Читать книгу The Radio Boys with the Iceberg Patrol; Or, Making safe the ocean lanes - Chapman Allen - Страница 5

Table of Contents

Why the Radio Boys knew that this man had spoken the words that had made them wonder at his calmness, they could not have told. But they had no doubt of the fact.

There was something about him that told of long habit of commanding others. And there was more than that. They could see that he was a man who had learned to command himself—the most difficult feat of all.

He was tall and spare and appeared to be about forty years of age. His face was marked with lines that bespoke discipline and character. His eyes were keen and had the look of those that have been accustomed to peer into distant spaces. They were eyes that could be stern and unflinching, and yet with tiny creases at the sides that showed they could twinkle with friendliness and good fellowship.

The instant he stepped foot to the ground he took command of the situation.

“You boys have saved our lives,” he said, “and I thank you for myself and the rest of us. I’ll thank you more at length later on. Suppose you get me some water from that little brook over there, and I’ll fix up these friends of mine.”

He reached quickly under the seat of the tonneau, which was now almost entirely in flames, and drew out a small medical kit, scorching his hand as he did so.

The boys ran for the water, which in default of other utensils they had to carry in their caps, and brought it to the leader of the party, who had thrown off his coat, rolled up his sleeves and was going over the wounds of his companions with the skill of a professional surgeon.

Luckily, the injuries, though painful, proved not to be serious. Most of them were due to the shock and the fall. There were no bones broken, though all had bruises and wounds on hands and faces, from which blood was trickling.

Again and again the boys brought water, and, in compliance with the directions given them, dashed it over the faces of those who had been partially stunned. The cold impact revived them, and soon, under the ministrations of the impromptu nurses, the men were in full possession of their senses.

Not till then did the leader rise to his feet, wash his face and hands, and resume his coat.

By this time the car was a roaring furnace. It was evident that it was doomed and that before long it would be only a tangled mass of metal. The faces of all were pale, as they watched what might so easily have been a funeral pyre.

They stood contemplating the terrifying spectacle for a minute or two, each one busy with his thoughts. Then the leader of the men turned to the Radio Boys.

“It’s only due to the mercy of heaven and the presence of mind of you boys that we’re alive at this moment,” he said gravely, “and I want to thank you with all my heart, both for myself and my friends, who are hardly in condition to speak, for what you have done for us. You’re fine specimens of American boys, and it’s a mighty lucky thing for us that you happened to be on hand.”

“We only did what any one else would have done under the circumstances,” disclaimed Bob modestly, and his companions nodded their assent.

“Permit me to doubt that,” said the stranger, with a smile. “There are plenty who would have done nothing except, perhaps, to run for help. That wouldn’t have done any good in this particular case, for we’d have been past rescue before assistance could have been brought to us. You helped us yourselves, and you did it with a quickness and a coolness that are beyond praise. But I see that you are as modest as you are brave, which makes me all the more glad to be indebted to you. But now tell me your names. I can assure you that I shall never forget them, and I know my friends won’t.”

As he was addressing himself especially to Bob, the latter gave his name, first having told those of his companions. In turn, the stranger introduced the boys to Mr. Hazlett, Mr. Bryan and Mr. Esterbrook, his fellow travelers in the ill-fated automobile.

“My own name is Springer,” he said, in conclusion. “Captain Amos Springer of the United States Navy.”

“I was sure that you belonged to the army or the navy,” ventured Joe.

“So was I,” said the other boys in chorus.

“How was that?” asked the captain. “You see I’m not in uniform. What made you think I was an officer?”

“Oh, I don’t exactly know,” replied Bob, in some embarrassment. “We just felt it. Something in the way you spoke while you were in the car made me at least feel that you were used to commanding men.”

“You sounded as if you weren’t a bit afraid,” put in Jimmy.

“And then, too, you waited till all the others were out before you got out yourself,” added Joe. “That reminded me of the navy, where the captain is the last man to leave the ship.”

The captain’s face showed a slight flush of embarrassment beneath the tan.

“Tradition of the service,” he laughed, waving away the implied compliment. “I see I’ll have to watch my step with such sharp eyes and ears about. But now let’s get back to the present situation. How far are we from the town?”

“Not more than a couple of miles,” answered Bob. “What can we do to help you? We can send the hospital ambulance down for your friends, if you like.”

“Oh, I guess we won’t need that,” said Captain Springer, looking around among his companions, who also shook their heads negatively. “There is none of us seriously hurt, and a day or two of rest in some good hotel will set every one to rights. What you can do, if you will, is to stop at a garage and have a car sent out for us. What’s the best hotel in town?”

“The Sterling House is as good as any,” replied Herb.

“All right then, that’s where we’ll go,” rejoined the captain. “I won’t be sorry to stay in town for a day or two, anyway, as that will give us a chance to see your parents and congratulate them on the kind of boys they’ve got. Then, too, we’re a pretty torn and bedraggled lot, and will have to get ourselves new outfits before we’re presentable.”

“We’ll hurry back then to town and send the car to you,” said Bob, rising from the stump on which he had been sitting. “I can promise that it will be here within three-quarters of an hour.”

With the farewell thanks of the grateful party ringing in their ears, the Radio Boys, after delivering a message at Mr. Baker’s, made rapid time back to Clintonia, where they stopped at the first garage, urged the pressing need of haste, and themselves watched the car go whizzing out to the point they described. Then, unutterably weary from the strain and excitement, they turned toward their respective homes.

“Gee!” exclaimed Jimmy, as his short legs tried to keep up with those of his companions, “have a heart, you fellows, and let up a little. I feel like something the cat dragged in.”

“I guess we all do,” replied Bob, as they moderated their steps in compliance with Jimmy’s urging. “It’s been some strenuous day!”

“I’ll tell the world it has,” agreed Joe. “Talk about excitement! That seems to be our middle name.”

“I feel as if I’d like to slump down in a chair and never get up again,” remarked Herb.

“Thought that was the way you always felt,” joked Joe, cleverly dodging the pass that Herb made at him.

“Do you fellows feel too tired to come around tonight?” asked Bob, as the group paused at the gate of his home. “I’m fixing up that new vario-coupler of mine, and it’s a dandy.”

“I’ll be there,” replied Joe, all his weariness forgotten at the magic thought of radio.

“I guess I will,” replied Herb. “But, oh, boy, that little bed of mine looks awfully good to me!”

“I’ll see how I feel after supper,” conceded Jimmy.

“You won’t see anything after supper,” gibed Joe. “You’ll be so full that you can’t see out of your eyes.”

“I’ll need a lot to keep me going,” explained Jimmy. “I’ve gone through more today than the rest of you fellows. Nobody hit you with a baseball in the pit of the stomach.”

“Sure enough,” laughed Bob. “I suppose that left a dent that you’ll have to straighten out. Well, so long, fellows. Come around if you can.”

It goes without saying that there was an increasing buzz of conversation around the supper tables in four Clintonia homes that evening. The boys were full of the afternoon’s adventures, and in response to eager questions were forced to tell over and over again the details of the accident. They almost forgot to eat in the excitement of the narrative. All, that is, except Jimmy. He never forgot.

After supper Herb conquered his desire for bed, and as Jimmy, belying Joe’s prophecy, could still see out of his eyes, the two went around to Bob’s home, where they found that Joe had preceded them.

For a time the boys talked over the stirring happenings of the afternoon, and then they proceeded to Bob’s room, where they were deep in examining the improvements to his radio set when the doorbell rang.

“Wonder who that is,” remarked Joe.

“Another reporter perhaps,” suggested Bob. “One has been here already asking me to tell him the sad story of my life and wanting to get a picture for tomorrow’s paper.”

“I know that voice!” cried Herb, who had gone to the door and held it ajar. “That’s no reporter. It’s Captain Springer!”