Chapter 24

"That thar Sam Reddin' boy clar'd himself uv all suspicion, did he?" went on the old man.

"Yes, after he had admitted that Jack Curtiss and Bill Bender and himself stole our uniforms and robbed you--"

"Consarn him," interrupted the captain.

"You needn't grumble, his father paid you back all that was taken," observed Merritt.

"That don't lessen the crime," grunted the captain, "heave ahead with yer yarn, my boy; yer was sayin' that that Reddin' boy admitted everythin'."

"Well," continued Rob, "in consideration of his confession, it was agreed not to prosecute him and he seems to be a reformed character. He absolutely denied, though, having had anything to do with the kidnapping of Joe Digby here, and I believe he is telling the truth."

"The truth ain't in any uv them fellers, that's my belief," snorted the captain, "and if ever I get my hands on that thar Jack Curtiss or Bill Bender I'll lay onto 'em with a rope's end."

"Oh, we'll never see them again," laughed Rob.

It may be said here, however, that in this he was very much mistaken. Rob and his friends did meet the bully again and under strange circumstances, in scenes far removed from the peaceful surroundings of Hampton.

"Fog's thickenin'," observed the captain squinting seaward.

As he remarked, the mist was indeed increasing in density, shrouding the surroundings of the camp completely and covering the trees and bushes with condensed moisture, which dripped in a slow, melancholy sort of way from their limbs.

"Bad weather for ships," observed Merritt.

"Yer may well say that, my lad, and this is a powerful bad part uv the coast ter be navigatin' on in a fog. I've heard it said that there's a lot uv iron in the Long Island shoals and that this deflects the compasses uv ships that stay too near in shore in a fog. I don't know how that maybe, I don't place a lot uv stock in it myself, but I do know that steamers and vessels uv al kinds go ashore here more than seems ter be natural."

As he finished speaking there came, the fog a sound that fitted in so well with subject of his conversation that it almost an accompaniment to it.

"Who-oo-oo-oo!"

"A steamer's siren," exclaimed Rob.

"That's what it is, lad," assented the old sailor, as the sound came again, booming through the fog with a melancholy cadence.

"Who-o-o-o-o-o!" roared the siren once more.

"I'll bet the feller who's on the bridge uv that ship is havin' his own troubles just about now," remarked the captain, "hark at that!"

The whistle was now roaring like a wounded bull, sending distinct vibrations of sound through the increasing fog billows.

"Thick as pea soup," commented the captain, refilling his pipe, "reckon I'll have ter stay here till she lifts a bit. Wind's hauled to the sou'west too. Bad quarter means more fog and smother."

"Who-o-o-o-o!" boomed the siren of the hidden vessel once more, and this time it was answered by another whistle somewhere further off in the fog.

"Two uv 'em now. Stand by fer a collision," shouted the captain, while the scouts, intensely interested in the development of this hidden drama of the fog, clustered about him.

"Who-o-o-o-o! Who-o-o-o-o! Who-o-o-o-o!" came the nearest siren.

"She's standin' in shore," shouted the captain, "boys, she's in grave danger."

"What's she coming in for?" asked Merritt.

"I suppose her skipper thinks he's got plenty uv water under his keel and wants ter give a wide berth ter the other vessel," explained the captain. "Boys, if only we had a big bell or a steam whistle we could warn them poor fellows uv their peril."

"It does seem hard to hear them blundering in and not be able to warn them," agreed Rob, "there should have been a lighthouse put on these shoals long ago."

"Right yer are, boy, but the government is a slow movin' vessel and hard ter get under way."

The boys had to laugh at this odd way of expressing the difficulty of getting new lights erected, but they knew as well almost as their companion the dangers of the ocean off this part of Long Island.

The whistle boomed out its wailing note again.

"Closer and closer," lamented the captain, "what's the matter with those lubbers? Yer'd think they'd have a leadsman out."

All at once the catastrophe for which they had been more or less prepared happened. So quickly did it come that they had not time to speak.

The echoes of the last note of the siren had hardly died out when there came a loud explosion.

"Bang!"

"A signal gun," roared the captain.

"They are calling for help?" asked Rob.

"That's it, my boy. They've struck, just as I thought they would."

The distress gun sounded again.

"They're in a bad mess by the sound uv that," said the captain.

"It doesn't sound as if they were more than half a mile or so out," remarked Rob.

"I guess they're not. Hark at that! They must be scared ter death."

The gun was fired three times in rapid succession.

"They'll never hear that at Lone Hill life savin' station," grimly commented the captain, "and this fog's too thick fer them ter see her."

"Do you imagine she is badly damaged, captain?" asked Rob anxiously. The idea of the stranded ship lost in the dense fog affected him strangely.

"Can't tell," the captain replied to his question, "may have stove a hole in herself and be sinking now."

"Can't we do something to help them?" asked Merritt eagerly.

"Only one thing we can do, boy, and that's full uv danger."

"What is it?" demanded Rob, ignoring the last part of the captain's speech.

"Get in ther boat and go out thar to 'em. If they're sinkin' we can help 'em a whole lot, and--"

The captain stopped short in amazement.

Rob, Merritt and Tubby had already started for the beach and Hiram, "the wireless scout", was close on their heels.

"Well, douse my toplights," exclaimed the captain, rising to his feet and lumbering after them, "Yer can't beat the Boy Scouts."