Chapter XVIII: Treachery

For a moment Tom did not know what to do, or what to think. He was convinced that an attempt had been made to rob him in the darkness of the night, and he wanted to know who was responsible. Yet he did not want to accuse or even think of any one as guilty, unless he had good proof.

“It couldn’t have been Abe or Joe,” he reasoned. “I could have heard them if they had left the shelter after I called out. It must have been Mr. Skeel. And yet----”

He paused, and listened once more to the steady breathing of the man who had once been, and who doubtless still was, his enemy.

“Could it have been he?” thought Tom. “It was certainly some one here in the shelter with me, and there aren’t many to pick from.”

He reflected that it might have been possible for little Jackie, moving in his sleep, to have tossed toward him, and gotten his hand near the money belt. And yet the hand had felt heavier than that of the child.

“Well,” mused Tom, “it won’t do to make a mistake. I’ve got to keep quiet and see what turns up. Only I know one thing--I’m not going to sleep much the rest of the night.”

He paused in the doorway, and was about to turn back to lie down beside Jackie, when Abe, who was talking with Joe near the helm, spied our hero.

“Hello, Tom,” the sailor called in a low voice. “Anything the matter the reason you’re up? Is Jackie sick?”

“No, he’s all right,” replied Tom in a low voice, but loud enough so that Professor Skeel, if he was awake, could hear it; “Jackie is all right. I thought one of you came in the shelter to see me.”

“One of us!” exclaimed Abe.

“Yes,” answered Tom.

“We weren’t there,” went on Abe. “We’ve been standing here for the last half hour, talking about what we might do to-morrow--after we get the boat launched. We weren’t near you.”

“Guess you must have dreamed it, Tom,” suggested Joe.

“Perhaps,” admitted Tom, and yet he knew that it was no dream. “I’ll go back to bed,” he called.

The derelict drifted on, and Tom was not again disturbed that night. Jackie slept well, and so too did Professor Skeel--to judge by his snores.

“Well, now for a launching!” exclaimed Joe as the dawning light filtered through the early morning clouds. “We’ll see what luck we have.”

There was not much to do in the way of preparation, for the two sailors had very nearly finished the work on the previous day. The food and water--all that could be spared from the needs of the few remaining meals they expected to take aboard the hulk--had been put into the reconstructed lifeboat. An early and small breakfast was served, and then the work of sliding the craft off the derelict was undertaken.

As the sailor had said, this was not difficult. The deck of the lumber ship, on which the lifeboat rested, had such a slope that all that was necessary to do was to cut loose a retaining rope, and the craft would slide down on improvised rollers that had been made. This could be done when they were all aboard. It was like the launching of a small ship.

“But I think I’ll give her a trial first,” decided Abe, when all was in readiness for the launching. “I don’t want her to turn turtle, or anything like that, when we’re all aboard. Though she can’t sink, with the watertight compartments.”

“What’s your game?” asked Joe.

“Why, I think I’ll take a trip in her myself just around the hulk, so to speak, and see how she behaves. She may need trimming, or lightening, or, maybe we haven’t got the sail just right. I’ll make a trial in her.”

The others decided that this might be wise, and accordingly, when Abe had taken his place in the craft, the rope was slacked off, and the lifeboat slid into the sea.

“Hurray!” cried Tom, as the craft took the waves. “She’s a success all right.”

“Not so fast! Hold on a bit!” cried Abe. “She’s leaking like a sieve in one place!”

“Leaking!” cried his shipmate.

“Yes. One place where I must have forgotten to do the calking good enough. Haul me back, and we’ll get her out of water again, and patch her up.”

Under Abe’s directions Tom, Joe and Professor Skeel pulled on the rope that was still fastened to the craft and she was worked back on the deck of the derelict. Then Abe, making a careful examination, began the work of calking up the cracks where the water had poured in.

The work took him longer than he had supposed it would, for he found out that he had to change his ideas when it came to making a reconstructed boat water-tight. He was most of the day at the task, and when he had finished he thought of something else.

“We need oars,” he said. “We can’t always depend on the wind, and if we get becalmed out on the ocean, with no shelter, such as we have here, we’ll be in a bad way if we can’t make some headway. So I will just make a pair of sweeps.”

Which he did out of some of the lighter planks that formed part of the cargo of the derelict. Thole pins were cut out to serve as oarlocks, for there were none on the made-over boat, and thus equipped the lifeboat could be rowed, though not very fast.

“Now I reckon she’s likely to be of more use,” declared Abe, when he had finished his task.

“But it’s too late to start to-day,” declared Joe.

“Yes, we’ll wait until to-morrow,” was the other’s decision. The boat was left in the same position it had been in before, and they settled down to pass another night on the derelict, waiting anxiously for the morning.

It was just getting dusk, and they were thinking of turning in, when Jackie, who had crawled upon the roof of the wooden shelter, called out:

“Oh, Tom! Look! See the smoke! Somebody must be starting a fire to cook supper!”

He pointed almost dead ahead, and, at the sight of a line of smoke on the horizon Joe cried:

“It’s a ship! A steamer! The first one we’ve seen! Oh, if we could only make her hear or see us!”

It was utterly out of the question to make themselves heard by shouting, but Tom, who was at the helm, swung it around until the derelict was headed as nearly as possible toward the telltale vapor.

“Wave something!” cried Abe. “Get up on the top of the shelter and wave something! They may have a man stationed up in the crow’s-nest on the lookout, and he might see us. Wave something!”

Mr. Skeel caught up a piece of the sailcloth, and, scrambling to the peak of the shelter waved the signal frantically. He kept this up for an hour, in which time the smoke gradually got below the horizon, showing that the steamer was moving away from the shipwrecked ones.

“No use,” said Tom sadly. “We’ve got to depend on ourselves.”

“And maybe it’s better so,” agreed Abe. “That steamer might be going to some place we wouldn’t want to touch at all.”

“Any place would be acceptable,” spoke Mr. Skeel, bitterly. “Oh! when will we be rescued? When will I ever get a good meal again?”

“No telling,” answered Abe grimly. “But if we have luck we ought to fetch some place by to-morrow. That steamer shows that we’re near the lines of travel, and we’ll hit on an island soon.”

Disappointed, but not discouraged over their failure to attract attention, the refugees prepared to spend another night aboard the derelict. Little Jackie was quite fussy, calling for his father several times, and it was all Tom could do to pacify him and keep him interested in “make-believe” plays.

Tom was a bit nervous about going to sleep, for he feared another attempt might be made to rob him. He had narrowly watched the two sailors and Mr. Skeel during the day, and he had decided that neither Abe nor Joe was guilty of the attempt to get the money belt.

“It must have been Skeel,” decided Tom, “though what he was going to do with it after he got it is more than I can say. He couldn’t have gone far with it, and I’d have missed it as soon as I awakened.”

He took a position this time so that any one coming toward him in the night would have to step or crawl over Jackie first, and thus, in a measure, the small boy would be an alarm clock.

“But I don’t believe anyone will dare try it again to-night,” mused Tom. He had narrowly watched his companions during the day, and he mentally decided that Mr. Skeel had a guilty air, though, for that matter, he seldom looked Tom, or anyone else squarely in the face.

Again it was near midnight when Tom awakened. And this time it was not because of anyone trying to rob him. He heard some one moving about on deck, and, cautiously peering out of the opening of the shelter, he saw a sight that startled him.

It was just light enough, because of the stars, to make out objects, and Tom beheld the form of Mr. Skeel at the lifeboat.

The former professor was fumbling with the retaining ropes, as if he intended to let the craft slide into the water. But Tom noticed that the man was in such a position that he could leap aboard the lifeboat as it slid away from the derelict.

“He’s trying to escape!” thought Tom. “He’s going to take our boat and leave us behind on the wreck. There’s treachery here! He’s trying to get away while we’re asleep--during his trick at the helm. Well here’s where I spoil his plans!”