Four Afloat Part 26

"I have a perfect complexion," said Tom gravely. "It is like peaches and cream. Yours is like-like apple sauce." He bolted for the toilet room and got the door fastened behind him before Dan could reach him.

"Looks to me as though we were here for a while," observed Nelson, glancing through a port at the impenetrable grayness outside. "We can't go chugging around the place in this fog."

"Maybe it will burn off after a time," said Bob. "If we get to Newport before dark we can spend the night there. What's the good of hurrying, anyhow? We haven't got to get anywhere at any particular time."

"Well, there's Dan to think of. He's homesick and wants to get to New York, you know."

"The only thing I want to get is breakfast," answered Dan. "And I intend to have b.u.t.ter with it, too. Tommy's got to hike out and find some."

"I won't!" cried Tom from behind the part.i.tion. "I'm cook and don't have to run errands."

"We'll see about that," returned Dan grimly. Tom, who had begun to splash water in the basin again, ceased operations for a moment.

"I won't, I won't!" he called gleefully. "I've mutinied. Down with the captain! I'm going to scuttle the s.h.i.+p in a minute. Anyone seen the scuttle?"

"No, but several persons are going to see your finish when you come out," answered Dan. "We're going to string you to the yardarm."

"There isn't any!"

"Then we'll keel-haul you, whatever that is."

"I demand to be put in chains. Then I can't go for b.u.t.ter."

"We really ought to have a brig," said Nelson.

"What's that?" asked Tom anxiously. "Can you eat it?"

"It's a place where they confine sailors that don't behave themselves, a sort of prison cell."

"How would the ice box do?" Bob asked.

"Huh," answered Dan, "that would be a prison cell on us; Tommy would eat up everything in there and then we'd have to knock the box to pieces to get him out."

"Well," said Tom in an aggrieved voice, "if I can't be put in chains I refuse to mutiny."

So he went for b.u.t.ter instead. Bob volunteered to start breakfast and Tom got into the tender and paddled off into the fog on his errand.

"If I get lost," he called, "you must blow the whistle so I'll know where to find you."

"All right," Nelson answered. "Only you'll have to let us know."

"Sure; I'll send you a telegram." And Tom disappeared whistling gayly.

The others finished dressing, and then, while Bob started the fire, found the bacon and sliced bread, made the coffee and set the table, Dan and Nelson pulled the deck awning out of the locker and set about spreading it over the stanchions. It had not been used before on the present trip and it took them some time to solve the intricacies of it.

But finally it was in place, Dan had wiped the chairs and seat until they were comparatively dry and Nelson had tended to the lanterns. By that time breakfast was ready and Tom had been gone a full half hour.

"How far is the store?" asked Dan impatiently.

"Oh, just a little ways," said Bob. "Maybe, though, it wasn't open when he got there."

"More likely he's gone and got lost in the fog," said Nelson anxiously.

"If he doesn't show up pretty soon, let's eat. I'm starving."

So, when ten minutes more had pa.s.sed without Tom's appearance, the three sat down to breakfast. By that time Dan was so hungry that he didn't care whether there was any b.u.t.ter or not. They finished the meal and returned to the deck.

"Maybe we'd better start the whistle," suggested Dan.

"If we call out it will do just as well," said Bob. "Come on, all together!"

"_O Tommy!_" they yelled. There was no answer. They tried again and still again.

"Oh, let him alone," said Dan disgustedly. "He'll find his way back when he gets ready. I dare say he's found a candy store."

"Well, we'll leave some breakfast for him," said Bob. "Come on down and let's get the things washed up. I vote we have luncheon on sh.o.r.e."

The fog held steadily. Now and then voices reached them or the creaking of a boom as some small craft tried to work her way out of the harbor.

But for the most part the silence was as thick as the fog which rolled in across the island. The awning was some protection, but it didn't keep the c.o.c.kpit dry by any manner of means, and so they got into their oilskins. When five bells had struck below Nelson got worried and tried the whistle. After the third or fourth blast a voice hailed them from off to starboard.

"h.e.l.lo, there! What's the matter?" was the inquiry.

"One of our fellows has gone ash.o.r.e and hasn't come back," answered Nelson. "We thought maybe he had got lost in the fog. Where are you?"

"On the steamboat wharf," was the reply.

"On the steamboat wharf!" muttered Nelson, looking perplexedly about him into the mist. "But the wharf ought to be in the opposite direction, Bob!"

"Pshaw!" answered Bob. "The tide's swung the boat around, that's what's happened."

"And Tommy's gone off across the harbor!" chuckled Dan, "looking for b.u.t.ter!"

"What's over there, I wonder?" asked Nelson.

"I don't know," Bob replied, "but it's a good mile across in a straight line."

"And Tommy was never able to row straight in his life," laughed Dan.

"Oh, well, he'll get onto himself after a while and come back."

"He's been gone long enough already to have rowed over there and back two or three times," said Bob uneasily. "Toot your old whistle some more, Nel."

And Nelson obeyed, blowing the whistle at intervals for the next hour and only ceasing when the air pressure gave out. And Tom refused to show up.

At twelve they began to think of luncheon.

"Wherever he is," said Dan, "he's safe enough. Trust Tommy to look after himself! I dare say he's toasting himself in front of someone's stove and eating caramels. So I say we go ash.o.r.e and find some luncheon.

Something tells me that it is approaching the hour."

"Don't happen to know how we're going to get ash.o.r.e, do you?" asked Nelson. Dan's face fell.