CHAPTER X.

THE STORM OFF CAPE HATTERAS.

For the moment Oliver could not believe his eyesight. He stared at his chum without saying a word.

“Yes, it is I,” said Gus Gregory finally. “Do you think it is my ghost?”

“Gus!” gasped Oliver. “Where in the world did you come from?”

“Where did you suppose? From Rockvale.”

“And what――what are you doing here?”

“I’m bound for California; going to accompany you.”

“You are! Why――why”――Oliver could not finish the question.

“Don’t try to ask too many questions at once, and perhaps I’ll answer some of them,” laughed the stout boy. “In the first place, I left Rockvale yesterday morning about eleven o’clock. I came at once to New York, and after getting a good bath, so as not to look quite like a tramp, I bought a ticket for this steamer, and here I am.”

“Yes, but do your folks know of all this?”

“Well, I guess not! I wouldn’t be here but for the awful time I had with pop.”

And Gus Gregory shook his head over the remembrance of the occurrence.

“Then you ran away?”

“I suppose you would call it that. But I didn’t run; I couldn’t. I walked, and mighty slow at that!”

“But what made you come away at all?”

“It was all on account of that scrape we got into over at Dr. Tangus’s. On Monday night pop called me into the library, and said he had got a bill of damages from the old man. What do you suppose it was? Forty-five dollars!”

“Forty-five dollars! Phew!” ejaculated Oliver. “That was the whole damage done, I suppose.”

“No; that was only my share. I can tell you father was mad, and he sailed right into me. He had been suffering from a toothache all day, and his temper was none of the best. I can tell you I caught it!”

Gus Gregory drew a deep breath and shifted his shoulders uneasily.

“First it was words and then it came to blows,” he resumed. “At last I said I wished I was a thousand miles from home, and my father took me up and said I could go and never come back; and here I am.”

“But he didn’t mean that, Gus.”

“Never mind, he said it, and I took him up. So that night I packed my grip,――had quite a job, I was in such a tremendous hurry,――and found out all about the steamer and so forth. I left home right after breakfast.

“Just as I passed out of the garden, father saw me, and called out to know where I was going. I told him a thousand miles away, as he had wished. He said I was a fool, and ordered me back. When I didn’t mind, he came running after me. I started up the road, with my eye on him over my shoulder. I didn’t notice a puddle in the way, and the first thing went a-sousing into it. Maybe I wasn’t a sight to behold! I had on my best clothes too!”

Oliver laughed heartily. He could well imagine the scene.

“But you got away?” he asked with deep interest.

“Of course; if I hadn’t I wouldn’t be here. When I reached the station the train had just come in. I jumped aboard, and in a moment we were off. But what a mess I was in! I was mud from head to foot, and my face resembled that of the worst tramp you ever saw! I tried to clean myself as best I could, but nevertheless every one stared at me, and I had the whole seat to myself the entire way.”

“I can see the mud yet,” said Oliver.

“Humph! that isn’t a hundredth part of it. As soon as I reached the city I hunted up a bath, and told the proprietor I had met with an accident, and he fixed me up. But I can tell you, Olly, I don’t want any more such tumbles!”

“And where did you get your money to pay for the trip?” asked Oliver.

“Didn’t I have a hundred dollars that Uncle Dick left me before he started for Australia? I had that and twenty-five dollars besides. I thought you would take this steamer, and as soon as I saw your name on the register, I engaged a berth too.”

“And what do you intend to do when you reach San Francisco?”

“I don’t know yet. But see here, Olly, you don’t act a bit as if you cared to have me with you,” added Gus in injured tones.

“I do care a good deal. But I’m sorry you ran away. What will your father and mother think of it?”

“I sent them a long letter just before we sailed, so they won’t worry.”

“But they will worry, Gus.”

“Well, to tell the truth, I am sorry on mother’s account. To be real candid, if I had stopped to think perhaps I wouldn’t have come at all. But now I am here, and that is all there is to it.”

Oliver shook his head. He knew well enough that once Gus had made up his mind there was no use to argue with him.

“Let us go below,” continued the stout boy; “I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“Never mind; come along.”

So Oliver followed him down the broad steps and along the passageway, and Gus entered a stateroom.

“My stateroom!” cried Oliver. “How did you know it?”

“By the register. It is mine also. We are to be room-mates. Aren’t you glad?”

Glad? Indeed Oliver was. The feeling of loneliness, so acute but a quarter of an hour before, was all gone now.

While they were below, Gus told much of what had passed in Rockvale after Oliver’s departure. To be sure the boy had been gone but two days, yet that was long enough for all the other boys to wonder what had become of him.

Gus’s haste in leaving was amply proven by the contents of his valise, all tumbled in one mess. There were two extra shoes, but they were not mates, and most of the clothing he had brought was just such as he did not desire.

“Humph! the next time I run away I’d better take a week to do it in!” he grumbled. “Did you ever see such a collection? Looks as if I came out of a junk-shop.”

“Never mind; I’ll lend you what I have,” said Oliver. “But my advice is to return home the first landing we make.”

“Not much! I’m bound West ho!”

In a little while the two boys went on deck again. They were now drawing towards Sandy Hook, and the heavy swells made Gus turn a sickly green.

“I suppose it’s about dinner time,” said Oliver; “I feel mighty hungry.”

“I don’t want anything to eat,” replied the stout boy, drawing his mouth tightly together.

“You don’t!”

“No; not a mouthful.”

“Why?”

“Never mind; I don’t, that’s all.”

Oliver gave him a searching glance.

“Gus Gregory, you’re seasick!” he cried.

“Not a bit of it; I’m only a bit dizzy,” was the hopeful reply.

But he had hardly spoken the words before Gus swallowed a lump in his throat and then rushed for the side. Oliver, who felt perfectly well, could not help but laugh.

He went to dinner alone. The table was more than three-quarters deserted――nearly every one was under the weather. When he came from the dining-saloon he found his chum in the stateroom flat on the floor.

“What! as bad as this?” he asked kindly.

“Don’t say a word!” moaned Gus. “I’ll never travel on the water again, never! I wish the steamer was at the bottom of the sea, and myself with it.”

He continued to roll and moan for the rest of the day. Oliver tried to help him in various ways, but it was of no avail. There is nothing to do but to let seasickness run its course.

The boys never forgot that first night on shipboard. Several times Oliver’s head began to swim from the motion, which towards morning grew worse. He slept but little, and was one of the first on deck.

“We are getting into the neighborhood of Cape Hatteras,” said a gentleman standing near. “It is always rough here, but more than usually so now.”

“Why?” asked Oliver.

“Because there is a storm coming up.”

“A storm?”

“Yes; and a heavy one. Look over there at that black mass of clouds. There will be lively times on board to-day.”

The gentleman spoke the truth. In less than a quarter of an hour the sky was heavily overcast, and a heavy rainstorm burst over their heads. Somewhat fearful, Oliver hurried below.

He had often heard of the fearful storms experienced off Cape Hatteras, and wondered if that which was approaching would do the steamship any serious damage.