Читать книгу The Clue at Skeleton Rocks - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 7

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“Man overboard!” Hal cried instantly. He had reached the pilot house by the time the light again swept over the darkened reef.

“The man’s struggling!” Denis Keen cried out to him. “Hurry—everybody!”

The crew seemed to appear out of nowhere. Sleepy-eyed, but mentally alert, men were already at a life-boat. The first mate and one of the crew were busy at the range-light and had trained it on the reef while Time seemed suspended. And in the midst of these activities stood Captain Dell in stockinged feet, trousers and undershirt, bellowing orders.

The whole area between the tender and the reef was ablaze with light, and with the faithful flashes from the Rocks, there was nothing over that dark, rocking surface which was not discernible from the port rail. Consequently, Hal saw immediately that the man in the water was struggling indeed and making frantic gestures for help.

On the rushing tide he had been swept toward the tender, and now threatened to be carried in the opposite direction, on to Skeleton Rocks. Also, he seemed not to have much strength left, for each succeeding gesture for help looked more feeble than the one before. Hal realized at once that the man was not a good swimmer, for he was wearing himself out by trying to fight against the tide. And it would still be a few seconds before the life-boat was afloat and to the rescue.

Hal summed it up in a flash.

The boat would not ride with the tide until she was turned out and floated past the bow of the tender. That meant that the struggling man would be swept far past that point in the interval, and perhaps past the limit of his strength. He was already parallel with the prow of the Cactus. In two seconds a good strong swimmer could head him off. It was the only thing that could possibly save him.

Hal had kicked off his shoes and pulled off his windbreaker even as he thought of it. The next second he was poised at the bow and before Denis Keen could rush up and stay him, he had cleaved a rolling wave below.

He had gauged his dive perfectly for he came up several feet from the bow. The man, seeing him, took fresh courage and used all his remaining strength to fight the demon force that seemed determined to carry him on to certain death.

Hal waved a long muscular arm once to give him encouragement, then struck straight out. He purposely let the tide sweep him a few feet, then flung his slim, lithe body through each succeeding swell until his red curly head, vividly outlined in the range-light, came up soaking but triumphant, directly in the path of the man.

He noticed, not without a feeling of elation, that the boat was already launched and making good headway toward the bow of the tender. Satisfied, he dove into another swell and had but little struggle before he succeeded in grasping the drowning man’s coat collar.

The real struggle was to come, however, for the few seconds following seemed an eternity in which Hal battled a stealthy undertow and valiantly resisted the relentless tide which threatened to sweep him and his semiconscious companion into an ocean grave. The men in the life-boat kept up a continuous din of shouting and their hearty cries of encouragement as they drew near, fell cheeringly upon his buzzing ears.

HAL STRUGGLED AGAINST A STEALTHY UNDERTOW. Frontispiece

A half hour later, Hal, his uncle and Captain Dell were watching the man return to consciousness. Dry clothing and the warmth of clean woolen blankets soon gave to his swarthy cheeks some semblance of natural color. He stirred drowsily.

“He’ll be hisself ’fore long,” observed the captain softly. “Exposure’s what done it more’n anythin’. He didn’t have no water in his lungs ter amount ter anythin’—thanks ter Hal here.”

“No thanks to me, Captain Dell,” Hal protested modestly. “What could I have done for the poor chap without your men and your life-boat? Neither one of us would have had a chance of getting back to this tender without them. I realized that before I dove in to go after him. It was a case of heading him off before the tide swept him any further. Besides, I knew I’d have a rough go of it after I did head him off. Boy, it would have meant curtains for both of us if I’d tried to buck that devilish tide. I just had to be content and battle back on the undertow a few inches each time. Anyhow, they picked us up and here we are!”

“Here you are indeed!” Denis Keen echoed looking at his nephew admiringly. “I knew you’d succeed in keeping yourself and this poor chap here afloat till the boat got close enough, but I felt panicky more than once thinking about sharks.”

Hal laughed softly.

“I didn’t see any, so I didn’t think about them. Besides, I was too busy keeping my eye on this poor bird.” Suddenly his voice dropped to a whisper: “Look, he’s opening his eyes!”

They watched the man anxiously and saw his fluttering lids gradually open wide, revealing brown, startled eyes. He passed a brown hand over his face, then rose unsteadily on his right elbow. From one to the other his glance wandered, then rested on Hal’s handsome face, questioningly.

“Ye’re on the lighthouse tender Cactus, sir,” spoke up the captain. “That young man yer a-starin’ at is the feller what kept yer outa Davey Jones’ locker, believe me! He’s Hal Keen, fer yore information. I’m Cap’n Dell of this here tender.”

The man nodded politely, then turned his attention to Hal. He smiled vaguely and his full, mobile mouth expanded.

“Glad to know yuh, Keen,” he said in broad New-Yorkese. “I saw that red head o’ yourn pop over the bow of the tender an’ right away I felt better. Yuh sure held on to me coat collar. Well, some day I’ll do somethin’ for you, but it won’t be in the ocean I guess—I ain’t the swimmer what youse are! I gotta hand it to yuh.”

Hal waved away the compliment, giving due credit to those of the Cactus crew who had assisted in the rescue. Suddenly Denis Keen interposed and after introducing himself asked some questions: the man’s name, what he was doing aboard the wreck of the Sister Ann, and where he came from.

The man lay back on his pillow, a trifle disconcerted, Hal thought. For a moment the expression on his swarthy face was sullen, but suddenly he looked up at his questioner and smiled that queer, vague smile.

“New York’s where I come from, Mr. Keen, sir,” he said respectfully enough, though still smiling. “Me name’s Danny—Danny Sears, and I’m an able seaman, shippin’ as second mate on me last voyage to Honduras. I come up from New York yesterday and got in Rocky Cliff village last night. I’m an old buddy of the lightkeeper at Skeleton Rocks. . . .”

“Who—Barrowe?” Denis Keen asked incisively.

Danny Sears ceased smiling for a moment and looked thoughtfully into space.

“Yeah—Barrowe,” he answered without glancing up. “I hired a boat at the village tuh take a trip over an’ see the old guy, an’ all of a suddint I see the wreck—I seen it in the light from the Rocks. So I just gets snoopy tuh see how bad she’s bein’ cut up at the reef an’ I climbs over her tuh look aroun’. You guys know what happened tuh me when I goes tuh git back in the dory.”

Denis Keen nodded absently.

“It’s quite a distance from Rocky Cliff village to Skeleton Rocks, Mr. Sears,” he said at length. “To undertake the trip at night and in a dory—your reason for wanting to see Barrowe under those conditions must have been urgent, indeed!”

Danny Sears nodded vehemently.

“I heard at the village when I got there that Barrowe’s buddy, Hollins, was dead. So I thought I’d start out tonight an’ keep him comp’ny instead o’ going tomorrow like I figured to. That’s how it was.”

“I see.” Denis Keen smiled and rose. “We’ll be getting out of here so you can get some rest.”

“An’ termorrer mornin’, Mr. Sears,” said the captain, also rising, “yer kin continue yer journey ter see Barrowe. Yer kin go over safe an’ sound in one o’ the supply boats.”

Mr. Sears smiled and thanked him, thanked them all, particularly Hal. His vague smile rested on that slim, red-headed giant and for a moment real gratitude gleamed in his brown eyes.

Hal spoke of it when he and his uncle were again alone in their cabin.

“He’s a funny sort of bird, this Danny Sears,” he was saying. “He seemed quite grateful though.”

“Why, though?” queried his uncle.

“I hardly realized I was saying the word, Unk. As a matter of fact, I don’t believe all that he said. Somehow I don’t.”

“Neither do I, Hal.”

Hal wheeled around and faced his uncle.

“I half suspected it. For one thing, I noticed you didn’t ask him why he ducked in his boat every time the light from the Rocks hit him. That was suspicious in itself. He surely didn’t act as if he wanted anyone on board this tender to see him. Why didn’t you ask him about it?”

Denis was already stretched out in the luxurious warmth of his bunk.

“I didn’t ask him because I knew he’d lie. That’s reason enough, isn’t it, Hal?”

“But . . .”

“But we knew when he was rowing toward the wreck that he didn’t want to be seen, didn’t we? Hal, Danny Sears had some very definite reason for wanting to get to the Sister Ann. I doubt very much that he was on his way to Skeleton Rocks.”

“I had that feeling too, Unk. That smile of his . . . there’s something wrong with that, smile. I’d give a whole lot to know just what it is.”

Hal did give a whole lot to find out what was wrong with Danny Sears’ smile. In point of fact, he risked his life to do so.