Dorothy's Triumph

Mr. Ronald’s appearance on deck was the signal for a jubilant shout from Dorothy, Molly and Jim.

“Now we’ll be off again in a jiffy!” Molly cried. “I can see it in Mr. Ronald’s face.”

“Which only goes to show that looks are really deceiving,” returned the owner of the yacht, good-naturedly.

“What!” cried Dorothy, while Molly gave vent to a disappointed, “Oh!”

“Do you mean that the engineer hasn’t yet got to the seat of the trouble?” queried Dr. Sterling.

“I regret to say that his efforts are not meeting with the success we had hoped for, and as we are slowly drifting in toward the beach, with only a few feet of water under our keel, we shall be forced to drop anchor, pending further developments in the engine-room.”

“That means that the trouble is serious,” groaned Aunt Betty.

“Not necessarily,” said Judge Breckenridge, in an encouraging tone, “but if we run aground we will be ‘suah ’nuff’ in trouble, as old Ephraim would say.”

“The trouble is merely temporary, I assure you,” Mr. Ronald went on. “If you will excuse me again, I’ll order the anchor dropped. Then we can at least make our minds easy as to where we will stay until the trouble is located.”

The others nodded their assent and he hurried forward. A moment later, with a rattling of chains, the anchor plunged into the waters of the bay.

Mr. Ronald then rejoined his guests, and in spite of the anxiety that was surging in Dorothy’s breast, she entered into the spirit of the occasion with the others. Story and jest rang out over the water as the sun gradually approached the horizon.

It was after six when Sharley came on deck to say that the trouble was as elusive as ever.

“We’ve been over every inch of her,” he said, “and can’t find a thing the matter. Yet, she won’t budge an inch. The gasoline supply is O. K., and the batteries are in good shape. There’s no trouble at all about exploding the spark, but I can’t get the engine to turn a wheel, sir.”

Mr. Ronald cast an uneasy glance toward the eastern sky, where a heavy bank of clouds was appearing above the sky-line. The rapidity with which they were approaching seemed to indicate that a storm was brewing. He said nothing of this to his guests, though, but smilingly remarked that he would go below again to go over the matter another time with Sharley. Then owner and engineer disappeared below decks together.

Anxiously those on deck awaited some report from the engine-room; but the minutes slipped by and none came.

Finally, Dorothy noticed the approaching storm, and gave vent to a startled exclamation, which, caused Aunt Betty to jump, and Molly to grab her chum nervously by the arm.

“What is it?” Aunt Betty wanted to know.

Dorothy extended her finger toward the formidable looking bank of clouds.

“A storm is coming,” she replied, “and if we don’t hurry and fix the engines we shall be caught in it.”

As if in answer to Dorothy’s remark, Mr. Ronald appeared on deck at this instant. His face wore a troubled expression and the hopes of the guests fell as they noticed it.

“It’s of no use; we can’t find the trouble,” he said. “Looks very like we were in a trap and destined to quite a stay.”

The wind had already commenced to blow. The Nautilus had swung around bow on to the east and was tugging viciously at her anchor.

“If some other boat would only come by and pick us up!” cried Aunt Betty. “Why, we may have to stay out here all night.”

“What of it?” queried Judge Breckenridge.

“Why, Dorothy will be in no shape for the concert to-morrow night – that’s what of it. And Herr and Frau Deichenberg will be worried over our continued absence.”

“The cabin of the yacht will afford comfortable sleeping quarters for you ladies,” said Mr. Ronald. “I regret this occurrence, but now that we are here, with no prospect for getting away under several hours, we must make the best of a bad bargain.”

“Let me suggest that we all go inside,” said Dr. Sterling. “The wind is getting too cool for you, Mrs. Calvert.”

“I suppose that’s an insinuation against my age,” returned the person addressed, with some spirit. “But I’ll forgive you, doctor; we had best look the facts in the face.”

She arose as she spoke, and taking Jim’s arm, walked slowly toward the cabin. The others followed.

No sooner were they inside than the storm descended with a roar. Sheets of water, wind-driven, beat against the windows of the cabin, and the yacht rose on top of great waves to plunge down into the trough of the sea with a motion that gave Aunt Betty a sinking feeling.

“It’s like going down in an elevator,” she confided to Dorothy. “I just know I’m going to be seasick.”

“You will if you think about it every minute,” said Dr. Sterling. “Get your mind on something else and you will be all right.”

“Easier said than done, doctor.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Now, that reminds me of a story,” and he went on to relate a certain incident of his career which took the thoughts of seasickness and storm away from Aunt Betty’s mind.

It soon grew so dark it became necessary to switch on the electric lights. Then, while the yacht rolled and tossed on the heavy waves, Mr. Ronald and his guests entertained themselves as best they could.

Through the windows a glare marked the location of the city, though no objects were visible on the ink-black surface of the water. As Dorothy looked longingly out into the darkness she wondered what Herr Deichenberg and Mr. Ludlow would be thinking by this time.

Knowing she had gone out on the yacht, and that a storm had descended on both bay and city, they would be worried, no doubt, and there was no means of communicating with them to allay their fears until the yacht was able to pull up anchor and steam into the city by her own motive power. And this seemed unlikely to happen soon, for no word of encouragement had come from the engine-room, though Engineer Sharley and his assistant were still making a diligent search for the trouble.

Fortunately the larder of the Nautilus was well-stocked with food, and Mr. Ronald, with the help of one of the deck hands, was able to serve a very satisfactory lunch to the storm-bound, hungry guests.

Steaming coffee was made on a little electric range, and this, with rolls, canned salmon, and bread and butter, served to satisfy the appetites of all.

“How nice and cozy this would be,” said Molly, as they were gathered about the table, “if it were not storming so hard, and Dorothy was not worried as to when she is to reach the city.”

“Why, pshaw! there’s nothing to worry over,” said Jim. “The storm won’t last forever, and I’m sure if the engines are not fixed by morning, Mr. Ronald will signal for a tow to pull us into the city.”

“That will be the only thing to do,” said the yachtsman. “But the trouble will be remedied before morning, I am sure.”

At ten o’clock the storm had abated to some extent, though the rain was still beating in sheets against the cabin windows. The wind, however, seemed to have lost its great velocity, and the yacht did not toss as badly.

Under these comforting circumstances the girls and Aunt Betty retired to the staterooms of the yacht, where they threw themselves in the bunks thoroughly dressed, resolved to get what rest they could.

In the cabin the men smoked and told stories, while Jim sat near, an interested listener. At midnight the boy curled up on a seat built against the side of the cabin and went to sleep. Judge Breckenridge was nodding in a big Morris chair, so Dr. Sterling and Mr. Ronald left them and went to the engine-room, where Sharley and his assistant were still laboring faithfully at the machinery.

“Well, we’ve got it located,” said the grimy engineer, smiling good-naturedly. “The trouble is on this end of the propeller shaft. A piece of metal is lodged between the cogs, and we’ve been unable so far to get it out. It’s only a question of time, though. Bill is hammering away with a cold chisel and something is bound to give ’way soon.”

“Can we run into the city in the storm, Sharley, or will it be better to wait till it clears?”

“Well, it’s pretty misty out, and hard to see the lights of other boats, but we’ll chance it if you say so, sir.”

“I’ll think it over. Let me know when the engine is fixed and we’ll decide what is best to do. Come, Sterling; let’s go on deck for a breath of air.”

Donning heavy ulsters, they were soon on the slippery deck of the yacht, the storm beating in their faces. The man in the wheelhouse, encased in heavy oilskins, was nodding in the shelter of his little quarters. He started up as Mr. Ronald and his friend came slipping along the deck.