CAPTAIN WIGGS’S PROPOSAL
Fenn had to stand considerable “jollying” on the part of his chums, but, though he blushed and was a little annoyed, he took it in good part.
“You can talk about Ruth all you like,” he said, “but, just the same, if you have any plans to beat a cruise on the Great Lakes, why – trot ’em out, that’s all. We’ve got to go somewhere this vacation, and I don’t see any better place, though I’ve looked through the whole geography.”
“And the only place you could get to was Bayville,” interrupted Ned. “It’s all right, Stumpy. I agree with you, that it would be a fine trip.”
“How could we make it?” asked Frank.
“Walk, of course,” replied Bart, with a grin. “It’s water all the way.”
“Funny!” answered Frank, poking his sarcastic chum in the ribs. “I mean where could we get a boat?”
“Hire one, I s’pose,” put in Fenn, who had been busy marking an imaginary cruise in lead pencil on the map of the Great Lakes.
“That would be pretty expensive,” said Bart. “We’re not millionaires, though we each have a little money salted away in the bank.”
The boys discussed the proposed cruise for some time longer, but there seemed no way of going on it. To hire a steamer or motorboat for such a long trip was practically out of the question for them, and, with much regret they all admitted it could not be considered.
“Come over to-morrow night,” invited Fenn, when his chums left that evening. “Maybe we can think of something by then.”
The next afternoon Fenn, who had gone to the store for his mother, stopped, on his way back, at the public dock of the Still River, where several vessels were loading with freight for Lake Erie ports. There was much hurrying about and seeming confusion; wagons and trucks backing up and going ahead, and scores, of men wheeling boxes and barrels on board lighters and steamers.
“Port! Port your helm!” suddenly called a voice, almost in Fenn’s ear, and he jumped to one side, to allow a short, stout man, with his arms full of bundles, to pass him. “That’s it!” the man went on. “Nearly run you down, didn’t I? Thought you were a water-logged craft in my course. Why, hello! If it isn’t Fenn Masterson!”
“Captain Wiggs!” exclaimed Fenn, recognizing the commander of the Modoc.
“Looking for a berth?” went on the captain, as he placed his bundles down on the head of a barrel. “I can sign you as cleaner of the after boiler tubes, if you like,” and he looked so grave that Fenn did not know whether he was joking or not. It was a habit the captain had, of making the most absurd remarks in a serious way, so that even his friends, at times, did not quite know how to take him. “Yes,” he went on, “I need a small boy to crawl through the after boiler tubes twice a day to keep ’em clean. Would you like the job?”
“I – I don’t believe so,” replied Fenn, with a smile, for now he knew Captain Wiggs was joking.
“All right then,” said the commander, with an assumed sigh. “I’ll have to do it myself, and I’m getting pretty old and fat for such work. The tubes are smaller than they used to be. But I dare say I can manage it. Where you going?” he asked Fenn suddenly, with a change of manner.
“No place in particular. Home, pretty soon. Why?”
“I was going to ask you to come aboard and have a glass of lemonade,” invited the captain. “It’s a hot day and lemonade is the best drink I know of.”
“Oh, I’ll come,” decided Fenn, for Captain Wiggs’s lemonade had quite a reputation. Besides there were always queer little chocolate cakes in the captain’s cabin lockers, for he was very fond of sweet things, as Fenn knew from experience.
“Haven’t saved any more sinking automobiles, lately, have you?” asked the commander, when Fenn was seated in the cabin, sipping a glass of the delicious beverage.
“No. Mr. Hayward has gone back to Bayville.”
“Bayville? Is that where he lives?” asked Captain Wiggs.
“That’s it,” replied Fenn. “Why?”
“That’s odd,” mused the captain. “I’m going right near there, this cruise. You see I’ve got a mixed cargo this trip,” he explained. “I’ve got to deliver some things at several lake ports, but the bulk of the stuff goes to Duluth. Now if you would only ship with me, as cleaner of the after boiler tubes, why you could go along.”
“Could I?” asked Fenn eagerly.
“Sure.”
“And – and could you take any other boiler tube cleaners, or – or any other help?”
“Well, I need a couple of lads to dust the coal,” said the captain, so seriously that Fenn thought he meant it. “You see if coal is dusty it doesn’t burn well,” he added. “We have to dust off every lump before we can put it in the boiler. Now a couple of handy lads, who were quick and smart could – ”
“Maybe you could use three,” suggested Fenn, with a smile.
“Sure I could,” spoke the captain. “That’s it!” he added quickly. “You and your three chums! Why not? You four could come along, and, if necessary, you could all dust coal. We use a lot of it. Come on now, here’s a proposal for you,” and the captain smiled good naturedly. “You four boys come along and make the trip to Duluth with me.”
“Would it – would it cost much?” asked Fenn, seeing a chance of carrying out the cruise he had planned.
“Not a cent. I tell you I’ll use you boys in more ways than one. Dusting the coal is only a small matter. There is the smoke stack to be scrubbed, the dishes to be hand painted and the windows to be taken out and put in again.”
“Do you mean it?” asked Fenn. “I mean, do you really want us on this trip, Captain Wiggs?”
“Of course I do. I sail in three days, to be gone a month or more. If you boys want to have a good vacation come along. Get the permission of your folks and let me know to-night.”
“I will!” exclaimed Fenn, his brain whirling with the suddenness of it all. “I’ll tell the other boys right away,” and, not even pausing to thank the captain for the lemonade, he hurried up the companion ladder, out on the deck of the Modoc and, jumping to the dock, ran up the street as fast as he could go.
CHAPTER VI
IN PERIL
“Here’s the stuff from the store, mom!” exclaimed Fenn, as he rushed into the house.
“What’s the matter?” asked his mother anxiously. “Has there been an accident, Fenn?”
“Got to find the boys! Captain Wiggs! Modoc! Going on a cruise! Tell you later!” was what Fenn exclaimed in jerky sentences as he hurried down the side steps and out of the yard.
“Oh, those boys! They get so excited you can’t do anything with them!” exclaimed Mrs. Masterson. “I wonder what they’re up to now?”
If she could have seen her son and his chums, whom he met on the street, soon after his hurried exit, she would have been more puzzled than ever.
“Great news! Great!” yelled Fenn, as he caught sight of Frank, Ned and Bart approaching him. “We’re going with Captain Wiggs to make a tour of the Great Lakes! Whoop! Hold me down, somebody!”
He grabbed Ned and Bart, each by an arm, and began whirling them around in a good imitation of an Indian war dance.
“Here! Let up!” cried Frank. “What’s it all about? Who’s killed?”
“Nobody, you ninny!” shouted Fenn. “We’re going on the Modoc!”
“Who says so?”
“When?”
“How