The Iron Boys on the Ore Boats Part 34

His orders were carried out with a snap, and a moment later the dripping figure of Smith appeared above the level of the deck.

"You're a fine lot of lubbers," growled the stoker. "You let a man go overboard and then forget he's there. I ought to throw the bunch of you overboard."

"Take those boys to their cabins as soon as you get the water out of them," ordered Captain Simms.

"No, no; I'm all right," protested Steve, pulling himself together and staggering away from the men who were thumping him with their closed fists, hoping in that way to bring him back to himself.

The stoker had betaken himself to the fire room to dry off. His face had once more regained its surly, hang-dog expression, and he made rough answers to the few questions that were put to him by his fellow-workers in the stoke-hole.

At last the workers succeeded in shaking most of the water out of Bob Jarvis. He had swallowed a lot of it and was so weak that he could not stand.

At Steve's suggestion they carried Bob around on the lee side of the after deck-house. The steward came running out with a bottle of brandy, some of which he sought to pour down between the boy's blue lips.

Jarvis thrust the bottle aside, half angrily.

"None--none of that horrible stuff for me! I--I'd rather be full of Lake Superior water and--and _that's_ the limit----"

Steve stooped over, and placing his hands under the other boy's arms, lifted him to his feet.

"Brace up! You're all right now," encouraged Rush.

"Yes. I'm all right, _only_----"

The sailors laughed at this; then they shouted, more from relief from the strain under which they had been laboring than because of the humor of Jarvis's reply.

"Want to go in and lie down now?" questioned Steve, barely able to keep his feet.

"No!"

"Then we'll walk and see if we can get our sea legs," proposed Steve, slipping an arm about his companion's waist and starting slowly toward the stern. The boys could hardly keep their feet, they were still so weak. They staggered from one side of the pa.s.sage to the other, but their iron grit kept them up.

"How is little Marie?" demanded Jarvis, suddenly turning to Rush.

"Come; we will go and see. We were forgetting our duty," muttered Steve, starting for the cabin, where the little girl had been taken.

CHAPTER XXI

A NEW HAND AT THE WHEEL

MARIE had entirely recovered consciousness when the lads entered the steward's cabin. But the child's face was chalky white, her lips colorless and her eyes dull.

Captain Simms had sent for his wife, who, ill in her stateroom, had not known of the exciting events that were taking place at the other end of the s.h.i.+p. Mrs. Simms forgot all about her seasickness when summoned and told what had happened.

Marie's eyes lighted up when they rested on the dripping forms of the Iron Boys.

"h.e.l.lo, kiddie," greeted Jarvis. "How'd you like your swim?"

"Come and kiss me," answered the child simply.

Jarvis blushed, but braced himself. Then, stooping over, he gently kissed the little one on the cheek.

"You, too, Steve," she nodded with compelling eyes.

Then Steve Rush kissed her, patted her cheek and straightened up to meet the arms of the captain's wife.

"You saved her life," she murmured.

"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Simms; it's Bob Jarvis whom you should thank.

He's the real hero this time. I'm only a sort of a.s.sistant hero," said Steve with a laugh.

The captain tried to speak, but something seemed to stick in his throat.

He gulped, swallowed, then grasping both boys by the shoulders thrust them from the cabin.

"Get out! Get out you young rascals before I give you a sound thumping!"

he exploded, as the Iron Boys, laughing heartily, were ejected to the deck.

"That's a fine way to show a fellow's appreciation," snorted Bob. "Do you know where that kiddie was going when she was swept overboard? I mean, before she was swept over?"

"Coming aft?"

"Yes; she was coming aft. She was coming aft to make a cake for you and me, that's what she was doing. She told me she was going to bake one for us to-day and she had the stuff in her hands that she was going to put into the cake. It's a shame," added Jarvis, his voice pitched a little higher than usual.

"Yes, but not half so bad as if we hadn't saved her, old man. I'm proud of you, Bob Jarvis."

"You needn't be. I was the easiest kind of a mark. I would have drowned if it hadn't been for you."

"And both of us would undoubtedly have gone down had it not been for the stoker, Smith. What do you make of that, Bob?"

Jarvis halted reflectively.

"I think," announced the lad wisely, "that he was--was--what do you say a fellow is suffering from when he goes dippy up here?" tapping the top of his head.

"Temporary aberration?"

"That's it. I wish I could think of things ready-made, the way you do.

Well, I believe he must have been suffering from that. He'll be wanting to lick us again the minute he sets eyes on us."

"Here he comes now. He's just come up from his watch. Oh, Smith!"

The stoker halted, then started on again. Steve grasped his arm. The fellow shook the lad loose.

"See here, we want to talk to you."

Smith halted reluctantly.

"I want to take back every unpleasant thing I have ever said to you. At the same time I want to apologize for what I have done. I've been in the wrong all the time, I guess. Will you shake hands?"