Helen in the Editor's Chair Part 30

"About twenty feet," replied her brother. "Better slip on those life preservers and get ready to jump. We're taking water fast."

"There are several hundred in the lockers here," said Helen. "I'm going to pa.s.s them out to the people on deck."

"It will only alarm them," said Tom.

"But they've got to have a chance if we go under," replied Helen and with Margaret to help her, she hurled scores of life preservers out of the pilot house onto the deck.

The pa.s.sengers had lost their first panic. They knew the _Queen_ was making a valiant fight to reach sh.o.r.e but the tenseness, the grimness of the crew told them it was going to be close. In the emergency they used their heads and put on the life preservers as fast as Helen and Margaret could pull them from the lockers.

The lights of Rolfe were agonizingly close. Less than six hundred feet separated them from the safety of the sandy sh.o.r.e. On the upper deck the pa.s.sengers were quiet, ready for the crisis.

Tom leaned close to the speaking tube. The chief engineer was talking.

"What's he saying?" Helen demanded.

"Water's in the engine room," replied her brother. "The fires under the boiler will be out in another minute or two. Then blewy!"

"Isn't there enough steam to make sh.o.r.e?" asked Margaret desperately, for after her experience on the lake earlier in the summer she had a very real fear of Dubar at night.

"All we can do is hope," replied Tom. "They'll keep the engines turning over as long as there is any steam left."

The warning from the whistle was bringing people from town and they were gathering under the electrics along the beach. Helen wondered if they knew that death was riding on the bow of the _Queen_, that tragedy was waiting to swoop down on the old boat and its load of excursionists.

The _Queen_ staggered, wabbled dangerously, and the wheel jerked out of Tom's hands. He grabbed the spokes and held the bow steady as the _Queen_ stumbled ahead. They could see the faces of the people on the beach now, saw the look of horror that spread over them as they saw the stove-in bow of the _Queen_. There were only two hundred feet to go but they were still in deep water.

The voice from the speaking tube rolled into the pilot house.

"Steam's gone!"

On the echo of the words the steady beat of the engines slowed and it was only by clinging to the wheel with all of his strength that Tom held the _Queen_ in to sh.o.r.e.

The bow was almost even with the water now. They seemed to be plowing their way into the depths of the lake. Then the bow lifted and grated on the sand. The momentum carried the _Queen_ forward, s.h.i.+vering and protesting at every foot it was driven into the beach.

There was a wild scramble on the main deck, cries of relief and happiness as pa.s.sengers by the score jumped into the knee deep water and ran for sh.o.r.e. The men, women and children on the upper deck hurried down the stairs while through it all the band kept up its steady blare, the crash of bra.s.s on bra.s.s and the constant thump, thump of the ba.s.s drum.

The danger past, Tom stepped back from the wheel. His arms felt as though they had been almost pulled from their sockets, so great had been the strain of holding the _Queen_ on its course.

Helen and Margaret stripped off their life preservers and went down to the main deck with Tom. There they found Captain Billy and the crew of the _Queen_ gathered at the bow of the boat. A great hole had been torn in the old steamer's hull by the speed boat and Tom marveled that they had been able to make sh.o.r.e.

"Why didn't we sink out in the lake?" he asked Captain Billy.

"Guess we might have," smiled the captain, "but we managed to hold the speed boat in the hole it had made until we were most to sh.o.r.e. Otherwise we'd have filled and gone down inside a couple of minutes after they hit us."

A decidedly sheepish young man broke through the group and faced Captain Billy.

"I'm the owner of the boat that hit you," he explained. "We were going to see how close we could come and one of the girls in the boat tickled me and I swung the wheel the wrong way."

"You almost swung about four hundred people into the lake," Captain Billy reminded him tartly.

"I'm terribly sorry," replied the owner of the speed boat, "and I'm decidedly grateful to you for fis.h.i.+ng us out of it after we hit you. I'm Maxfield Hooker of Cranston and I'll be glad to pay for all of the damage to your boat."

"We'll talk about that later," said Captain Billy. "I've got to see that those excursionists all make their trains."

"Did you get that?" said Tom as he nudged Helen. "Maxfield Hooker of Cranston, son of the multi-millionaire soap manufacturer. Captain Billy can have a new _Queen_ if he wants one."

"My guess is that he won't want one," said Helen. "After all, the _Queen_ has had a long and useful career and she certainly proved herself in the emergency tonight."

Captain Billy made sure that all of the excursionists were safely off the boat and that done, he came back to where Tom, Helen and Margaret were standing.

"I've a great deal to be thankful for," he told them. "It was only through the nerve and calmness of the crew and such as you three that the _Queen_ pulled through. Tom, I'm eternally grateful to you for sticking in the pilot house and to you girls for having the presence of mind to pa.s.s out the life preservers."

Before they could reply Captain Billy turned and hastened up to the pilot house. Tom started to follow but Helen stopped him.

"Don't go," she said. "He wants to say good-bye to the _Queen_."

CHAPTER XV _Success Attends_

Later that night the _Queen_ caught fire and burned to the water's edge.

Some said that Captain Billy, saddened by the tragedy which had almost befallen the majestic old craft, had set the fire himself but none ever knew definitely.

Helen telephoned the story of Captain Billy and the burning of the _Queen_ to the _a.s.sociated Press_ at Cranston and found the night editor there anxious for the story.

"Great human interest stuff," he said as he hung up.

The Blairs and Stevens watched the burning of the _Queen_ from the knoll on which the Blair home was situated and later they saw the shower of fireworks set off at Crescent Beach, far down the lake. It was well after midnight when they finally called it a day, one which would long be remembered by Tom and Helen Blair and Margaret Stevens.

The second day of the celebration, Sunday, they rested quietly at home and planned for the coming week.

With the Monday morning mail came the papers from Cranston, a letter from McClintock of the _a.s.sociated Press_ and new thrills for Helen.

The Cranston papers blazoned her story of "Speed" Rand's plans to circle the globe in a nonstop refueling flight on the front page and the big surprise was the first line which read: "By Helen Blair, Special Correspondent of the a.s.sociated Press, Copyright 1932 (All Rights Reserved)."

Helen gazed at the story in frank awe and amazement. She knew it was a highly important story, but to get a by-line with the a.s.sociated Press was an honor she scarcely had dared dream about.

The letter from McClintock commended her further for her work, promised that her monthly check would be a liberal one and added that when she finished high school he would be glad to consider her for a job with the a.s.sociated Press.

Helen sat down and wrote a long letter to her father, telling in detail the events of the Fourth and enclosing the a.s.sociated Press story and her letter from McClintock. That done, she turned to the task of writing her stories for the _Weekly Herald_. Tom was out soliciting ads, Margaret had gone down the lake to check up at both summer resorts about possible accidents and she had the office to herself that morning.

Which story should Helen write first, "Speed" Rand's world flight, the celebration at Sandy Point or the story of Captain Billy and the _Queen_?

She threaded a sheet of copy paper into her typewriter and sought inspiration in a blank gaze at the ceiling. Inspiration failed to come from that source and she scrawled aimlessly with pencil and paper, her mind mulling over the myriad facts of her stories. Then she started typing. Her first story concerned Captain Billy and the _Queen_, for Captain Billy and his ancient craft were known to every reader of the _Herald_. They were home news. "Speed" Rand and his plans concerned the outside world.

The events of the night of the Fourth were indelibly printed in Helen's mind and the copy rolled from her typewriter, two, four, six, ten pages.

She stopped long enough to delve into the files and find the story which the _Herald_ had printed 23 years before when the _Queen_ made her maiden trip on Lake Dubar. Two more pages of copy rolled from her machine.