The Rover Boys in Southern Waters Part 21

"I think d.i.c.k went overboard too, although I am not sure," came, in Sam's tones.

"Yah, I d.i.n.k dot," answered Hans Mueller. "Und I d.i.n.k Tom he falls ofer also alretty!"

"Hullo, there!" cried d.i.c.k.--"Is that you, Sam?"

"Who calls?" came the answering query. "It is I, d.i.c.k Rover!"

"d.i.c.k!" came from Sam and Hans.

"Where are you?"

"This way!" called Sam, and kept on calling until d.i.c.k drew closer and at last made out his brother and the German boy clinging to another crate.

"This is lucky--as far as it goes," said Sam. "Are you hurt?"

"Not at all. And you?"

"I got a scratch on my wrist, that is all, and Hans says he twisted his left ankle a little. But we are glad we weren't drowned."

"What of the others?"

"I am almost sure Tom went overboard. I think the others remained on the steamer."

"Was she sinking?"

"I think she was. I heard somebody say there was a big hole stove in her near the port bow."

After that the three youths pulled the two crates together. A gra.s.s rope was fastened to one of the affairs and they used this in joining the two, and then the castaways made themselves as comfortable as possible on their improvised raft.

The thought that Tom might have been drowned cast a gloom over Sam and d.i.c.k and also made Hans feel bad. Consequently but little was said for the next few hours. All kept their eyes strained for the sight of some friendly light, but none came to view.

"How many miles do you think we are from sh.o.r.e?" asked Sam, presently.

"I haven't any idea," answered d.i.c.k. "At least fifty or a hundred."

"Ve vill nefer see der land again!" groaned Hans. "I vish ve had gone to dot Dampa py railroad drain, ain't it!"

"Well, even railroad trains occasionally have smash-ups," answered d.i.c.k, philosophically.

At last it began to grow light and with the coming of morning the mist lifted a trifle, so that they were able to see around them. A gentle breeze was blowing, causing the bosom of the gulf to ruffle up. Sam climbed up to the top of the crates.

"See anything?" queried his brother.

"Well, I never!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the youngest Rover. "If that doesn't beat the nation!"

He pointed off to their left and then all looked--and actually laughed.

And well might they do so.

There, on the waters, rode a rude raft made of several empty boxes and crates. On the top of this affair stood a campstool, and on the stool sat Tom Rover, making himself as comfortable as possible.

"Tom!" the others yelled in concert, and the fun-loving Rover looked around eagerly.

"h.e.l.lo, you!" he called back. "How many?"

"Three," answered Sam. "d.i.c.k, Hans, and myself."

"Good enough."

"You certainly seem to be taking it easy," said d.i.c.k, as the two rude rafts floated close to each other.

"Well, why not take it easy if it doesn't cost any more?" demanded Tom, coolly. "I either had to sit on the chair or in the water, and I preferred to sit on the chair."

"Do you know anything about the others, Tom?"

"No, but I am afraid they are drowned," and now the fun-loving Rover became serious. "What makes you think that?" asked Sam.

"I think the steamer went down with nearly everybody on board."

"Dot is terrible!" burst out Hans. "Poor Fred! Und poor Songpird!

Vot vill der folks say ven da hear dot?" And he shook his head, dubiously.

"And poor Harold Bird!" added d.i.c.k. He had taken a strong liking to the young Southerner.

As it grew lighter those on the bosom of the gulf looked vainly for some sign of land or a sail, but hour after hour pa.s.sed and nothing came to view but the waters under them and the mist and sky overhead.

"I am more than hungry," grumbled Tom. "I didn't get half enough to eat on that steamer and now I could lay into almost anything."

"Ditto here," answered his younger brother.

"Der poat must haf gone town," said Hans. "Of not, den da vould look aroundt and pick us ub, hey?"

"I don't believe Captain Fretwood would put himself out to look for us," answered d.i.c.k. "He hated our whole crowd and would gladly get rid of us."

A little later Sam s.h.i.+fted his position and chanced to place a hand in one of his coat pockets.

"Here's luck!" he cried. "Not much, but something." And he drew forth a thick cake of sweet chocolate, done up in tinfoil and paper.

"Oh, it's salted and will make us thirsty," said d.i.c.k.

The chocolate was examined and found to be in fairly good condition, and despite the salt they could not resist the temptation to divide the cake and eat it up. As my readers must know, chocolate is very nouris.h.i.+ng and they felt much better after the brief lunch, although very thirsty.

"I bought that on the train from Bay St. Louis to Mobile," explained the youngest Rover. "Sorry now I didn't get half a dozen."

"And a bottle of lemon soda with it," added Tom, who was bound to have a little fun no matter how serious the outlook.

Slowly the morning wore away. About eleven o'clock it looked as if the sun might come out, but soon it clouded over as before and then the mist began to crawl up.

"This is terrible," sighed Sam, at last. "d.i.c.k, what can we do?"