The first southward bound train that passed through Bridgeport on the morning that Don Gordon so unexpectedly obtained a clue to the whereabouts of the deserters, took him and all the rest of Captain Mack’s men to Oxford. Although the young officer had full authority to act in this way, he did not omit to drop a note into the post-office, telling the superintendent where he had gone and what he intended to do. “He’ll not get it before ten o’clock,” said the captain, gleefully, “and by that time we shall be so far away that he will not think it worth while to recall us, or to send a teacher after us.”
“We don’t want any teacher with us,” said Don. “We can do this work ourselves.”
“Of course we can; and what’s more, we’re going to. Now, keep out of sight, all of us, and don’t go out on the platform when we stop at the[325] stations. We don’t want to see any despatches. We’re doing this ourselves, and having begun it, we want to go through with it.”
The next time the superintendent heard from Captain Mack and his men they were at Oxford, and ready to continue the pursuit in the Idlewild, which was lying to in the river when Mack sent the despatch. In fact he took pains to see that everything was ready for the start before he went near the telegraph office. He got the yacht, as he knew he would, without the least trouble (Mr. Shelby laughed heartily when he heard what the deserters had done, and said he wished he had thought of such a thing when he was a boy), laid in a stock of provisions and water, and then turned the management of affairs over to Egan, who selected his crew and got the yacht under way. When she came abreast of the city (the berth she usually occupied was about a mile up the river) Mack went ashore in the dory, and after sending off his despatch, telling the superintendent where he was and what he intended to do next, he plumed himself on having done his full duty as a gentleman and an officer.
“He couldn’t stop us now if he wanted to,”[326] said Mack, as he returned aboard and the Idlewild filled away for the bay, “for there are no telegraph offices outside, and if we see a tug after us, we’ll hide from her. But the superintendent can’t say that I didn’t keep him posted, can he?”
The pursuing vessel had a much better crew than the Sylph—of the twenty-three boys aboard of her there were an even dozen who could go aloft and stand their trick at the wheel—and if she had once come in sight of the deserters, she would have overhauled them in short order; but the trouble was to get on the track of them. There was a good deal of territory in the bay—it was about a hundred miles long and half as wide—and there were many good hiding-places to be found among the numerous islands that were scattered about in it. For five days they sailed about from point to point, but could gain no tidings of Enoch and his crowd. The island farmers, of whom they made inquiries, declared that Captain Mack and his squad were the only academy boys who had been seen on the bay that summer. If the deserters had left the corn-fields and melon-patches alone, their pursuers might not have been able to get on their track at all; but one irate[327] truck-gardener, whom they had despoiled of nearly a cart-load of fine watermelons which were in prime condition for the Oxford market, gave them the needed information, and after that their work was easy. They traced the Sylph from island to island, gaining on her every hour, and would have overhauled her before the close of the day on which the storm came up, had they not been obliged to seek a safe anchorage from the gale.
During the night of the blow the little vessels were not more than five miles apart. The Idlewild made the earlier start, and if the Sylph had remained in the cove an hour longer she would have been captured there, for it was Egan’s intention to coast along the lee-shore of that very island. As it was, he did not catch sight of the object of his search until she rounded the promontory and stood up the bay. Then all was excitement on the Idlewild’s deck.
“Hold her to it, Burgess,” said Egan to the boy at the wheel. “The Sylph’s got the weather-gauge of us now, but we can soon gain the wind of her. At any rate we’ll make her captain show what he’s made of. Go aloft, a couple of you, and we’ll set the topsails.”
[328]
“Are you going to lay us alongside of her?” asked Burgess.
“Not in this sea,” replied Egan. “We’ll keep her company until she gets into smooth water, and then we’ll bounce her. What do you see, Gordon?” he added, addressing himself to Bert who was gazing steadily at something through the glass.
“I never saw a wreck,” replied Bert, handing the glass to Egan, “but if that isn’t one, tossing about on the waves just ahead of the Sylph, I’d like to know what it is.”
Egan looked, and an exclamation indicative of the profoundest astonishment fell from his lips. It was a wreck, sure enough, said all the boys, as the glass was passed rapidly from hand to hand, and there were people on it, too. Now what was to be done?
“Stow the topsails and lay down from aloft,” commanded Egan. “We don’t want any more canvas on her until we have taken care of those castaways.”
Never before had the Idlewild bore so excited a party as Captain Mack and his men were at that moment, and never had she carried a more orderly[329] one. There was not the slightest confusion among them. Those who understood Egan’s hurried orders obeyed them, and those who did not, kept out of the way. When they saw that the deserters were making preparations to board the wreck, their admiration found vent in lusty and long-continued cheers.
“Who are those fellows in the dory?” Egan asked of Don, who had the glass. “They have good pluck, I must say.”
“One of them is Enoch Williams, and the other is——”
Don was so utterly amazed by the discovery he had made, that he could go no further. He wiped both ends of the glass with his handkerchief to make sure that there was nothing on them to obscure his vision, and then he looked again.
“The other is Lester Brigham,” said he.
His companions could hardly believe it. First one and then another took the glass, and every one who gazed through it, gave utterance to some expression of astonishment.
“I’ll never again be in such haste to pass judgment upon a fellow,” said Egan, after he had satisfied himself that Enoch’s companion was none[330] other than the boy who had faltered when his courage was first tested. “I have been badly mistaken in both those boys. You are going to capture the deserters, Mack, but Enoch and Lester will go back to Bridgeport with a bigger feather in their caps than you will.”
Captain Mack did not feel at all envious of them on that account. He and the rest watched all their movements with the keenest solicitude, and cheered wildly every time one of the sloop’s crew was released from his lashings and put into the dory. When that big wave came and washed Enoch overboard, their hearts seemed to stop beating, and every boy anxiously asked his neighbor whether or not Enoch could swim well enough to keep himself afloat until they could reach him. Their fears on that score were speedily set at rest and their astonishment was greatly increased when Egan, who held the glass, said that he could swim like a cork, that he held a little child in his arms, and that he knew enough to get beyond the influence of the whirlpool made by the wreck which was now going to the bottom.
“He’s a hero!” cried Egan, after he had shouted himself hoarse. “Look out for that spar,[331] Burgess! Get handspikes, some of you, and stand by to push her off!”
But the handspikes were not needed. Being skilfully handled the Idlewild came up into the wind within easy reach of the spar, but never touching it, and hung there barely a moment—just long enough to give the eager boys who were stationed along the weather-rail, time to seize the swimmer and haul him aboard. He was none the worse for his ducking, while his burden lay so white and motionless in his arms that everybody thought he was dead; but he was only badly frightened, and utterly bewildered by the strange and unaccountable things that were going on around him.
“Now, then, what does a fellow do in cases like this?” exclaimed Don, who was at sea in more respects than one.
“Take the boy below and put him to bed,” commanded Egan. “Pull off those wet clothes, give him a good rubbing to set his blood in motion, and then cover him up warmly and let him go to sleep. I suppose his father is among those whom you and Lester took off the wreck?”
“I think he is, and his mother too,” replied[332] Enoch, who was wringing the water out of his coat.
“His mother!” cried Egan.
“Yes. The first one we took off was a lady.”
“Who are they, and where did they come from?”
“Haven’t the shadow of an idea. I don’t know the name of their vessel, or whether or not any of the crew were lost. The lady was insensible, and the men were not much better off.”
“Then we must run for a doctor!” exclaimed Mack.
“You can’t get to one any too quick,” answered Enoch. “But first, you had better send somebody off to take charge of that schooner. Jones is at the wheel, and he can’t handle her in this wind.”
Captain Mack lost no time in acting upon this suggestion. While the Idlewild was taking up a position on the Sylph’s starboard quarter, her small boat, which had been housed on deck, was put into the water, half the squad, six of whom were capable of managing the schooner, were sent off to take charge of the prize, and the majority of the deserters were transferred to the Idlewild.[333] Bert Gordon, who was the only non-commissioned officer in the squad, commanded the Sylph, but Burgess sailed her. All this work was done as soon as possible, and when it was completed the two vessels filled away for the nearest village, the Idlewild leading the way. During the run the deserters fraternized with their captors, and many interesting and amusing stories of the cruise were told on both sides. The former were treated as honored guests instead of prisoners, and Mack and his men praised them without stint.
“We’re all right, fellows,” said Jones, when he had opportunity to exchange a word with Lester and Enoch in private. “The superintendent won’t say anything to us. He can’t after what we have done.”
“But we didn’t all do as well as Enoch did,” said Lester.
“I know that. He will receive the lion’s share of the honors, but the rest of us did the best we could, and if one is let off scot free, the others must be let off too. Those people would have gone to the bottom with their yacht if we hadn’t sighted them just as we did; and by rescuing them we have made ample amends for our misdeed............