now, for it kept him from brooding over his own troubles.

“I don’t see how I’m ever going to rescue dad and mother when I’m wrecked myself,” reflected Tom. “But it’s too soon to give up yet,” and he closed his teeth grimly, to keep back the tears that wanted to come.

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Tom Fairfield at Sea; or, The Wreck of the Silver StarChapter XII: A Mutual Surprise

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