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The Rover Boys in Southern Waters Part 19

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"All well enough to hope that, but I am afraid we have some work before us, perhaps something we won't like," said d.i.c.k, seriously.

"Those men know that the prison is staring them in the face, and they will do all in their power to escape. If cornered they may put up a stiff fight."

"Well, we can put up a fight too," answered Sam.

The conversation took place on the forward deck of the _Mascotte_, a gulf steamer running from Mobile to Tampa and other points on the Florida coast. Two days had pa.s.sed since the boys had arrived at Bay St. Louis and in that time they had accomplished several things of more or less importance.

It had been an easy matter to obtain all possible information from Solly Jackson, and for the time being the fellow was in the hands of the law, awaiting further developments. He had promised, if the others were captured, that he would give evidence against them, and in return for this d.i.c.k and Harold Bird said they would be easy on the carpenter when he came up for trial.



The gasoline launch had been raised without much trouble and towed to a s.h.i.+pyard, where she was to undergo repairs. The craft was not damaged a great deal, but would need a new gasoline tank and some new seats. Fortunately the gasoline supply had been low at the time the fire broke out, otherwise those on board would have been blown sky-high.

After numerous inquiries Tom and Sam Rover had learned that Pold, Todd, and Dan Baxter had taken pa.s.sage for Tampa on a schooner named the _Dogstar_. The vessel carried a light load of lumber consigned to a firm that was erecting a new winter hotel on Tampa Bay, and expected to make a fairly quick pa.s.sage across the gulf.

The Rovers and their friends had taken the train from Bay St. Louis to Mobile, after first sending messages to Mrs. Stanhope, Mrs. Laning, and the girls. At Mobile they had just been in time to catch the _Mascotte_ and had been equally fortunate in securing several vacant staterooms.

"We'll head them off this time," said Tom, yet this was by no means certain, it depending somewhat on the quickness of the trip made by the lumber schooner. The _Mascotte_ was by no means a first-cla.s.s steamer, and it had been a question, the day before the voyage was undertaken, if she had not better be laid up for repairs to her engine and boilers. But of this our friends knew nothing.

As soon as the trip was begun d.i.c.k and Harold Bird had an interview with the captain of the steamer and told the latter how anxious they were to get track of the _Dogstar_. To their dismay, however, the captain proved to be anything but agreeable and said he could not bother himself over their personal affairs, even when offered pay to do so.

"He's a regular lemon," said Tom. "I don't think he'd do a favor for anybody."

"And this steamer is a tub," answered Sam. "I shouldn't wish to travel very far in her."

Yet with it all the boys felt in pretty fair spirits as they gathered on the deck and talked matters over. But in less than an hour they were in open rebellion.

They went to the dining room for dinner and were served with food that was scarcely fit to eat. As they had paid for first-cla.s.s accommodations all found fault.

"Waiter, bring me some meat that isn't burnt," said Sam.

"And bring me some that is fresh," added Harold Bird.

"And bring me a cup of coffee that is worth more than ten cents a pound," came from Songbird. "This is nothing but mud."

"Even this bread is next door to being sour," said Fred.

"Yah, dis vos der vorst tinner vot I efer see alretty!" was Hans'

comment. "I vos make a kick py der cabtain, ain't it!"

"Sorry, gen'men," said the waiter. "But dat meat am de best we have, an' dar ain't no udder kind ob coffee an' bread, sah!"

"Whose fault is it, the cook's or the captain's?" asked Tom.

At this question the waiter shrugged his shoulders. Then he leaned over and whispered into Tom's ear.

"Wish yo' would make a kick--I hates to serve sech food--'deed I does!"

The boys left the table half hungry and so did the other pa.s.sengers.

d.i.c.k walked up to one of the others.

"Don't you think we ought to make them serve us with better food?"

he asked, flatly.

"I do, sir," was the answer of the pa.s.senger. "But the cook said it was the best he had. He said we might go to the captain or to anybody we please. He is going to leave the boat when we arrive at Tampa."

Without more ado d.i.c.k, Harold Bird, and about a dozen others sought out Captain Fretwood, who was in his private cabin.

"What is it?" demanded the officer, eying the crowd sourly.

"We have come to complain of the food served at dinner," said d.i.c.k.

"It was so poor we could not eat it."

"Oh, the food is all right," answered the captain in an overbearing tone.

"No, it is not all right," put in Harold Bird.

"We paid for first-cla.s.s accommodations and we want first-cla.s.s food,"

put in Tom, with spirit.

"That's the talk," came from several in the crowd.

"See here, I am not to be dictated to by a lot of boys!" cried Captain Fretwood, angrily. "We are giving you good food, and that is all there is to it."

"It's a fraud!" cried Sam.

"A downright imposition," added Songbird.

"Our tickets read 'First Cabin with Meals,'" said Fred. "Those meals aren't good enough for steerage pa.s.sengers. Unless you give us something better--"

"Ha! do you threaten me on my own s.h.i.+p?" bellowed the captain.

"We certainly do!" said d.i.c.k, as Fred glanced at him questioningly.

"I can put you in irons for it, young man!"

"No, you can't. We are not going to touch you or any of your crew.

But unless you serve us with first-cla.s.s food from now on I, for one, shall make a complaint against you as soon as we land, and have you arrested."

At this announcement the face of the captain of the _Mascotte_ grew purple with rage. He stepped forward as if to strike d.i.c.k. But the latter stood his ground, looked the irate officer full in the eyes, and the man paused.

"We have had trouble enough without your adding to it," said Harold Bird. "We ask only that which is due us."

"The young man is perfectly right," said an elderly pa.s.senger. "The food is horrible. If he makes a complaint to the authorities I shall sustain him."

"So will I," added several.

"All right, have your own way," grumbled the captain. "I see you are bound to get me in a hole. If the food wasn't good it was the fault of the cook."

"He says it is your fault, and he is going to leave you at the end of this trip."

"Bah! Well, we'll see. If he can't serve the food properly cooked I'll be glad to get rid of him."

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