The Depot Master Part 50

A damp breath blew across the boat. The clouds covered the sky overhead and the bay to port. The fog was pouring like smoke across the water.

"Fog, by thunder!" exclaimed Bartlett.

Issy smiled. "Hum! Yes, 'tis fog, ain't it?" he observed.

"But what'll we do? It'll be here in a minute, won't it?"

"Shouldn't be a mite surprised. Looks 's if twas here now."

The fog came on. It reached the Lady May, pa.s.sed over her, and shut her within gray, wet walls. It was impossible to see a length from her side.

Sam swore emphatically. The skipper was provokingly calm. He stepped to the engine, bent over it, and then returned to the wheel.

"What are you doing?" demanded Bartlett.

"Slowin' down, of course. Can't run more'n ha'f speed in a fog like this. 'Tain't safe."

"Safe! What do I care? I want to get to Trumet."

"Yes? Well, maybe we'll git there if we have luck."

"You idiot! We've GOT to get there. How can you tell which way to steer?

Get your compa.s.s, man! get your compa.s.s!"

"Ain't got no compa.s.s," was the sulky answer. "Left it to home."

"Why, no, you didn't. I--"

"I tell you I did. 'Twas careless of me, I know, but--"

"But I say you didn't. When you went uptown after that quahaug rake I explored this craft of yours some. The compa.s.s is in that little closet at the end of the cabin. I'll get it."

He rose to his feet. Issy sprang forward and seized him by the arm.

"Set down!" he yelled. "Who's runnin' this boat, you or me?"

The astounded pa.s.senger stared at his companion.

"Why, you are," he replied. "But that's no reason--What's the matter with you, anyway? Have your dime novels driven you loony?"

Issy hesitated. For a moment chagrin and rage at this sudden upset of his schemes had gotten the better of his prudence. But Bartlett was taller than he and broad in proportion. And valor--except of the imaginative brand--was not Issy's strong point.

"There, there, Sam!" he explained, smiling crookedly. "You mustn't mind me. I'm sort of nervous, I guess. And you mustn't hop up and down in a boat that way. You set still and I'll fetch the compa.s.s."

He stumbled across the c.o.c.kpit and disappeared in the dusk of the cabin.

Finding that compa.s.s took a long time. Sam lost patience.

"What's the matter?" he demanded. "Can't you find it? Shall I come?"

"No, no!" screamed Issy vehemently. "Stay where you be. Catch a-holt of that wheel. We'll be spinnin' circles if you don't. I'm a-comin'."

But it was another five minutes before he emerged from the cabin, carrying the compa.s.s box very carefully with both hands. He placed it in the binnacle and closed the gla.s.s lid.

"'Twas catched in a bluefish line," he explained. "All snarled up, 'twas."

Sam peered through the gla.s.s at the compa.s.s.

"Thunder!" he exclaimed. "I should say we had spun around. Instead of north being off here where I thought it was, it's 'way out to the right.

Queer how fog'll mix a fellow up. Trumet's about northeast, isn't it?"

"No'theast by no'th's the course. Keep her just there."

The Lady May, still at half speed, kept on through the mist. Time pa.s.sed. The twilight, made darker still by the fog, deepened. They lit the lantern in order to see the compa.s.s card. Issy had the wheel now.

Sam was forward, keeping a lookout and fretting at the delay.

"It's seven o'clock already," he cried. "For Heaven's sake, how late will you be? I've got to be there by quarter of eight. D'you hear? I've GOT to."

"Well, we're gittin' there. Can't expect to travel so fast with part of the power off. You'll be where you're goin' full as soon as you want to be, I cal'late."

And he chuckled.

Another half hour and, through the wet dimness, a light flashed, vanished, and flashed again. Issy saw it and smiled grimly. Bartlett saw it and shouted.

"'What's that light?" he cried. "Did you see it? There it is, off there."

"I see it. There's a light at Trumet Neck, ain't there?"

"Humph! It's been years since I was there, but I thought Trumet light was steady. However--"

"Ain't that the wharf ahead?"

Sure enough, out of the dark loomed the bulk of a small wharf, with catboats at anchor near it. Higher up, somewhere on the sh.o.r.e, were the lighted windows of a building.

"By thunder, we're here!" exclaimed Sam, and drew a long breath.

Issy shut off the power altogether, and the Lady May slid easily up to the wharf. Feverishly her skipper made her fast.

"Yes, sir!" he cried exultantly. "We're here. And no Black Rover nor anybody else ever done a better piece of steerin' than that, nuther."

He clambered over the stringpiece, right at the heels of his impatient but grateful pa.s.senger. Sam's thanks were profuse and sincere.

"I'll never forget it, Is," he declared. "I'll never forget it. And you'll have to let me pay you the--What makes you shake so?"

Issy pulled his arm away and stepped back.

"I'll never forget it, Is," continued Sam. "I--Why! What--?"

He was standing at the sh.o.r.e end of the wharf, gazing up at the lighted windows. They were those of a dwelling house--an old-fas.h.i.+oned house with a back yard sloping down to the landing.

And then Issy McKay leaned forward and spoke in his ear.