E-text prepared by Al Haines

BOB THE CASTAWAY

Or, The Wreck of the Eagle

By

FRANK V. WEBSTER

AUTHOR OF "ONLY A FARM BOY," "THE BOY FROM THE RANCH,"
"THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS," "THE YOUNG TREASURE HUNTER," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED

1909

Books for Boys by FRANK V. WEBSTER

12mo. Illustrated. Bound in cloth.

ONLY A FARM BOY, Or Dan Hardy's Rise in Life
TOM THE TELEPHONE BOY, Or The Mystery of a Message
THE BOY FROM THE RANCH, Or Roy Bradner's City Experiences
THE YOUNG TREASURE HUNTER, Or Fred Stanley's Trip to Alaska
BOB THE CASTAWAY, Or The Wreck of the Eagle
THE YOUNG FIREMEN OF LAKEVILLE, Or Herbert Dare's Pluck
THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS, Or Who Was Dick Box?
THE BOY PILOT OF THE LAKES, Or Nat Morton's Perils
TWO BOY GOLD MINERS, Or Lost in the Mountains
JACK THE RUNAWAY, Or On the Road with a Circus

Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York

CONTENTS

CHAPTER
     I  BOB MAKES TROUBLE
    II  ANOTHER PRANK
   III  A STRANGE PROPOSITION
    IV  TALKING IT OVER
     V  A JOKE THAT WENT WRONG
    VI  MRS. HENDERSON'S DECISION
   VII  BOB IS DELIGHTED
  VIII  GETTING READY
    IX  BOB'S LAST LAND JOKE
     X  OFF ON THE TRIP
    XI  THE "EAGLE" SAILS
   XII  SOME JOKES ON BOB
  XIII  BOB TRIES A PRANK
   XIV  MR. TARBILL GETS A SHOCK
    XV  THE STORM
   XVI  WRECK OF THE SHIP
  XVII  ADRIFT IN SMALL BOATS
 XVIII  BOB ON AN ISLAND
   XIX  FINDING MR. TARBILL
    XX  MAKING THE BEST OF IT
   XXI  MORE ARRIVALS
  XXII  AFLOAT ONCE MORE
 XXIII  A SERIOUS LOSS
  XXIV  DAYS OF HOPELESSNESS
   XXV  HOMEWARD BOUND--CONCLUSION

CHAPTER I

BOB MAKES TROUBLE

"Bob! Bob!" called a woman in loud tones, as she came to the
kitchen door, her arms, with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows,
covered with flour.  "Bob, I want you to go to the store for me.  I
need some more lard for this pie-crust."

There was no answer, and the woman looked across the big yard at
one side of the cottage.

"Where can that boy be?" Mrs. Henderson murmured.  "I saw him here
a little while ago.  He's never around when I want him.  I
shouldn't be surprised but what he was planning some joke.  Oh,
dear!  I wish he was more steady, and wasn't always up to some
mischief.  Still, he's a good boy at heart, and perhaps he'll grow
better when he gets older."

She rubbed her left cheek with the back of her hand, leaving a big
patch of flour under one eye.  Then she called once more.

"Bob!  Bob Henderson!  Where are you?  I want you to go to the
store."

"Here I am, mother.  Were you calling me?" asked a boy, emerging
from behind a big apple tree.

He was not a bad-looking lad, even if his nose did turn up a bit,
though his hair was tinged with red, and his face covered with
freckles.  His blue eyes, however, seemed to sparkle with mischief.

"Did I call you?" repeated Mrs. Henderson.  "I'm hoarse after the
way I had to shout--and you within hearing distance all the while!
Why didn't you answer me?"

"I guess I was so busy thinking, mom, that I didn't hear you."

"Thinking?  More likely thinking of some trick!  What's that you've
got?"

"Nothing," and Bob tried to stuff pieces of paper into a basket
that was already filled to overflowing.

"Yes, 'tis too something.  You're making some more of those paper
snappers that the teacher kept you in after school for the other
night.  Bob, can't you settle down and not be always up to some
trick?"

"I wasn't making these for myself, mom, honest I wasn't,"
expostulated Bob, with an innocent look that did not seem in accord
with the mischief in his blue eyes.  "I was making 'em for Jimmy
Smith."

"Yes, and Jimmy Smith would pop 'em off in school, and when he got
caught he'd say you gave 'em to him, and you'd both be kept in.
Oh, Bob, I don't know what will happen to you next!"

"Why, I wasn't doing anything, honest I wasn't, mom.  Oh, how funny
you look with that patch of flour on your cheek!  Just like a clown
in a circus, only he has white stuff all over his face."

"Well, I must say, Bob Henderson, you're not very complimentary to
your mother, telling her she looks like a circus clown."

"I didn't say you did, mom.  You only look like half a clown."

"That's just as bad."

Bob took advantage of this little diversion to hide the paper
snappers behind the tree while his mother was wiping the flour off
her face.  The snappers were oblong pieces of stout wrapping paper,
folded in such a way that when swung through the air they went off
like a bag blown up and crushed between the hands.  Bob was an
expert in their manufacture.

"Come," went on Mrs. Henderson, when she was satisfied that her
face was no longer adorned with flour, "I want you to go to the
store for some lard.  Tell Mr. Hodge you want the best.  Here's the
money."

"All right, mom, I'll go right away.  Do you want anything else?"

Now Bob usually made more of a protest than this when asked to go
to the store, which was at the other end of the village of
Moreville, where he lived.  He generally wanted to stay at his
play, or was on the point of going off with some boy of his
acquaintance.

But this time he prepared to go without making any complaint, and
had his mother not been so preoccupied thinking of her housework,
she might have suspected that the lad had some mischief afoot--some
scheme that he wanted to carry out, and which going to the store
would further.

"No, I guess the lard is all I need now," she said.  "Now do hurry,
Bob.  Don't stop on the way, for I want to get these pies baked
before supper."

"I'll hurry, mom."

There was a curious smile on Bob's face, and as he got his hat from
the ground before setting off on the errand he looked in his pocket
to see if he had a certain long, stout piece of cord.

"I guess that will do the trick," murmured the boy to himself.
"Oh, yes, I'll hurry back all right!  Guess I'll have to if I don't
want Bill Hodge to catch me."

There was a cunning look on Bob's face, and the twinkle in his eyes
increased as he set off down the village street.

"I hope he doesn't get into mischief," murmured Mrs. Henderson, as
she went back to her work in the kitchen.  "If he wasn't such an
honest boy, I would be more worried than I am about him.  But I
guess he will outgrow it," she added hopefully.

Bob Henderson, who is to be the hero of our Story, was the only son
of Mr. and Mrs.  Enos Henderson.  They lived in Moreville, a
thriving New England town, and Bob's father was employed in a large
woolen mill in the place.

Bob attended the local school, and he was a sort of leader among a
certain class of boys.  They were all manly chaps, but perhaps were
inclined more to mischief than they should be.  And none of them
was any more inclined that way than Bob.  He was rather wild, and
some of the things he did were unkind and harmful to those on whom
he played jokes.

Bob was always the first to acknowledge he had been in the wrong,
and when it was pointed out to him that he had not done what was
right he always apologized.  Only this was always after the
mischief had been done, and he was just as ready half an hour later
to indulge in another prank.

Nearly every one in Moreville knew Bob, some to their sorrow.  But
in spite of his tricks he was well liked, even though some nervous
women predicted that he would land in jail before he got to be much
older.

It was a pleasant afternoon in June, and Bob had not been home from
school long when his mother sent him after the lard.  As it
happened, this just suited the youth's purpose, for he contemplated
putting into operation a trick he had long planned against William
Hodge, the proprietor of the village grocery store.

So Bob trudged along, whistling a merry tune and jingling in his
pocket the money his mother had given him.

"He'll be as mad as hops," he murmured, "but it can't do much harm.
He'll turn it off before much runs out."

This may seem rather a puzzle to my young readers, but if you have
patience you will soon understand what Bob meant, though I hope
none of you will follow his example.

As Bob walked along he met another lad about his own age.

"Hello, Bob," greeted Ted Neefus.  "Where you goin'?"

"Store."

"What store?"

"Bill Hodge's."

"What fer?"

"Lard."

"Want me t' go 'long?"

"If you want to," and there was a half smile on Bob's face.  Ted
knew the meaning of that smile.  He had more than once been
associated with Bob in his tricks.

"Kin I watch ye?" he asked eagerly.

"What for?" asked Bob with an air of assumed indignation.  "What do
you think I'm going to do?"

"Oh, that's all right," returned Ted.  "I won't say anythin'.  Let
me watch, will yer?"

"I don't s'pose I can stop you," replied Bob, with an appearance of
lofty virtue.  "The street's public property.  I haven't any right
to say you shan't stand in front of Bill's store until I come out.
You can if you want to."

"Maybe I won't then!" exclaimed Ted.

"Better not walk along with me," advised Bob.  "Folks might think
we were up to something."

"That's so.  Like when we burned some feathers under the church
when they were having prayer meeting."

"Don't speak so loud," cautioned Bob.  "You'll give things away."

Thus admonished, Ted took a position well to his chum's rear.
Meanwhile Bob continued on and was soon at the grocery store.

"Good-afternoon, Mr. Hodge," he said politely.

"Arternoon," replied Mr. Hodge, for he was not fond of boys, least
of all Bob Henderson.  "What d' you want?"

He had an air as if he was saying:

"Now none of your tricks, you young rapscallion!  If you play any
jokes on me you'll smart for it!"

"Mother wants a pound of lard--the best lard, Mr. Hodge," said Bob.

"I don't keep any but the best."

"Then I want a pound.  It's a fine day, isn't it?"

"I don't see nothin' the matter with it.   'Tain't rainin' anyhow.
Now don't you upset anything while I go fer the lard.  I have t'
keep it down cellar, it's so hot up here."

Bob knew this.  In fact, he counted on it for what he was about to
do.  No sooner had the storekeeper started down the cellar stairs
than Bob pulled from his pocket a long, stout piece of cord.  He
quickly fastened one end of it to the spigot of a molasses barrel,
which stood about half way back in the store.  Then he ran the cord
forward and across the doorway, about six inches from the floor,
and fastened the other end to a barrel of flour as a sort of anchor.

By this time Mr. Hodge was coming upstairs with the lard in a thin
wooden dish, a piece of paper being over the top.  Bob stood near
the counter piling the scale weights up in a regular pyramid.

"Here, let them alone," growled the storekeeper.  "Fust thing you
know they'll fall an' mebby crack."

"I wouldn't have that happen," said Bob earnestly, but with a
lurking smile on his lips.  "How much is the lard, Mr.  Hodge?"

"Fourteen cents.  It's gone up."

"Something else will be going down soon," murmured Bob.

He paid over the money, took the lard and started out.  As soon as
he reached the front stoop of the store he gave a hasty look
around.  He saw Ted dodging behind a tree across the street.
Suddenly Bob opened his mouth and let out a yell like that which an
Indian might have given when on the warpath.  It was a shriek as if
some one had been hurt.  Then he jumped off the porch and hid
underneath it, one end being open.

An instant later Mr. Hodge, thinking some accident had happened,
rushed to the front door of his store.  But just as he reached it
he went down in a heap, tripped by the string Bob had stretched
across the opening.

The storekeeper was more surprised than hurt, for he was quite
stout and his fat protected him.  As he got up, muttering vengeance
on whatever had upset him, he went to the door to look out.  There
was not a person in sight.

"It must have been that pesky Bob Henderson!" he exclaimed.  "He's
always yellin' an' shoutin'."

He turned back into the store, rubbing his shins.  As he did so he
uttered an exclamation of dismay.  And well he might, for the
spigot of the molasses barrel was wide open, and the sticky brown
fluid was running all over the floor.

CHAPTER II

ANOTHER PRANK

"Drat that boy!" cried Mr. Hodge.  "I'll make him suffer fer this.
I'll have him arrested fer malicious mischief, an' I'll sue his
father.   I'll see if I can't put a stop to sech nonsense."

He did not waste time in words, however, but hastened to shut the
spigot of the molasses barrel to stop the wasteful flow.  However,
two gallons or more had run all over, the floor, making a sticky
pool.

Meanwhile Bob had crawled out from under the stoop and had crossed
the street to Join Ted.

"Did you see anything?" he asked.

"Did I?" asked Ted.  "Well, I should say I did.  It was great.
How'd ye think of it?"

"Did I do anything?" asked Bob innocently.  "I thought Bill Hodge
stubbed his toe and fell.  Probably he slipped in some molasses."

"Did you pull the spigot open?"

"Me?  No, I didn't, but maybe the string did.  I guess I've got to
hurry home with this lard.  Mom wants to make some pies."

Bob got home much sooner than his mother expected he would.  He
gave her the lard, and then went out under the apple tree where he
had left the paper snappers.

"He's back quick," mused Mrs. Henderson.  "I don't see how he had
time to do any mischief.  Perhaps he didn't play any tricks on any
one this time," for Bob seldom went through the village but what he
did so.  However, Mrs. Henderson was mistaken, as we know.

During this time Mr. Hodge was busy wiping as much of the molasses
off the floor as he could with old cloths and pieces of newspaper.
While he was doing this a customer came in and inquired:

"What's the matter?  Molasses barrel spring a leak, Bill?"

"Leak?  No, it was that pesky Bob Henderson.  Wait till I git hold
of him!  I'll make him smart.  An' I'm goin' to sue his father."

"What did he do?  Why, Bill, you walk lame.  What's the matter, got
rheumatiz?"

"It's all on account of Bob."

"What did he do?"

"Came here for some lard.  When I was down cellar gittin' it he tied
a string to the molasses barrel spigot and stretched it across the
doorway."

"What, the spigot?"

"No, the string.  Ye know what I mean.  Then he went out on the
stoop an' yelled like sin.  I thought somebody was killed an' I run
out.  I tripped over the string an' it pulled the spigot open.  I
barked my shins, an' when I looked in the store, after seein'
nobody was hurt, the molasses was runnin' all over.  Oh, wait till
I git hold of that pesky boy!"

"I s'pose if you hadn't been so curious to see who was killed it
wouldn't have happened," observed Adiran Meelik.

"Curious!  Ain't I got a right to run an' see who's killed in front
of my store?"

"I s'pose so.  But there wasn't anybody killed; only you came near
being."

"That's so.  I'll bring an action against Bob Henderson's father
for damages for personal injuries, that's what I'll do.  Then
there's the wasted molasses."

"That boy plays too many tricks," observed Mr. Meelik as he took
the brown sugar he had come in to purchase and walked out.
"Altogether too many tricks.  Still," he added with a smile, "I
would like to have seen Bill stumble and watched his face when he
seen that molasses runnin' to waste."

The storekeeper lost no time in putting his plan into action.  But
as he was a cautious man, and did not want to waste money hiring a
lawyer to bring suit if he could collect damages without doing so,
he decided to call on Mr. Henderson himself.

A short time after Mr. Hodge had succeeded in cleaning up as much
of the molasses as possible his wife came in to relieve him of
tending the store, as was her custom.  She had had an early supper,
and was to remain in the place until Mr. Hodge had also satisfied
his appetite.  By this arrangement there was no need of hiring a
clerk.  They lived in some rooms over the store.

"Your supper's ready, William," she said.

"I guess supper'll have to wait to-night."

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm goin' to see if I can't collect damages from Enos
Henderson fer what his son done."

"What's that?"

Mr. Hodge explained, and his wife agreed with him that it would be
wise first to try what a personal demand would do.

It was about six o'clock when Mr. Hodge reached the Henderson home.
Mr. Henderson stopped work at five, and he was at supper when the
storekeeper entered.  Bob knew the object of the visit, and, making
an excuse that he wanted to see one of his boy chums, was about to
leave the table.

"My business is with him, too," said Mr. Hodge in rather surly
tones.

"With Bob?" asked Mr.  Henderson, and his heart sank.  He realized
that his son must have been up to some prank in which the
storekeeper was involved, for Mr. Hodge was not a person to pay
friendly calls.

"Yes.  I've come t' see if ye'll settle my claim fer damages
without a lawsuit."

"A lawsuit?" inquired Mr. Henderson, now becoming quite alarmed,
while Bob's mother grew pale.  Bob himself, not a little frightened
as the result of his joke, sank down in a chair.

"I want damages fer personal injuries, as well as fer five gallons
of molasses that run to waste."

"It couldn't have been more than three gallons," interrupted Bob.
"Molasses runs awful slow, and the spigot wasn't open more than
three minutes."

"It runs fast in hot weather," observed the storekeeper.

"What is it all about?" asked Mr. Henderson.

Then Mr. Hodge explained, dwelling on the pain he had suffered as a
result of the fall from the string that tripped him and on the loss
of the molasses.

"I want ten dollars damage," he concluded.  "A dollar fer the
molasses an' the rest fer personal injuries."

"I am afraid I cannot afford to pay so much," said Mr. Henderson,
who, while he made good wages, was trying to save up enough to pay
for his home.

"Then I'll sue ye."

"I would not like you to do that, but I cannot afford to pay ten
dollars--at least not now.  I have some interest to meet this week."

"Well, maybe I might take a little less," said Mr. Hodge, as he saw
a prospect of Bob's father coming to a settlement.  "I'll make it
eight dollars, an' ye can pay me in installments."

"I suppose that will be fair," admitted Mr. Henderson.  He spoke
very quietly, but he was much exercised over what had happened.

"Can ye pay me anythin' now?" asked Mr. Hodge eagerly, rubbing his
shins, which, to tell the truth, were only slightly bruised and did
not hurt him in the least now.

"I could give you two dollars.  But first I want to ask Bob if he
is responsible for this."

To his sorrow Mr. Henderson did not have much doubt of it.

"Oh, I guess he won't deny it," said the storekeeper.

"Did you do this, Bob?" inquired his father.

"I--I guess so, but I didn't mean anything."

Bob was not so happy over his prank as he had been at first.

Mr. Henderson said nothing.  He took two dollars from his wallet--a
wallet that did not have any too much money in it--and handed the
bills to the storekeeper, who eagerly pocketed them.

"When kin ye give me some more?" he asked.

"Next week.  I am sorry, Mr. Hodge, that my son did this."

"So am I.  But I s'pose boys will be boys."

Mr. Hodge seemed in better mood.  The truth was, he had not
expected to receive any money, and as he was a sort of miser, it
made him feel better to think he was going to get damages without
having to pay a lawyer.  In reality, not more than fifty cents'
worth of molasses had run to waste.

When the storekeeper had left Mr. Henderson further questioned Bob,
getting all the particulars of the trick.

"I'm sorry, dad," said Bob when he had finished his recital.

"That is what you say every time, my son.  You said it after you
frightened Mrs. Anderson's cow and they had to have the
veterinarian for the animal, but that did not pay his bill.  I had
to settle for it."

"I know, dad.  I'll not do it again."

"And that's another thing you always say, Bob.  Now this is getting
serious.  You must mend your ways.  This will be quite a heavy
expense to me.  I was going to spend that two dollars for a new
pair of shoes.  Now I will have to wait."

"I'm sorry, dad."

"But that doesn't give me my shoes."

Mr. Henderson spoke gravely, and Bob felt quite badly over what he
had done, for he loved his father and mother very much, and would
not intentionally pain them.  The trouble was he was, like many
other boys, thoughtless.  He did not count the consequences when
indulging in pranks.

A little later, after giving his son quite a severe lecture, and
obtaining his promise to be better in the future, Mr. Henderson
prepared to go to bed.  Bob also retired to his room, for he felt
in no mood to go out with the village boys that night.

"I'm sure I don't know what to do with Bob," said Mrs. Henderson to
her husband when she was locking up the house.  "I'm afraid he'll
get into serious trouble."

"I hope not.  I think I must punish him severely the next time he
plays any tricks."

"He is too big to whip."

"I know it.  I must think of some other method."

Bob fell asleep, resolving to mend his ways, or at least to play in
the future only harmless tricks to which no one would object.  But
in the morning his good resolutions had lost some of their power,
like many others made during the night.

That day in school Bob snapped several of the paper crackers, and
in consequence was kept in.  However, his mother was visiting a
neighbor, and when he came home late that afternoon she did not see
him.

That evening Ted Neefus called for Bob.  They were chums of long
standing.

"Let's take a walk," suggested Ted.

"Aw, that's no fun."

"What'll we do then?"

Bob thought a few seconds.

"I'll tell you," he said.  "We'll put a tic-tac on Mrs. Mooney's
window.  She lives all alone, and she'll think it's a ghost
rapping."

"Good!  Come on.  Have you got some string?"

"Sure."

So you see how poorly Bob remembered his promise of the night
before, and with what thoughtlessness he again started to indulge
in a prank--a prank which might throw a nervous woman into
hysterics.  Yet in this Bob was just like thousands of other
boys--he "didn't mean anything."  The trouble was he did not think.

So the two boys, their heads full of the project of making a
tic-tac, stole quietly through the village streets toward the
cottage of the Widow Mooney.

A STRANGE PROPOSITION

Perhaps some of my readers may not know what the contrivance known
as a "tic-tac" is like.  Those of you who have made them, of
course, do not need to be told.  If you ever put them on any
person's window, I hope you selected a house where there were only
boys and girls or young people to be startled by the tic-tac.  It
is no joke, though at first it may seem like one, to scare an old
person with the affair.  So if any boy or girl makes a tic-tac
after the description given here, I trust he or she will be careful
on whom the prank is played.

To make a tic-tac a long string, a pin and a small nail are all
that is required.  A short piece of string is broken from the
larger piece, and to one end of this latter the pin is fastened by
being thrust through a knot.

To the other end or the short cord is attached the nail.  Then the
long string is tied to the short string a little distance above the
nail.

With this contrivance all made ready Bob and Ted sneaked up under
the front window of the widow's house.  It was the work of but a
moment for Bob to stick the point of the pin in the wooden part of
the window-frame so that the nail dangled against the glass.  Then,
holding the free end of the long string, he and Ted withdrew to the
shadow of some lilac bushes.

"All ready?" asked Ted.

"Sure.  Here she goes!"

Bob then gently jerked the string.  This swung the nail to and fro,
and it tapped on the window-pane as if some one was throwing
pebbles against the glass.  This was kept up for several seconds.

The widow, who was reading in the dining-room, heard the tapping at
the glass.  It startled her at first, and then, thinking some one
might be at the door, she conquered her nervousness and opened the
portal.  Of course she saw no one, and the string was not observed.
Neither were the boys, hidden in the bushes.

"We fooled her," chuckled Ted, for they could see all that happened.

"Sure we did," added Bob.  "Wait till she goes in and we'll do it
some more."

Somewhat puzzled, the Widow Mooney closed the door.  No sooner was
she back in the dining-room than the tapping at the pane was
resumed.  This time it was louder.  The widow, who was quite timid
and nervous, felt frightened.  She had years before believed in
spirits, and she had not altogether gotten over this.

Once more she went to the door, the boys observing her from their
hiding-place.  They were so delighted with their prank, which they
thought a fine "joke," that they laughed heartily, having to hold
their hands over their mouths so as not to betray themselves.

"She don't know what it is," whispered Ted.

"Maybe she thinks it's night-hawks pecking at the window,"
suggested Bob.

"Go ahead.  Tap some more.  She's going in."

Much puzzled by the queer noises, for no one had ever before put a
tic-tac on her window, Mrs. Mooney went back to her dining-room.
But she could not read.

"I must find out what that is," she said to herself.  "If it's
burglars, I'm going to call for help.  Suppose it should be thieves
trying to cut one of the window-panes?  I've read of such doings."

Now, the widow was less afraid of something bodily, like burglars,
than she was of "spirits," so she resolved the next time she heard
the queer tapping to run out and call for help.

In a little while Bob pulled the string again, and the dangling
nail went tap! tap! tap! against the pane.

"Here she comes!" exclaimed Ted in a whisper as the door opened.

And this time, instead of contenting herself by merely looking
about, Mrs.  Mooney came out on the porch.  Then she started down
the front walk toward the lilac bushes, though she did not know the
boys were there.

"She's comin' after us," whispered Ted.  "Come on, Bob."

Bob was aware of the danger of getting caught.  He prepared to run.

Now there is this advantage to a tic-tac.  Once you want to escape
you can take it with you by the simple process of pulling on the
long string, when the pin is jerked from the window-frame, and you
can drag the nail and all with you, thus leaving no evidence
behind.  This was what Bob did.

Quickly winding up the string as he pulled the pin and nail toward
him, he and Ted started to run, crouching down low so as not to be
seen.  But Ted, unfortunately for the success of their plan,
stumbled and fell, making so much noise that Mrs. Mooney heard it.

"Thieves! Burglars! Police!" she screamed.

"Come on!" cried Bob desperately.  "We'll be caught!"

Mrs. Mooney ran back into the house, slammed the front door, shut
and locked it.  She believed she had surprised thieves at work, for
she saw two dim forms running toward the street.

"Leg it!" whispered Bob.

"I am," replied Ted.

They reached the gate together, but that was as far as they got,
for just as they arrived at it they collided with a large man who
was running toward the house.  He was so large that the combined
impact of Bob and Ted against him never staggered him, but it
almost threw them off their feet.  They were running, head down,
and had not seen him.

"Hold hard there, my hearties!" exclaimed the man in a gruff but
not unpleasant voice.  "What are you trying to cross my bows for in
this fashion?  That's no way to run, not showing a masthead light
or even blowing a whistle.  Avast and belay!  You might have sunk
me if I didn't happen to be a heavier craft than you."

As the man spoke he instinctively grasped the two boys, preventing
them from continuing their flight.

"What's the trouble?" he went on.  "I heard a female
crying--sounding a distress signal like.  Where are the burglars?
Are you going for the police?"

"No, sir.   It was us, playing tic-tac," explained Bob, thinking it
best to make a clean breast of the affair.

"Tic-tac, eh?  I haven't heard that since I was a boy.  On whose
window?"

"The Widow Mooney's, sir."

"And it was the widow, I presume, who was signaling for aid.  Well,
I'll stand by and see what's wanted.  You'd better come back also."

"Aw, we don't want to," spoke Ted.

"No, I suppose not.  Still you're coming."

The man had both boys firmly by their arms, and he turned in the
gateway with them.  As he did so, Mrs.  Mooney, hearing voices,
ventured to open her door.   The light streamed out and showed the
face of the man.  At the sight of it Bob uttered an exclamation.

"Why, it's Captain Spark!" he cried.

"That's what.  You read my signals right, my lad, and if I'm not
mistaken, you're Bob Henderson."

"Yes, sir."

Captain Jeremiah Spark was an old seafaring man.  He was a distant
relative of Bob's mother, and, in fact, he was on his way to call
on her, having just returned from a long voyage, when he ran into
the boys, or, rather, they collided with him.

"So you're playing tricks on a poor, lone widow woman, are you?"
asked the captain in no very pleasant tones.

"We--we didn't mean any harm," said Bob.

"No, I suppose not.  Boys never do, but the harm comes.  Now I'm
going to march you two lads right up before the mast; and you're
going to apologize to the widow.  If you don't, why, I reckon a
cat-o'-nine-tails will fit the case pretty well."

Mrs. Mooney was standing in her door as the captain led the two
boys up to her.

"Here's the burglars you were shouting about, ma'am," he said.
"One of 'em a relative of mine, I'm sorry to say.    They've come
to beg your pardon.  Go ahead, boys."

"I'm sorry about the tic-tac," said Bob in a low voice.

"We didn't mean nothin'," added Ted.

"Was it you boys?" asked the widow.  "I was so frightened.  I
thought burglars were trying to cut out a pane of glass."

"I don't believe they'll do it again," remarked Captain Spark.
"Will you, boys?"

"No, sir," they chorused.

"That's right.  Now come on, Bob.  I'm going to your house."

The captain was warmly welcomed by Mr. and Mrs. Henderson a little
later.  Bob was wondering whether the captain would say anything
about the recent prank, but the old seaman said nothing, though his
eyes twinkled when, in response to a question from Mr. Henderson as
to where the captain had met Bob, the former replied that there had
been a collision in the dark.

That night, after Bob had gone to bed, Mrs. Henderson had a talk
with her relative.

"I don't know what to do with Bob," she said.  "He is always
getting into mischief.  He is not a bad boy at heart, but he is
thoughtless."

"Yes, that he is," agreed Captain Spark.

"I am almost sure he was up to some prank tonight," went on Bob's
mother.  "I shall probably hear about it in the morning, when some
of the neighbors call to make a complaint.  Oh, dear, I wish I knew
what to do!"

"I'll tell you what," suddenly exclaimed the captain, banging his
fist down on the table with emphasis.  "Let me take him to sea with
me aboard the Eagle."

"Take him to sea?  Take Bob on a voyage?" asked Mrs. Henderson.

"That's it!  You let me take him, and I'll guarantee I'll make a
man of him.  The land is no place for a boy, anyhow.  He needs a
bit of ocean travel to broaden his views."

"That is a strange proposition," said Mr. Henderson.  "We must
think it over."

CHAPTER IV

TALKING IT OVER

Captain Spark was invited to spend a week or more at the Henderson
home.  He was up bright and early the next morning--in fact, before
any one else, and Bob, hearing some one moving around downstairs,
and knowing his father and mother were not in the habit of having
such an early breakfast, descended to see who it was.

"Good-morning, my lad," greeted the mariner.  "I suppose you are
going to take the morning watch and holystone the decks.  Nothing
like being active when you're young.  It will keep you from getting
old."

"Yes, sir," replied Bob, for he did not know what else to say.

"Haven't got any more tic-tacs, have you?" and there was a twinkle
in the captain's eyes.

"No, sir."

"That's right.  If you've got to play tricks, do it on somebody your
size.  Then it's fair.  Don't scare lone widows."

"I won't do it again," promised Bob, who felt a little ashamed of
his prank of the previous night.

Soon Mrs. Henderson came downstairs to get breakfast, and when the
meal was over Bob got ready for school, Mr. Henderson leaving for
his work in the woolen mill.

When Bob was safely out of the way Captain Spark once more brought
up before Mrs. Henderson the proposition he had made the night
before.

"Well, Lucy," he said, for he called Mrs. Henderson by her first
name, "have you thought over what I said about taking Bob to sea?"

"Yes, I have."

"And what do you think of it?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, I don't like the idea."

"Why not?  I'm sure it would be good for him."

"It might.  I'm sure you mean it well, but I couldn't bear to have
him go."

"It will make a man of him--cure him of some of his foolish ways,
I'm sure."

"Perhaps it would.  Bob is very wild, I know, but I think I have
more influence over him than any one else.  He will do anything for
me, or for his father, either, for that matter.  I am afraid if Bob
got away from our influence he would be worse than he is now."

"Oh, we have a few good influences aboard the Eagle," said the
captain with a grim smile.  "Only we don't call 'em influences.  We
call 'em ropes' ends, or cat-o'-nine-tails, or a belaying-pin.  I've
known a limber rope's end, applied in the right place, do more good
to a boy than lots of medicine."

"Oh, but, captain, I couldn't have Bob beaten!"

"No, of course not, I was only joking.  Not that it doesn't do a boy
good, though, once in a while, to have a good tanning.  But I don't
recommend it for a steady diet."

"Bob's father has never whipped him since he was a small lad," went
on Mrs. Henderson.  "Not that he doesn't seem to deserve it
sometimes even now, but Mr. Henderson believes in talking to him and
showing him how wrong he has acted."

"Yes, talk is good," admitted the mariner, "but if there's a rope's
end handy, it sometimes makes the talk a little more effective--just
a little bit."

"I suppose life aboard a sailing ship is very hard now-a-days,"
ventured Mrs. Henderson.  Somehow she dwelt on the plan of having
the captain take Bob, though she felt she could not consent to it.

"No harder than it ever was.  In fact, it's easier than when I was a
boy and ran away to sea.  Those were hard days, and I've never
forgot 'em.  That's why I try to treat all my sailors and cabin boys
as if they were human beings.  Now you'd better think my plan over.
It would do Bob a world of good to go to sea.  You'd hardly know him
when he got back."

"Oh, I don't know what to do," said Bob's mother.  "No, I don't
think I can consent.  He might be drowned, and I would never forgive
myself.  I don't believe his father would consent either."

"Well, think it over," advised the captain.  "I'm going to be in
this port for some time.  We're loading for a trip around Cape Horn,
and it will take two weeks or more to get in shape.  There's time
enough to decide between now and then."

"I don't believe I could ever consent," declared Mrs. Henderson.  "I
think Bob will settle down pretty soon and give up playing pranks."

"I don't," said the captain to himself.  "That boy is too full of
mischief.  He needs a sea voyage to soak some of it out of him.  But
that's the way with mothers.  Well, I'll wait a while.  I think
something may happen to make her change her mind before I sail."

The captain did not know what a good prophet he was.

When Bob came home from school that noon-time he was surprised to
see his mother and Captain Spark in earnest conversation.  At first
Bob thought the mariner might be telling of the escapade of the
tic-tac, but when his mother made a warning gesture of silence to
Captain Spark on beholding Bob the boy was puzzled.

"They must have been talking about me," he decided; "but what could
it be?  I don't think he would tell about the tic-tac, but there's
certainly something queer afoot."

The truth was that the captain was renewing his plan of taking Bob
to sea.  Had the boy known of it he would have been much surprised,
for he never dreamed of such a thing.

"How did you get along at school to-day?" asked Captain Spark, as
Mrs. Henderson went out to get dinner.

"Pretty well."

"Didn't put any bent pins in the teacher's chair, did you?"

"No, sir."

The boy hoped the captain would not ask him what other prank he had
been up to, for the truth was that Bob had that morning taken a live
mouse to the classroom, releasing it during a study period, and
nearly sending the woman teacher and the girl pupils into hysterics.
His part had not been discovered, but the teacher had threatened to
keep the whole class of boys in that night until the guilty one
confessed, and Bob knew he would have to tell sooner or later, if
some of his companions did not "squeal" on him, in order that they
might be released from suspicion.

"That's right," went on the mariner.  "Never put bent pins in the
teacher's chair."

As Bob feared, some one during the afternoon session told of his
part in the mouse episode, and he was the only one kept in.  The
teacher made him stay while she corrected a lot of examination
papers, and in the silent schoolroom the boy began to wish he had
not been so fond of a "joke."

The teacher, who was a kind-hearted woman, talked seriously to her
rather wild pupil, pointing out that it was a cowardly thing for a
boy to frighten girls.  Bob had never looked at it in just that
light, and he was pretty well ashamed of himself when he was allowed
to go home, with an admonition that he must mend his ways or be
liable to expulsion.

"I'll bet he's been up to some mischief, Lucy," said Captain Spark
when Bob came home quite late that afternoon.

"Perhaps he has.  I hope it was nothing serious."

"Shall I ask him what it was?"

"No, we'll find it out sooner or later, and I don't want his father
to worry more than he has to.  He has hard work at the mill, and I
like his evenings to be as free from care as possible."

"That's just like a woman," growled the mariner to himself.  "They
take more than their share of the burdens that the men and boys
ought to bear.  But never mind.  I'll get Bob yet, and when I do
I'll make a man of him or know the reason why.  He'll find it much
different on board ship from what he has it here in this quiet
little village."

Bob was all unconscious of what fate had in store for him.

CHAPTER V

A JOKE THAT WENT WRONG

For several days after the prank with the mouse Bob did not play any
jokes.  The teacher ascribed that fact to the lecture she had given
him.  Bob's mother, who also noticed that he was much more quiet
than usual, feared he was going to be sick.

"I never knew him to be so subdued," she thought.  "I think I must
give him some sulphur and molasses.  Perhaps he is getting some
disease."

She mentioned it to the captain.

"Nonsense," said the mariner.  "He's hatching up some trick, that's
what he's doing.  You want to look out."

"Oh, captain, I don't think so!"

"Well, I do.  Now you mark my words.  It's down on the chart that
Bob is up to some mischief.  He's hauled down his colors for a
while, but that's only to fool the enemy.  First thing you know
he'll hoist the Jolly Roger, and then there'll be some queer doings
in these waters."

"Hoist the Jolly Roger?"

"I mean turn pirate, so to speak.  You keep your eye on that boy,
Lucy.  Something's going to break loose or I'm a Dutchman."

Bob's father thought his son's subdued behavior on the few days
following the captain's arrival was due to a hint Bob had obtained,
that, unless he mended his ways, he might be sent on a long voyage
to work his passage.

Now the truth was that Bob was merely waiting for a good chance to
play a trick.  He was not particular what sort of a trick it was so
long as it created a laugh.  The consequences never gave him a
thought or worry.

So, as he could think of nothing sufficiently "funny" to do, he
remained quiet.  But all the while he was looking about to see if he
and his boon companion, Ted Neefus, could not perpetrate some prank
that would be "worth while."

"Things are awful slow," complained Ted one afternoon as he and Bob
walked home from school.

"That's right," agreed Bob.  "But wait.  I've got a plan."

"What is it?"

Bob looked carefully up and down the street.  Then he glanced behind
him.  Next he drew Ted into some bushes that lined the thoroughfare
on which they were walking.

"You know what's going to happen Friday night, don't you?" Bob asked.

"No; what?"

"The annual donation party for the minister."

"Well, what of it?"

"I'm going."

"That's nothing.  Don't you generally go?  So do I, though I don't
see much fun in it.  Ma makes me.  She says it saves gittin' a meal
at home, but I don't like the stuff they have there."

"I don't either--not much--but I'm going this time and so are you.
Because, listen, something's going to happen."

"Honest?"

Bob nodded vigorously several times.  There was a bright twinkle in
his eyes.

"Don't say a word to anybody," he cautioned Ted, "but just you be on
hand.  This is going to be the best joke yet."

"Maybe he'll get mad."

"What if he does?  He won't know who did it.  You and I will be up
in the gallery, or somewhere, and no one will see us.  I'll bet
there'll be some fun."

The chief trouble was, as I have pointed out before, that Bob's
ideas of fun and those of other persons did not always agree.  Boys
and older folks seldom think the same on any subject, and so how can
they be expected to about "jokes"?

The minister's donation party was an annual affair in Moreville.
Rev. Daniel Blackton, who had charge of the only church in the
village, did not receive a very large salary, and it was the custom
to give him a "donation party" once a year to help pay him.

This usually took the form of a supper, held in the church parlors.
The women of the congregation provided the food, and a small price
was charged for the meal.  Nearly every one, including the "men
folks" and the children, attended, and sometimes quite a fair sum
was realized in this way.

In addition, every one who could afford to was expected to bring
some "donation" for the minister.  The women would knit him mittens,
or slippers, or socks, they would crochet articles for the
minister's wife, or bring jars of preserves, which were very welcome
at the parsonage.

The men would donate wood, garden products, or whatever they could
best afford.  In this way, while the reverend gentleman's salary was
not large, he managed to obtain a comfortable living.

It was to this donation party, or supper, that Bob and Ted were
going, and as they crouched in the shadow of the bushes they
perfected Bob's plan for some fun.

Mrs. Henderson was usually on the committee of arrangements for the
supper, and this occasion was no exception.  For a week before she
was busy making pies and cakes and getting great pans of baked beans
ready, for the supper victuals were of a plain but very wholesome
sort.

As Captain Spark was a guest at the Henderson home at the time the
supper was to be held, he, of course, was invited to attend, an
invitation he quickly accepted, for he was fond of hearty eating,
and he was not ashore often enough so that such affairs as donation
suppers were distasteful to him, as they are to some persons.

At last the eventful evening came.  Bob, dressed in his best suit,
prepared to accompany his parents and Captain Spark to the church.

Such a thing as their son attempting a joke at the donation supper
never occurred to Mr. or Mrs. Henderson.  It is true that at the
affair there was more or less jollity and good-natured fun after the
formal function of supper was over and the minister had asked the
blessing.  But no one had ever dared play such a joke as Bob
contemplated.  If his mother had in the least suspected him of even
dreaming of it she would have made him stay at home.

There was a good-sized throng in the church when the Henderson party
arrived.  Long tables had been set in the parlors, which were back
of the church proper.  Women in long white aprons were hurrying to
and fro, getting ready to serve the meal.  Bob followed his parents
and the captain into the edifice.

"Is everything all ready?" asked Ted Neefus in a whisper as he
approached Bob.

"Don't come near me," was the cautious answer.  "Folks'll suspect if
they see us together."

So Ted quickly glided away and was lost in the crowd.

The tables were all set, the victuals put on, and nearly every one
had arrived.

"I guess we'd better get the chairs up now," proposed Mrs. Olney,
who with Mrs. Henderson was superintending things.  "Some of the
boys can do it."

"I will, mom," volunteered Bob, who stood near his mother.  "I'll
get some of the fellows to help me."

"That's good," said Mrs.  Henderson.

Bob hurried away, and soon he, Ted Neefus, Will Merton, Sam Shoop
and some other chums were placing the chairs at the long tables.

"Is it all ready?" asked Ted in a hoarse whisper.

"Hush, can't you!" cautioned Bob.  "Do you want to give it away?"

All was in readiness for the grown folks to sit down.  They would
eat first, then the tables would be set anew and the young people
would have their turn.  There was always more fun at the second
table, and Bob and his chums would take their meals there.

Some one told Rev. Daniel Blackton that supper was ready, and he
moved up to the head of the table, prepared to say grace.  In honor
of Mrs. Henderson, who was one of the chief workers in the church,
her relative, Captain Spark, had been accorded a place next to the
minister.

"Come on up in the gallery now," said Bob to Ted.  "We can see the
fun from there."  Bob had been busy straightening the chairs near
the head of the table.

Just as the boys reached the gallery, the assembled diners took
their seats.  The reverend gentleman stood up to say grace, and then
sat down.

"How long before it works?" asked Ted.

"It's working now," replied Bob, "but you won't see the full effect
until he gets up."

"Think he'll make much of a fuss?"

"Naw.  He's too good-natured.  He'll only laugh."

The meal progressed.  To and fro went the women with big plates of
food.  Every one seemed to have a good appetite, and some young
people, who were hungry, began to think the grown folks would never
get done.

But at last there was a general scraping of chairs as they were
pushed back.

"Watch now!" called Bob to several of his cronies who were with him
in the gallery that overlooked the room where supper was being
served.  "He's getting up."

In fact nearly every one was leaving the table.  The tall form of
Rev. Daniel Blackton was seen to rise.  Something else arose also.
It was the minister's chair.  He felt that something was wrong, and
half turned around.  What he saw caused a deep flush to spread over
his pale face.

His chair was glued fast to him, and wherever he moved the chair
went too!

"Oh!" exclaimed Bob in a hoarse and horrified whisper.  "I put the
stuff on the wrong chair! I wanted Captain Spark to stick fast, and
I put it on the minister's chair by mistake!"

By this time the dominie was endeavoring to pull the chair loose
from the seat of his trousers.  But the glue Bob had spread was very
sticky.  Pull and tug as he did, the minister could not free himself.

First there was a murmur, then some one laughed.  In a moment the
whole room was in an uproar.

"You'll catch it!" prophesied Ted, in an awestruck whisper.

"I won't unless some of you squeal on me," declared Bob.

He looked over the balcony railing at the struggling minister, who
was trying in vain to get free from the chair.

"Nobody'll squeal," declared Will Merton.

"Of course not," added Sam Shoop.

CHAPTER VI

MRS. HENDERSON'S DECISION

The minister, very much embarrassed, was doing his best to get rid
of the chair.  It was hard work, for if he turned around to one side
to grasp it, the chair, naturally, swung away from him.  It was
several seconds before any one thought to aid him.  Then Captain
Spark came to his relief.

"Guess I'll have to give you a hand, dominie," he said.  "You're
anchored pretty hard and fast on a shoal, and you'll need help to
break loose.  How did it happen?  Did you sit down on an egg?"

"Some one put glue in the chair.  I did not notice it until I tried
to get up."

"Glue, eh?"

The captain's eyes had a queer look in them.

"Yes.  I suppose some of the boys did it for a joke."

"Pretty poor sort of a joke," remarked Mrs. Olney.  "I could almost
put my hand on the boy that did it, too."

She looked to see if Mrs. Henderson had heard her, but Bob's mother
was on the other side of the room and was not fully aware of what
had happened.

Captain Spark tried to pull the chair loose from the minister, but
the glue had taken a firm hold, and the only result of his efforts
was to drag the reverend gentleman about the room.

[Illustration: "Captain Spark tried to pull the chair loose."]

All this while the people were trying hard not to laugh.  But it was
impossible.  Men were chuckling and endeavoring to suppress their
mirth, and nearly all the women were red in the face from holding in
their laughter.

"Guess you'd better sit down, dominie," advised the captain.

"If I do, I'll stick faster than before."

"Well, if you do I'll put my feet on the rounds of the chair and
hold it down while you get up.  Maybe you can pull loose."

"I'm afraid," said Rev. Mr. Blackton.

"Afraid of what?"

"I might tear my trousers, and," he added in a whisper to the
captain, "they're the best pair I have."

"Might as well be killed for a sheep as a goat," replied the
mariner.  "They're spoiled anyhow, by this glue.  Better try to pull
loose.  Go on.  I'll hold your chair down."

Thus advised, the minister sat down.  The crowd watched with
anxiety, not unmixed with mirth.  Even the clergyman himself could
not help smiling, though it was quite an embarrassing position for a
dignified gentleman.

"Would you mind putting your feet on the rounds on the other side?"
asked the captain of Mr. Henderson.  "Between us both I guess we can
hold him down."

The two men bore heavily on the chair-rounds, and Mr. Blackton
strained to rise.  There was a pulling, ripping sound, and he
hesitated.  Then, feeling that he must get loose no matter what
happened, he gave a mighty tug and was free.  But his trousers,
though only slightly torn, were covered with glue.

Now that it was over, and the excitement was beginning to cool down,
the minister began to feel a little natural anger at the perpetrator
of the "Joke."  His best trousers were spoiled, and the donation
supper had been thrown into confusion.

"Who did it?" was the question asked on every side.

The boys came slowly down from the gallery and mingled unnoticed
with the throng.  Bob was a little worried.  He had not meant to
humiliate the minister, but had counted on Captain Spark getting
stuck to the chair.  The captain, he knew, would make light of the
prank.  But it was no small matter to have done this thing to the
clergyman.

"Going to supper?" asked Ted of Bob.

"No.  I don't feel like eating.  Guess I'll go home."

But Bob's plan was frustrated.  His mother, who had been looking for
her son, caught sight of him.

"Oh, Bob!" she exclaimed.  "I hope none of the boys that you go with
played that horrid trick on the minister!  It was a very mean thing
to do!  But you had better have your supper.  The table will soon be
ready again."

Bob did not have much appetite.  He was afraid of being discovered.

The chair, with the glue on it, had been taken to the cellar, and
the minister had gone home to change his trousers.  Captain Spark,
who had begun to turn certain things over in his mind, approached
Bob.  He had a sharp eye, had the mariner, and, in looking closely
at his relative's son, he saw a bit of evidence that Bob had not
counted on.  This was nothing more nor less than a big spot of glue
on the lad's coat sleeve.

"What's this?" asked the seaman, pointing to the sticky place.

"I don't know.  Glue--I guess," replied Bob, turning pale.

"Glue, eh?  Seems to be about as sticky as that on the minister's
chair."

At the mention of glue several persons about Bob and the captain
looked curiously at them.  Mrs. Henderson, who was just then
passing, carrying a big platter of baked beans, stopped to listen to
what the seaman was saying.

"Yes, it's glue," remarked the mariner.  "Just like that on the
chair.  Bob," he asked suddenly, "did you put that glue there?"

Now, with all his faults, Bob would never tell a lie.  He regarded
that as cowardly, and he was always willing to take whatever
punishment was coming to him for his "jokes."

"Yes, captain," he said in a low voice.  "I did it."

"Ha! I thought so."

"Bob Henderson!" exclaimed his mother, her face flushing red with
mortification.  "Did you play that horrid joke on the minister?"

"Yes, but I didn't mean to."

"You didn't mean to?"

"No.  I thought some one else was going to sit on that chair."

"You thought some one else was? Why, that's just as bad--almost.
Who did you think would sit there?"

"Captain Spark!"

"You young rascal!" exclaimed the commander of the _Eagle_, but he
did not seem very angry.  "So that was intended to anchor me down,
eh?  Well, I must look into this."

"I thought you'd sit there," went on Bob.

"So I was going to, but the minister made me change, as he's a
little deaf on one side, and he wanted to ask me some questions
about the Fiji Islanders."

There was now quite a crowd around Bob, his mother, and the captain.
Mrs. Henderson did not know what to do.  Up to now Bob's pranks had
been bad enough, but to play this trick on the minister, and at the
annual donation supper, where nearly every person in the village was
present, was the climax.  She felt that she had been much humiliated.

Bob's father heard what had happened, and came up to his son.

"Bob," he said, in a curiously quiet voice, "you must go home at
once.  I shall have to punish you severely for this."

Bob knew what that meant.  He wished, most heartily, that he had not
played this last prank.  But it was too late now.

"I told you I thought he was up to something," whispered the captain
to Mrs. Henderson.

"Yes, you were right," she admitted.  "Now my mind is made up.
Captain, I wish you would take him to sea with you at once!  I can
stand his foolishness no longer!"

Bob was out of the room by this time and did not hear his mother's
decision.

"Do you mean that, Lucy?" asked Captain Spark eagerly.

"Yes, I do.  I am determined.  Bob shall go to sea.  Perhaps it will
teach him a lesson, and he will mend his ways."

"It will be the making of him," declared the captain heartily.  "I'm
glad you decided this.  I'll make arrangements at once."

CHAPTER VII

BOB IS DELIGHTED

The excitement caused by Bob's prank had somewhat quieted down, and
the preparations went on for giving the young people their supper.
Several of Bob's chums, however, fearful that they might be
suspected of having taken part in the trick, left the church.

As a matter of fact, though, Bob alone was concerned.  He had
thought of the trick, procured a bottle of liquid glue from the drug
store, and, watching his chance, had poured it on the chair.  Then
he had told his chums of it, and they had withdrawn with him to the
gallery to watch events, which came quickly enough.

At the supper-table of the young people, little was talked of but
Bob's prank, and opinion was pretty evenly divided as to what would
happen.

"Maybe the minister will have him arrested," suggested one girl.

"Oh, I don't think so," was the opinion of another.  "Mr. Blackton
is a kind-hearted man, and he likes Bob."

"But I don't believe he'll like him after tonight."

"Maybe not.  It was a mean thing to do, but I couldn't help laughing
when the minister stood up and the chair went with him, swinging
around every time he moved, the legs hitting everybody."

"Yes, it was odd.  I had to laugh, too."

The girls and several of their companions indulged in merriment at
the recollection.  The minister soon returned to the church parlors,
wearing a different pair of trousers, and he seemed to have regained
his good humor.

"Who was the boy who wanted me to remain seated all the evening, and
perhaps longer?" he asked.

"It was Bob Henderson," volunteered several.

"Yes, Mr. Blackton," said Mrs.  Henderson.  "I am sorry to have to
admit that it was my son who played that prank.  But he is going to
be punished for it.  His father has sent him home and has followed
after him."

"I hope he will not punish Bob too severely.  It was a boyish prank,
due more to thoughtlessness than to malice."

"I suppose it was, but Bob plays altogether too many such pranks.  I
think this will be the last."

"Well, tell Bob I forgive him, though my trousers are ruined."

"Mr. Henderson will arrange with you about that."

"What--er--what chastisement does he contemplate administering to
Bob?" asked the minister.  He and Mrs. Henderson were conversing off
to one side, in a corner of the room.  "I hope he will not whip him.
Bob is too big a boy to be whipped."

"Still, parson, you know what the Good Book says: 'Spare the rod and
spoil the child.'"

"Yes, Mrs. Henderson, I know.  Chastisement is all right in many
cases, but there are other means."

"And it is my plan to take them," went on Bob's mother.  "I have
just made arrangements with Captain Spark to take Bob with him on a
long sea voyage."

"A sea voyage?  That ought to be fine.  Yes, I think that will be
better than whipping Bob.  Tell your husband I said so."

"I shall.  Now, if you will excuse me, I must see that these young
people have plenty to eat.  They are a hungry lot."

"Indeed they are.  Don't forget to tell Bob I forgive him.  I don't
want him to worry.  Tell him, also, that he must be a little more
thoughtful."

"I will."

When Captain Spark and Mrs. Henderson went home from the donation
supper that night they discussed on the way the further plans of
sending Bob to sea.

"We must consult Mr. Henderson about it," said the captain.

"I shall, this very night.  I will put up with Bob's nonsense no
longer."

Mr. Henderson was found sitting in the dining-room, reading a paper.
He had sent Bob to bed on arriving at the house, for Mr. Henderson
was a man who did not believe in inflicting punishment in the heat
of passion.  He wanted to calm down before he decided how his son
ought to be made to realize the wrong he had done.  To tell the
truth, he was quite at a loss just what punishment to inflict.

He had thought of a sound whipping, but he realized, as had the
minister, that Bob was too old for this.  Nothing so breaks the
proud spirit of a boy as personal chastisement, after he has reached
a certain age.

And, as yet, Mr. Henderson was not aware of the proposition Captain
Spark had made to Bob's mother, and her practical acceptance of it.
Of course, Mr. Henderson had heard the first talk of sending Bob to
sea, but after his wife's refusal to consider it he had thought no
more about it.

"Well, Enos," asked Mrs. Henderson, as she and the captain entered,
"have you considered what to do with Bob?"

"I have, Lucy, but I have reached no conclusion."

"I have."

"You have?  What is it?"

"I am going to send him on a voyage with Captain Spark.  That is, if
you consent."

"I will agree to anything you think best.  But I think you will find
it hard work to get Bob to go.  I fear he will dislike the idea very
much."

"Why so?" inquired the captain.

"Well, Bob has many friends in the village--many boy-chums--and I
think he would object very strongly to leaving them, and going off
among a lot of strange men in a ship."

"I wouldn't be a stranger to him."

"No, you would not, but the others would be.  And I think he would
be somewhat afraid."

"Afraid?  What's there to be afraid of on the ocean, with a stout
deck beneath your feet?  The ocean is the safest place in the world.
I'm frightened half out of my wits every time I come on land.  There
are so many chances of accidents.  The train may run off the track,
steam-boilers may blow up, there may be an earthquake, a wild bull
may chase you, you may fall down a coal-hole and break your neck, or
a building may topple over on you while you're walking peacefully
along the street.  No such things as those can happen to you on the
ocean."

"No, perhaps not, but there are others as bad, or worse, captain."

"Nonsense!  It may blow a bit, now and then, but all you've got to
do is mind your helm and you'll come out all right."

"I am glad you think so.  I should be very glad to have Bob make a
trip with you.  I think it would do him good, but I fear he will
object to it."

"I don't think so.  We'll propose it to him in the morning."

Bob came down to breakfast feeling rather sheepish.  He had been
wondering, during the time he was not sleeping, what form of
punishment his father would inflict.

The lad had an uneasy feeling that he might have to make a public
apology before the whole church congregation.  This he felt would be
very embarrassing.  He also had an idea that his father might take
him from school and put him to work in the mill.  Mr. Henderson had
once threatened this when Bob had played some particularly annoying
prank.  And Bob liked his school very much, in spite of the tricks
he played.

"Well, my son," said Mr. Henderson, more solemnly than he usually
spoke, "I trust you have a proper feeling of regret for what you did
last night."

"Yes.  I wish I hadn't done it," said Bob.  "I didn't think it would
make so much trouble.  I didn't mean to use so much glue."

"Well, there is no use in discussing that now.  The thing is done.
You remember I told you I would have to punish you?"

"Yes, sir."

"I have talked it over with your mother and Captain Spark, and we
have made up our minds what to do.  You are going to be sent on a
long sea voyage with Captain Spark, in the _Eagle_.  You will be
away from home a long time, and, when you return, I trust you will
have mended your ways."

For a few seconds Bob did not speak.  The proposition was so sudden
to him that he did not exactly comprehend it.

"I'm to go to sea with Captain Spark?" he asked slowly.

"That is the punishment we have decided on, my son."

"Where are you going, captain?" asked Bob.

"I'm bound for 'round Cape Horn this trip.  Oh, you'll get all the
ocean you want, but it will make a man of you."

"When are you going to sail?" asked Bob in a quiet voice.

"Next week."

"Good!" exclaimed the youth suddenly.  "I'll be ready.  Oh, I always
wanted to make a sea voyage, and now I have the chance.  This is the
best ever!  Hurrah!  That's the stuff!  'A life on, the ocean wave,
a home on the bounding deep!' Avast and belay, my hearties!  Shiver
my timbers!  All hands on deck to take in sail!  There she blows!"

Bob had not read sea stories for nothing.

"That's the way to talk!" exclaimed the captain.  "I knew he'd like
the idea!"

Mr. Henderson seemed somewhat amazed.  He had expected Bob to make
strong objections.  Instead the boy was delighted.

"I am sorry to see you leave home, Bob," said his mother, with just
the hint of tears in her eyes, "but I think it will be the best
thing for you."

"So do I, mom.  Hurrah!  This is the best ever!"

Then Bob began to dance a sailor's hornpipe.

"It seems to me," said Mr. Henderson to himself, as he started for
the mill, "that Bob's punishment is more of a pleasure than anything
else.  Still, if it does him good, I'll not regret it."

CHAPTER VIII

GETTING READY

Captain Spark's ship, the _Eagle_, was a large craft, and in her he
had made many voyages.  At present the vessel was docked at a
seaport town not many miles from Moreville.

The day it was announced to Bob that he was to make a sea voyage,
the captain left the village to visit the _Eagle_ at the dock and
see how the loading of the cargo was progressing.

"I want to sail as soon as possible," he said, "and though I left a
good mate in charge, still I like to look after certain matters
myself.  I'll be back in a few days and let you know, Bob, the exact
date for sailing.  In the meanwhile you can be getting ready."

"Aye, aye, sir," answered the boy, trying, as he had read of sailors
doing, to pull a lock of his reddish hair, but finding it too short.
He had decided to adopt all the sea practices he had ever read about.

"Get your bag ready," went on the captain, "have your mother put
some needles and thread in, for you'll have to mend your own clothes
at sea, and I'll look it over when I get back."

"Aye, aye, sir."

The captain laughed at Bob's sudden enthusiasm for the sea and ship
terms, but he was not displeased.

As for Bob, he thought the time would never pass until he would find
himself aboard the _Eagle_.  That very day he began to sort over his
clothes, trying to decide which he should take, and he had such a
miscellaneous collection of garments that, when his mother saw them,
she laughed.

"Bob!" she exclaimed.  "It would take three trunks to hold them, and
I don't believe sailors are ever allowed more than one.  At least,
in all the pictures I ever saw of sailors going on board a ship they
only had a small box or bag on their shoulder, and, of course, that
must have contained all their clothes."

"I guess you're right, mother.  I'll have to sort out some of these."

"Never mind.  I'll do that.  But what in the world are you doing
with those rubber boots?"

"I was going to take them along."

"Sailors seldom wear rubber boots.  They go barefoot when it's wet
on deck." For Mrs. Henderson knew something about seafaring men,
from her long acquaintance with Captain Spark.

"Another mistake," admitted Bob, good-naturedly.  "Guess I've got
lots to learn about the ocean and ships."

"Yes indeed, Bob.  And I hope you will profit by it.  It is no place
to play pranks, either, on board a ship."

"But I've read that when the ship crosses the equator the sailors
cut up all kinds of high jinks."

"Yes, I suppose they do, but that is not very often.  I have no
doubt Captain Spark will permit fun on that occasion."

"If we go down around Cape Horn and up the west coast of North and
South America we'll cross the equator twice," went on Bob.  "We can
have fun both times."

"I'm afraid you're thinking more of the fun you are going to have
than the real reason for this voyage, Bob.  It is a punishment for
your prank on the minister."

"I know it, but, mom, I can't seem to feel that way about it."

"And I don't know as I blame you, Bob, though of course it was very
wrong to put glue on the reverend gentleman's chair."

Bob felt he must tell the news of his prospective voyage to his
chums.  Leaving his mother to sort out his clothes, he went out in
the street.  It was Saturday and there was no school.  In fact, the
term would close in another week, so Bob would miss little
instruction by taking the cruise.

The first lad Bob met was Ted Neefus.  His chum hurried up to him
and Inquired:

"Did he hurt you very much?"

"Who?"

"Your father."

"My father?  What do you mean?"

"Didn't he give you a good walloping for that joke?"

"No.  Not a bit of it.  I'm going on a sea voyage with Captain
Spark."

"Honest?"

"Cross my heart," and Bob went through a rapid motion with his hands
somewhere over the region of his stomach.

"Where to?"

"Around Cape Horn."

"No jokin'?"

"Of course not.  But that's nothing.  Captain Spark has been all
over the world."

Bob spoke as though doubling the Horn was the easiest thing a
mariner meets with.

"I wonder if he doesn't want another boy," mused Ted wistfully.

"Don't believe so."

"Wish he did.  We could have jolly times together."

"I'm going out to learn how to sail a ship, not to have fun,"
replied Bob, with an air of lofty virtue.  He had said nothing about
this voyage being a sort of discipline as punishment for his prank.
He did not think that necessary.

"When are you goin'?"

"Next week."  And then the two boys fell to discussing the trip in
all its aspects.  Soon other boys joined Bob and Ted, but the
perpetrator of the glue-joke was the center of attraction.

In fact, Bob was regarded as a sort of village hero.  There was more
interest manifested in geography at school the following week than
ever before.  Everybody knew, without telling, where Cape Horn was,
and as for the Straits of Magellan, they could have pointed them out
in the dark.

The prospect of the trip, too, had a certain effect on Bob.  His
mind was so filled with the thought of it, that he actually forgot
about planning any jokes.  Nor would he take part in any with the
other village boys.

"Let's go down past old Mary Bounder's house and throw stones at the
door.  Then she'll come out and chase us and one of us can go in and
get her pet cat and tie a can to its tail," proposed Ted the
following Monday.  Mary Bounder was a curious old woman, who lived
all alone in a cabin near the woods, and was the mark for many a
joke on the part of the boys.

"Nope," said Bob firmly.

"What's the matter? Sick?" asked Ted in surprise.

"No, but I've got to do some studying."

"Studying? Why, there's only a little more school."

"I don't mean that kind of studying.  I'm learning the different
parts of a ship, so I'll know 'em when I get to sea."

Ted had momentarily forgotten about Bob's voyage.

"That's so," he said.  "You'll be going away soon.  Say, we ought to
have some fun before you go."

"Guess I've played enough jokes for a while."

"But we ought to have one more.  Come down to Mary Bounder's.  Sam
Shoop will go.  He'll catch the cat."

"Nope.  I'm going home.  I got a new book on sea terms, and I want
to look at it."

"All right.  Then Sam and I'll go.  You'll wish you'd come.  We'll
have some fun."

But Bob could not be persuaded.  His mother and father noticed the
change in him, and they were delighted.

"I believe we made no mistake when we consented to the captain's
plan," said Mr. Henderson.

"If it will only last," added his wife.

That day a letter came from Captain Spark saying he would be
detained a few days longer and would not reach Moreville until
Wednesday.

"The ship will sail the following Saturday," he stated in his note.
"I could sail Friday, but I don't want to take any chances.  Some of
my sailors are superstitious, and I want them all to be in good
humor.  I trust Bob has not changed his mind about going."

"No indeed," said the boy, when the letter was shown to him.

That afternoon as Bob was coming back from the store, he met, on the
main street of the village, an old man who lived on the outskirts of
the town.  His name was Captain Obediah Hickson and he had once been
a sailor, though he told so many different versions of his life at
sea, that it was hard to say where truth began and fiction left off.
Still he might not have meant to deceive any one, for he was rather
simple-minded.

"What's this I hear about you going to take a long sea voyage?" he
asked of Bob.

"It's true, Captain Obed," which was what every one called the aged
man.  "I'm going around Cape Horn with Captain Spark.  We start
soon."

"Around Cape Horn, eh?  Then you'll strike the Southern Pacific."

"I expect so."

A curious change seemed to come over the old man.  He looked
carefully up and down the street to see that no one was in sight,
and then, approaching quite closely to Bob, he whispered:

"Bob, come to my house to-night."

"What for?"

"Hush!  Not so loud.  I've a great secret to disclose."

"What about?" asked Bob with a smile, thinking to humor the old
captain.

"About buried treasure.  It's on a lonely island in the Southern
Pacific Ocean.  I'm the only living man who knows where it is.  If I
wasn't so old I'd go along and help find it.  But I'm too old.  It
needs some one young and strong.  You'll dig it up for me, won't
you?"

"If I could find it," replied Bob, believing the aged man was
speaking of some delusion.

"Oh, you can find it.  I have the secret map.  I'll give it to you.
Come to my house to-night, but after dark--after dark, mind."  And,
once more looking around to see that no one had observed him,
Captain Obed shuffled on down the street.  Bob did not know what to
think.

CHAPTER IX

BOB'S LAST LAND JOKE

Returning home, Bob said nothing to his mother about what Captain
Obed had said.  The boy wanted to think more about it.  If he could
combine a treasure hunt with his sea voyage it would be a fine
thing.  Besides, why should not the old man know something of hidden
treasure?  He had sailed in many waters and been on many ships.  Bob
decided he would visit him that night.

Accordingly, when it grew dusk, he set off for the lonely house
where the old sailor lived.  It was quite a walk, but in his
eagerness Bob covered the ground in short time.  As he was passing a
clump of bushes, not far from his destination, he was surprised to
hear a voice calling sharply from the darkness:

"Avast there!"

"Who is it?" asked Bob.

"It's me," replied Captain Obed in his husky voice.  "I hid out here
to signal you so's you wouldn't be followed."

"Followed?  Who by?"

"By persons anxious to get hold of the secret map that tells of the
treasure buried on the island.  Are you all alone, Bob?"

"Of course."

"Then go ahead into my house.  I'll follow as soon as I've taken an
observation."

The boy thought the old man must be rather queer to imagine any one
would try to steal his secret, if secret he had.  Bob was half
inclined to give the whole thing up.  But he walked on, and was soon
inside the rather humble home of the retired mariner.  Presently
Captain Obed entered and quickly closed the door.

"Have to be very careful--very careful," he said in a whisper.  "If
any one knowed I had this map they'd rob me of it."

He pulled down the shades of the windows, and then carefully locking
the door he went to another room.  Bob heard him fumbling about, and
soon the old man came out with a yellowish piece of paper in his
hand.

"Feel of it," he said to Bob.

Bob did so.  It was stiff and crackly.

"Parchment--parchment," whispered Captain Obed.  "The map is drawed
on parchment--that's sheepskin instead of paper.  He wanted it to
last for years and years."

"Who did?"

Once more Captain Obed looked around to see if by chance any one had
stolen into the room.  He made Bob rather nervous.

"Captain Kidd," he answered in a lower whisper than he had yet used.
"Captain Kidd drawed that map.  It gives the real secret of his
buried treasure.  I'm the only one that knows where it is.  There's
lots of maps of Captain Kidd's treasure, but I've got the only real
one.  All them others was jest drawed so as to fool folks.  An' they
did fool 'em.  'Cause why?  'Cause nobody ain't never yet found the
captain's treasure.  But you'll find it, an' you'll bring it home to
Captain Obed, won't you, Bob?  Of course you will.  You're a good
boy, and if you bring it home safe, why, I'll give you"--he paused
and seemed to make a great effort--"yes, I'll give you a hundred
dollars, or maybe a hundred and fifty.  There!  What do you say to
that?"

"How much treasure is there?" asked Bob, hardly knowing whether to
laugh at the old man or take him seriously.

"How much?  It must be near a million dollars.  O h, there's lots of
treasure!"

It struck Bob that if there was that amount he would not be getting
much for his share.

"Now you take that map," went on Captain Obed.  "It gives the exact
location or the island, and shows where the treasure is buried on
it, right in the center of a place where four trees grow.  The
island is about eighty-two degrees west longitude and twenty-one
degrees south latitude.  It'll be easy to locate.  Just cruise about
in that locality for a few days and you'll find it.  Then dig up the
treasure."

"But suppose Captain Spark doesn't want to cruise around there?
It's his ship."

"Oh, you give him twenty-five dollars or so--out of your share, mind
you--and he'll be glad enough to do it.  Now, Bob, I rely on you.
You're the only one I ever told my secret to, and I want you to keep
it close.  Don't let 'em get that map away from you.  They'll
try--oh, they'll try dreadful hard.  I got it from my grandfather,
who had it direct from Captain Kidd himself, so I know it's correct.
Now, Bob, you'd better go.  Take good care of the map and bring me
the treasure."

He thrust the yellow, crackling piece of parchment into Bob's hands
and opened the door.

"Put it in your pocket," he cautioned as Bob went out.  "Some one
might see you."

Now Bob was quite a level-headed youth, and though he knew that
sometimes treasure might be found on islands in the ocean, where it
had been hidden by modern pirates or illegal pearl fishers, he did
not take much stock in what Captain Obed had told him.

Still he thought it would be no harm to take the parchment and show
it to Captain Spark.  That seasoned mariner would soon be able to
tell if it was worth anything.  At any rate, Bob was not going to
lie awake at night over the possibility--the very small
possibility--of securing the treasure.

"Guess I'll have to make a better bargain for my share of it before
I do much searching," he decided.

The boy said nothing to his parents about the parchment map.  He
preferred letting Captain Spark know of it first, as that seemed
fairer to the old sailor who had given it to him.  Then, as the time
was drawing nearer to the date of sailing, Bob's thoughts dwelt more
and more on his prospective trip.

"Don't you notice quite a change in Bob?" asked Mrs. Henderson of
her husband the next day.  "He seems to have settled down, and he
hasn't played a joke in a long time."

"No, he hasn't.  But you know the proverb about a new broom sweeping
clean.  Just now Bob's mind is so full of the sea that he thinks of
nothing else.  Wait a while.  If he gets away with Captain Spark
without playing some sort of a trick before he goes I'll be
agreeably disappointed."

"I think he will.  I'm so glad the captain came to pay us a visit
when he did.  It was a lucky thing for Bob."

"I think it was.  He was getting quite reckless in his pranks."

The subject of this conversation was, of course, not aware of it.
The truth was that Bob was fairly holding himself in.  He saw many
opportunities to play jokes--more, in fact, than he had ever seen
before.  It was a great temptation to indulge in pranks, but he
reflected that if he got into any more trouble he might not be
allowed to take the sea voyage.

"And I wouldn't want that to happen for the world," he said to
himself.  "Still I know a couple of dandy jokes I could play before
I go.  Maybe I might get Ted Neefus to do 'em, but I don't believe
he could do 'em as good as I can."

Bob was pondering over the rather queer fact to him that old folks
don't care half as much for jokes as boys do, when his mother asked
him to go on an errand for her.  This was to take a message to Mrs.
Dodson, who lived in a large house on a hill just outside the
village.  She was quite wealthy, and Mrs. Henderson used to do some
fine embroidering for her.

Bob, who was always ready to oblige his mother, took the package of
sewing and the note which went with it and started off.  On the way
he passed the wagon of a certain old crusty farmer he knew.  The
vehicle was in front of a house where the farmer had gone to sell
some butter and eggs.  Dangling from the back of the wagon was a
long rope, and it was a great temptation to Bob to take the rope and
tie one of the rear wheels so that it would not revolve.  The
farmer, coming out in a hurry, would not notice it, and would wonder
what was the matter when he started to drive off.

"But I guess I'd better not," thought Bob with a sigh. "He'd be sure
to tell dad, and then I'd be in more trouble.  I've got a pretty
good reputation since the donation supper, and I don't want to spoil
it."

Bob delivered the embroidery and note to Mrs. Dodson, and was on his
way back home when he saw Susan Skipper, Mrs. Dodson's hired girl,
and Dent Freeman, the hired man of the place, washing the big front
windows of the house--that is, Dent was washing them, perched upon a
step-ladder, for Susan was quite heavy and was afraid to trust
herself very high in the air.  However, she was doing her share by
handing up pails of warm water to Dent.

Now Dent and Susan, as Bob well knew, were what the country people
call "sweet" on one another.  Susan was very fond of the hired man,
and as for Dent, he thought there never had been a better cook than
Susan.  They lost no chance of talking to each other, and as the
window-cleaning operations afforded them a good opportunity, they
were taking advantage of it.

All at once a daring plan came into Bob's mind.  It seemed as if he
could not resist it, for he thought of what he considered a fine
"joke."

As he was well acquainted with the hired man and cook he walked
toward them.  Perhaps he would not have been flattered if he had
heard what they said as he approached.

"Here comes that Henderson lad," remarked Dent.  "He's allers up to
some trick.  Look out for him, Susan."

"Oh, I can look out for myself.  It's you that wants to be cautious.
He'd just like to spill your pail of water."

So they did not look with much favor on Bob's appearance.  However,
Bob, once he had set his mind on a bit of mischief, knew how to
carry it through.

"Hello, Dent," he said good-naturedly.  "Dad wants to know if you
have any more of that rheumatic medicine you made.  It fixed him up
in great shape."

This was true enough, though Mr. Henderson had not given the message
to Bob that day, having some time previously requested him to
deliver it the first chance he got.

"Sure I have some more," replied the hired man.  If he was open to
flattery on any point, it was on his skill as a maker of rheumatism
cures.  He had tried several, and had at last decided that he had
hit on one that was infallible.  He had a notion of setting up in
the drug business.  "I'll get you a bottle if you wait a while,
Bob," he said.

"I'll wait."

This was not very welcome news to Susan.  She wanted to have a
private conversation with Dent, and she could not while Bob was
present.  But the boy's plan was not completed.

As he stood idly by the step-ladder, on the top of which was Dent
washing away at the windows, with the pail of warm water beside him,
Bob appeared to be toying with a bit of string.

"I don't s'pose you have any doughnuts left, Susan?" he ventured
rather wistfully.

Now Susan had not forgiven Bob for a little joke he had played on
her some time before, so at his hint, to show her displeasure, she
turned her back and did not answer.  This was just what Bob wanted.

Looking up to see that Dent was not observing him, he passed one end
of the string about the step-ladder.  Tying it securely, he fastened
the other end to Susan's apron strings in such a manner that it
would not pull off.

"I'll wait for you out in the barn," he said to Dent when it became
evident that Susan was not going to take the hint and get the
doughnuts.  In fact, Bob, much as he liked them, would have been
disappointed if she had gone in for some.  He wanted to get out of
the way before a certain thing happened.

He strolled off, but instead of going to the barn he hid around the
corner of the house.  Susan and Dent conversed for several minutes
longer, the man meanwhile busy at the windows.  Then the cook,
hearing her mistress calling her, started for the house in a hurry.

The result was disastrous.  As she started off the string tied to
the ladder and her apron tightened.  As Susan was a woman of heavy
weight, it did not take much effort on her part to pull over the
ladder, together with Dent and the pail of water.

Dent came down to the ground, fortunately landing on his feet like a
cat.  The pail of water described a graceful curve and splashed on
both Susan and the man.  The cook, whose feet became tangled up in
the falling ladder, slipped and fell, knocking Dent down, and there
they were in a heap, both soaking wet.

And that was Bob's "joke."  Hidden around the corner of the house,
he laughed so he almost betrayed his position.

"Oh, that's too funny!" he whispered.  "It was like clowns in a
circus!"

CHAPTER X

OFF ON THE TRIP

For a few seconds both the cook and the hired man, whose feet Susan
had knocked from under him, did not move.  The suddenness of it all
was too much for them.  Then Dent arose after a struggle.

"Did you do that on purpose?" he asked Susan, an angry look coming
over his face.

"Do what on purpose? What do you mean?"

"Did you upset my ladder?"

"Upset your ladder?  Well, I guess not! But I'd like to know why
you tried to throw that pail of water over me.  If it was meant for
a joke, I think it was a pretty poor one."

The woman started to arise, but found herself somewhat tangled up
in the cord and ladder.

"Throw water on you?" repeated Dent with a puzzled look.  "I didn't
throw any water.  It got on me as much as it did on you."

This was as near to a quarrel as these two had ever approached.
Bob, listening around the corner of the house, was holding his
sides to keep from bursting into laughter, though my own opinion is
that he should have felt sorry for his "joke."  It might have
resulted disastrously, for either Susan or the hired man might have
broken a leg or an arm.  But Bob never thought of that.  His sole
idea was to create a laugh for himself.

Dent and Susan, dripping wet, looked at each other.  Then the cook,
wiping some of the water from her face, got up.  As she did so the
cord tied to her apron strings became tightened, and as Dent was
partly standing on the step-ladder, Susan's progress was suddenly
stopped.

"There!" she exclaimed, "That's what did it.  My apron string got
tangled in the ladder."

Dent examined the cord.

"No, it didn't get tangled," he announced.  "It was tied there by
some one, and I know who did it."

"Who?"

"Bob Henderson.  Wait till I catch him!  He did this for a joke.
The young rascal! pretending he wanted some rheumatism medicine for
his father!  I'll fix him!"

Bob thought it was time to be moving on.  He did not like the tone
of Dent's voice.

But if the boy hoped to get off unseen he was disappointed.  As he
started to run he slipped and fell.  Dent heard the noise the lad
made, and while Susan was loosening the cord from her apron the man
ran forward.

Bob, however, was up like a flash and ran off, but not before Dent
had nearly caught him.  Then the hired man knew it would be of no
use to chase the mischievous lad, as Bob was very fleet of foot.

"You wait!" cried Dent, shaking his fist at Bob.  "I'll fix you!"

"You can't!" was the answer.  "I'm going on a voyage!"

"I hope you never come back here!" said Dent angrily.  "I hope you
get lost on a desert island where there's nothing to eat but
seaweed!"

"That would serve him right," added the cook "The idea of hinting
for some of my doughnuts!  I'll tell his mother on him."

"And I'll tell his father," added Dent.

Bob was a little afraid lest Mrs. Dodson might come out, and seeing
the state her employees were in, would know the lad had had a hand
in it.  The effects might be more unpleasant than they now promised
to be.  So Bob hastened his pace, and was soon out of sight of the
big house on the hill.  He left behind him two very angry persons,
yet when they glanced at each other neither Susan nor Dent could
help laughing.  They looked as if they had been through a cyclone
and cloud-burst, both at the same time, as the hired man expressed
it.

Bob's father did hear of the trick, but not in the way the lad
expected he would.  On cooling down neither the hired man nor the
cook felt like going and making a complaint about what Bob had
done.  The trick, however, had been witnessed by the coachman, and
he told some friends in the village.  In this way it became known
to several persons, and Mr. Henderson heard of it.

"Bob," he said to his son very sternly that night, "I thought you
had given up such foolishness as playing those tricks."

"I thought I had, too, dad, but I couldn't help doing this.  Her
apron strings came just in the right place."

"Do you think it was a nice thing to do?"

"No, sir.  I s'pose not."

Mr. Henderson sighed.  Bob was so frank to acknowledge a fault that
it was hard to punish him.

"I don't know what's going to become of you," he said.

"Well, that was my last land joke, dad."

"Your last land joke? What do you mean?"

"I'm going to sail with Captain Spark soon, and I'll not have time
for any more."

"That's so, and I'm glad of it.  If you try any jokes on the
sailors you may find they know a trick or two themselves."

"Oh, I'm going to turn over a new leaf."

"It's about time."

Bob really intended to mend his ways.  This, perhaps, was due as
much to a fear of what the sailors on the ship might do to him if
he played any pranks on them as it was to a desire to reform.

That same night Captain Spark arrived at the Henderson home a
little ahead of time.  He announced that his ship was ready to
sail, and that he and Bob would depart the next morning for the
seaport town.

"All ready, Bob?" he asked.

"Aye, aye, sir."

"That's the way to talk.  We may have to lay at the dock for a
couple of days longer than I calculated on, but that will give you
a chance to get acquainted with the ship before we strike blue
water."

"That will be good."

With the return of the captain, Bob's visions of a life on the
ocean wave were redoubled.

Mrs. Henderson cried a little when it came time to part the next
morning, and there was a suspicious dampness in the eyes of Mr.
Henderson.  Bob also, in spite of the happy life he thought lay
before him, was not altogether devoid of emotion.  He felt the
separation more than he thought he would.

"Now be a good boy, Bob," counseled his mother.

"I will." "It's your first long trip, and it certainly is a big
one," spoke his father.  "Prove yourself a man, Bob."

"I'll try, sir."

Bob felt new responsibilities now, and made any number of good
resolutions.

"Ahoy, my hearties!" called the bluff, cheerful voice of Captain
Spark.  "Heave up the anchor, brace around the yards, for we've got
a good wind, a free course and a fair sky!"

And with a chorus of good-bys the two started off toward the depot.
The trip was begun.

CHAPTER XI

THE "EAGLE" SAILS

Bob had often been on railroad journeys, so there was nothing
especially interesting about the first part of his trip.  But his
mind was so taken up with what was to follow that even the familiar
scenes as the train sped on out of the village seemed full of
delight to him.

"Well, I s'pose you've been pretty steady since I've been gone,
haven't you, Bob?" asked the captain, following a rather long pause.

"Well, pretty good, I guess.  I only played one joke."

"What was It?"

Bob related the circumstances of the step-ladder, the cook and the
hired man.

"Hum," remarked the commander of the _Eagle_ reflectively.  "So they
came down in a heap, eh, and the water splashed all over 'em?"

"Yes," replied Bob, trying not to chuckle at the recollection.

"Hum," remarked the captain again, and he seemed to be having some
difficulty with his breathing.  Bob wondered if his friend was
choking, he was so very red in the face, but he did not know that
the mariner was trying hard not to laugh.  The thought of the sight
of the pair tangled up in the step-ladder was too much for him,
though he did not want to encourage Bob in his reckless ways by
showing enough interest to laugh.

"By the way," went on the captain suddenly, becoming rather solemn,
"I s'pose you've learned the principal parts of the ship by now?"

"By names, yes, sir.  But I'm afraid I've got lots yet to learn."

"I should say you had.  You know about as much how to sail a ship as
I would how to run a steam-engine from seeing a tea-kettle boil."

Captain Spark believed in making boys know their place, and he made
up his mind he had a hard subject in Bob.  Still, he was determined
to reform him if it was possible.

"When do you expect to get into the Southern Pacific?" asked Bob, as
he thought of the secret map Captain Obed had given him.

"It all depends on what weather we have.  Why?"

"Here's something a friend of mine gave me," said Bob, pulling out
the wrinkled piece of parchment.  "He says there is treasure buried
on an island in the Southern Pacific."

"Treasure?  Let me see."

Captain Spark looked critically at the rather faint tracing of lines
on the yellow sheet.

"I'm afraid somebody has been playing a joke on you, or on Captain
Obed," he remarked, handing the parchment back, after Bob had told
him how he became possessed of it.

"A joke?"

"Yes.  That's a map, sure enough, but no sailor could ever find the
island by those directions."

"Why not?"

"I said he never could.  Perhaps I should have said he might by
accident.  Why, look, Bob.  Whoever made this map only marked the
location of the Island by degrees; that is the degree of longitude
and that of latitude.  Every circle is divided into three hundred
and sixty degrees, and as the earth is round. It follows that a
circle drawn around it would be the same.  Each degree therefore
means a distance at the equator of about seventy miles.  So unless
whoever drew this map is positive that the island is exactly at the
intersection of the degrees of latitude and longitude which you have
given me, it might be seventy miles one way or the other off from
the location given here.  And seventy miles is a good distance on
the water.  Besides, the map only states that the location is
'about' right.  I guess we'll never find that treasure, Bob.  I
don't believe it's there."

"Would you think it worth trying for?"

"I don't believe I would.  I might have to sail around for a week
merely to locate the island, and the chances would be I'd miss it.
Then if I did find it, it would be very unlikely that anything would
be buried there.  I don't take any stock in those Captain Kidd
yarns.  There's too many of 'em being spun by retired sailors.  If
Captain Kidd had any money, he took good care of it, you can wager.
Besides, I haven't any time to fool around looking for an island.  I
have to get my cargo to port on time."

Bob was a little disappointed that he could not take part in a
search for Captain Obed's treasure, but he reflected that what
Captain Spark said was probably right, resides, no one ever believed
the stories Captain Obed told.  The aged man's mind was not to be
depended on.

During the remainder of the journey by rail Captain Spark gave Bob
some good advice as to how to conduct himself while aboard the ship.
He imparted some useful information concerning navigation, and
promised to show Bob more about it after they had sailed.

"I'm anxious to get out on deep water," said the mariner.  "I don't
like this city life.  There are too many risks in it."

In due time they arrived at the seaport town, and, having seen that
Bob's baggage would be transported to the dock, Captain Spark led
the way to where the _Eagle_ was waiting the hoisting of her white
sails to catch the ocean breezes.

The ship was a large one, square-rigged, and had three masts, it
being of good tonnage.  As the voyage was a long one great care had
to be taken in loading the cargo, and this had caused a little
delay.  Not all the freight was aboard yet.

"Well, Mr. Carr, how are things moving?" asked the captain of a
tall, thin man who stood near the gangway as he and Bob went up the
plank.

"Very well, sir.  I think we shall be loaded by to-morrow."

"I hope so.  This lying at dock doesn't suit me.  By the way, let me
introduce a friend of mine.  This is Bob Henderson.  His mother is a
relative of mine, and Bob is taking a voyage for his health.  Bob,
this is my first mate, Mr. Carr."

"He looks healthy enough," remarked the first mate as he cordially
shook hands with Bob.

"Things are not always what they look like," replied the captain
with a smile.  "Bob found matters rather too lively for him ashore,
and his folks think it will quiet him down to go with me."

"I see," replied Mr. Carr in answer to his commander's sly wink.  He
now understood something of the situation.

"I'll leave you here a while," went on the commander to the boy.
"You can look about a bit while I go below and work on my manifest.
Mr. Carr will tell you anything you want to know."

But Bob was so interested in watching the sailors at work stowing
away the cargo, while others were cleaning various parts of the
ship, that he did not ask many questions.

All the rest of that day the loading went on.  Bob and the captain
went ashore for their meals, as the commander had some business to
attend to in the port, but Bob spent that night in his bunk.  It was
the first time he had ever slept in a ship's berth, and he rather
liked the novelty.

The next day the loading was rapidly proceeded with, and by noon all
the cargo was stowed away.

Captain Spark was below in his cabin, making out the final papers
and waiting for his clearance documents from the harbor master.  Mr.
Carr and his assistants were busy getting the _Eagle_ ready to sail,
while Bob stood near the rail, watching with curious eyes everything
that was going on.

While he stood there he saw a short, stout, pale-faced man coming up
the gangplank.  The man carried a valise in each hand, while behind
him walked a 'longshoreman with a trunk on his shoulder.

"Now, my man, be very careful of that trunk," urged the short,
stout, pale man.  "Don't drop it for the world."

"I'm not going to, sir," and the 'longshoreman attempted to touch
his hat as a mark of respect.

"Don't do that!" exclaimed the nervous man.  "You might drop it, and
something would break."

"All right, sir.  Very well, sir," and once more the 'longshoreman
made as if to touch his hat.  It was a habit of his to do this
whenever spoken to by those who employed him.

"There you go again!" cried the man in rather whining tones.  "Don't
do it, I say!  There!  Keep your hands on the trunk!"

Seeing that this last order was obeyed, the nervous man advanced up
the gangplank.  He came on deck, set his two valises very carefully
down, watched the 'longshoreman place the trunk on end, as if it
contained eggs, and then he asked of Bob:

"Is this ship the _Eagle_?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you sure now? I don't want any mistake made.  I don't see the
name on it anywhere."

"It is on the bows and under the stern."

Bob rather prided himself on this nautical knowledge.

"Hum!  Well, perhaps it may be.  You are positive it is the _Eagle_?"

"Yes, sir.   Positive.  A distant relative of my mother is the
captain."

"Is it Captain Spark?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you sure?  I don't want to be on the wrong ship."

"Yes, sir, I am very sure, I came on board with him.  Are you going
to sail on the ship?" asked Bob politely.

"I expect to, if this is the right vessel.  I wish I was sure.
Perhaps you might be mistaken," and he glanced nervously around.

"No, I am positive.  There is Captain Spark now," he added as the
commander came up a companionway.

"Oh, yes.  I shall speak to him."

The nervous man started off.  Just then Captain Spark, having
received his clearance papers by messenger, gave orders to cast off.
The _Eagle_ was about to sail.

"All ashore that's going ashore!" called the first mate.

The 'longshoreman started down the gangplank which was about to be
hauled in.

"Wait, I must pay you!" called the nervous passenger, turning back
toward the man who had brought his trunk aboard.

The 'longshoreman waited.

"Cast off that stern line!" shouted the captain.

"Oh, dear! I wish I was sure this was the _Eagle_!" spoke the
nervous passenger.

"It is," Bob assured him, smiling at the man's manner.  First he
would advance a little way toward the captain, intending to ask him
the momentous question; then he would turn toward the 'longshoreman,
who was waiting for his money.

"Lively with that gangplank now!" ordered the commander.

"Oh, if I have made a mistake and gotten on the wrong ship it will
be terrible," murmured the man.

"Why don't you throw off that stern line?" again shouted the captain.

"What shall I do?" exclaimed the nervous man.

"If you're goin' t' pay me, your honor, you'll have t' hustle,"
advised the 'longshoreman.

"I will, my man.  Never mind touching your hat.  Oh, you are not
carrying my trunk now; I forgot.  Here's a dollar.  Never mind the
change."

"All ashore that's going ashore!" yelled Mr. Carr again.

Up came the gangplank.  The 'longshoreman leaped over the side of
the ship and landed on the dock.  There was a puffing from the tug
that had been engaged to pull the _Eagle_ out into the channel.

"Are you sure this is the right ship?" appealed the man to Bob once
more.

"Positively yes, sir.  Anyhow, it's too late now."

"Too late?  How?  What do you mean?"

"I mean that we're under way now."

The nervous passenger ran to the side and looked over.  True enough,
the _Eagle_ was some distance from the wharf.  The tug was straining
on the big hawser.  The ship had begun her long voyage around Cape
Horn.

CHAPTER XII

SOME JOKES ON BOB

Seeing that he was now indeed afloat, and that the ship was some
distance from land, the man became more nervous than ever.  He
paced up and down the deck, looking anxiously at the fast-receding
shore.

Suddenly he ran toward the bow of the ship and leaned far over the
rail.

"Hey there!" yelled Bob, thinking the man was going to Jump
overboard and swim ashore.  "What are you doing?"

"I was trying to see the name of the vessel," answered the man,
whose face was now red instead of pale, caused by his exertion in
bending over the rail.

"You can't see it by leaning over," replied Bob.  "It's painted
away up by the figurehead."

"I know I can't see it," answered the nervous passenger.  "Oh, I
wish I was sure."

"I tell you you're on the _Eagle_," declared Bob.  "Can't you take
my word?"

"When you get as old as I am, and have been through as much
trouble, you'll never take anybody's word for anything," was the
answer.  "I must be sure.  I'm off for a long voyage, and I don't
want to make a mistake."

"You're not making any mistake if you want to be aboard the
_Eagle_.  Here comes Captain Spark now.  You can ask him."

At that moment the commander, having seen his vessel well under
way, came to where Bob and the nervous passenger were standing.

"Is this Mr. Hiram Tarbill?" asked the mariner, holding out his
hand.

"Yes, sir.  Are you Captain Jeremiah Spark?"

"That's who I am."

"Is this the schooner _Eagle_, bound around Cape Horn?"

"Yes, sir, with a mixed cargo consigned to various firms in Lima,
Peru.  Would you like to look at my papers?"

"No, I guess it's all right," and Mr. Tarbill seemed much relieved.
"You see, my train was late," he went on, "and I came aboard in
such a hurry that I was not sure I was on the right ship.  I
dislike to make mistakes, especially as my health is not very good."

"Yes, you're on the right ship," Captain Spark assured Mr. Tarbill.
"Now if you'll come with me I'll show you to your stateroom.  But
first let me introduce to you a relative of mine," and he presented
Bob.

"Yes, I have been talking with him," said Mr. Tarbill.  "He assured
me I was on the right vessel, but I did not know whether he knew or
not."

"Oh, yes, Bob knows that much about the ship.  But he's going to
learn more soon."

The captain conducted the nervous passenger to the stateroom set
apart for him and then came back on deck.

"What do you think of him?" he asked Bob.

"He seems all right, but very nervous."

"That's the trouble.  He's too nervous.  His doctor recommended him
to take a long sea voyage to see if it would cure him.  I think it
will.  I never knew a sailor who was nervous, and it's all because
of the salt water.  Now, Bob, amuse yourself as best you can until
the tug drops us.   I have several matters to attend to.  After a
bit I'll give you some regular duties to perform every day.  They
will not be hard, but I shall expect you to perform them as well as
you are able.  While in the main this is a pleasure trip for you,
undertaken for a purpose with which you are familiar, I want you to
derive some benefit from it.  Don't you think that wise?"

"Yes, sir," answered Bob, who had formed several good resolutions
regarding his future conduct.

"Very well, then.  You can roam about the ship at your pleasure
until I am ready for you."

Now a ship is one of the best places in the world for the
circulation of news.  It is a little village in itself, and what
happens in the captain's cabin, though there may be a desire to
keep it secret, is soon known in the forecastle, or "fo'kesel," as
the sailors pronounce it.  Consequently it was not long before it
was known that Bob was being sent on the voyage to reform him for
certain roguish tricks to which he was addicted.  This was known to
the majority of the crew before the ship sailed.

Consequently they were not only on their guard against any pranks
which the boy might try to perpetrate, but several of the younger
men resolved to give Bob a taste of his own medicine.

There was some whispering among members of the crew as they
observed Bob strolling about the deck, and one of the men said
something to Mr. Carr.  The first mate nodded and smiled.  A little
later, as Bob was watching the men coil up the big hawser which the
tug had cast off, the _Eagle_ now proceeding along under her own
sails, one of the sailors stepped up to him.

"Would you mind doing us a favor?" he asked respectfully.

"Of course not.  I'll do anything I can for you," answered Bob,
glad to make the closer acquaintance of the men.

"Then would you kindly go to Captain Spark and ask him for a
left-handed marlinspike?  We need it to splice this hawser with.
He keeps it in his cabin because there's only one on board and it's
quite a valuable instrument."

The man spoke as gravely as a judge.

"A left-handed marlinspike?" repeated Bob.  "I suppose one of the
sailors must be left-handed," he thought.

He knew what a marlinspike was from having seen the men use the
sharp-pointed irons to pick apart the strands of rope preparatory
to splicing, so, anxious to be of service, he hurried to Captain
Spark's cabin.

"The men sent me for a left-handed marlinspike," he said,
interrupting the commander, who was busy over his accounts.

"A left-handed marlinspike," repeated the commander, at once
understanding the joke.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm sorry," was the answer, gravely given, "but I lost it
overboard a while ago.  You'd better go to Mr. Carr and ask him for
the scuttle-butt.  That will do as well."

"Yes, sir," replied Bob, who, not suspecting anything, hunted up
the first mate and made his request.

"You'll find it right over there," said Mr. Carr, pointing to a big
water barrel on deck.  It was one from which the sailors drank.
"If it's too heavy for you, you'd better get help," said Mr. Carr,
trying not to smile.  But Bob was aware now that he had been made
the butt of a joke, and though he felt a little embarrassed, he had
to laugh in spite of himself.

"That's pretty good," he said.   "A left-handed marlinspike turns
into a scuttle-butt, and that turns into a water barrel.  I've got
lots to learn yet."

He could hear the sailors laughing at the trick they had played,
with the consent of the first mate, and with a grim smile Bob
resolved to get even.

CHAPTER XIII

BOB TRIES A PRANK

The _Eagle_ was sailing along under a spanking breeze, and already
the motion of Old Briny was beginning to make itself felt.  The
vessel rolled to a considerable degree, and as she passed farther
and farther out to sea this became more pronounced.

Bob, who had been active in visiting different parts of the ship,
watching the sailors at their duties, and picking up bits of
information here and there, soon got over his little indignation
against those who had played the joke on him.  But he soon became
conscious of another feeling.

This was a decidedly uneasy one, and for the first time since he
had begun to think of the voyage Bob began to fear he was going to
be seasick.

"I certainly do feel queer," said our hero to himself as he leaned
against the railing amidships.  "I wonder what I'd better do?
Perhaps I'm moving around too much.  I'll keep quiet."

He sat down on a hatch cover and tried to think of other things.
The sea was beginning to turn blue--the blue of deep water--and the
sun was shining brightly.  There was a strong wind and a healthful
smell of salt in the air.

Still Bob did not appear to care for any of those things.  His own
feelings seemed to increase.

"Sitting still is worse than moving around," he began to think.

Just then Mr. Carr passed the boy.

"What's the matter?" he asked.  "You look rather white about the
gills, messmate."

"I--I don't feel very well," replied Bob.

"Better go and lie down then.  I guess you're in for a spell of
seasickness.  Mr. Tarbill has already got his."

Bob thought it would be best to follow the advice.  He went to his
berth, and soon he was a very sick boy.  He would have given up all
his chances of rounding the Horn--yes, he would even have
sacrificed his share in the rather mythical treasure of Captain
Obed--if he could only have found some place that was not heaving,
pitching and tossing.  But the ship rolled on, and the motion
seemed to increase rather than diminish.

It was a week before Bob was entirely well.  During that time he
stayed in his bunk, but Captain Spark saw to it that the boy was
well looked after and doctored with such simple remedies as are
used in that common form of illness, which attacks nearly all who
first venture upon the sea.

At the end of the week Bob found that he could stand up without
feeling his head go buzzing around.  He ventured out on deck, and
the salt breeze brought some color into his pale cheeks.

"You sort of look as if you had been drawn through a knothole,"
remarked Tom Manton, one of the sailors.

"Yes, old Father Neptune has been playing tricks on him, I reckon,"
added Sam Bender, the second mate.

"I feel as if I had been drawn through two knot-holes, one right
after the other," spoke Bob, with an attempt at a smile.

"You'll soon be all right again now," comforted Tom.  "Get a little
salt horse and sea biscuit down for a foundation, and you can build
up on that the finest thing in the way of a meal you ever saw."

For the first time since his illness Bob could think of food
without a shudder.  He really began to feel hungry.  The old sailor
proved a good prophet.  Bob began to mend steadily, and in a few
days he was as active as ever--more so, in fact.

"Now's the time to look for trouble," remarked Captain Spark to his
mate one day.

"Trouble?  How?"

"Bob is himself again.  He'll be up to some tricks or I'm a
Dutchman.  But we must meet him half way.  Give him back some of
his own coin.  He's on this voyage to be cured, and I'm going to do
it If I have to keelhaul him."

"I guess the men will be only too anxious to do their share.  They
like Bob, but he mustn't play too many pranks on them."

"No.  Well, I guess they can look out for themselves."

"I guess so," answered the mate with a smile.  Later that day
Captain Spark instructed Bob in some simple duties which would be
his to perform during the voyage.  He was to act in the capacity of
cabin boy.

Now that Bob was in his usual spirits he began to feel an
inclination to be at some of his pranks.  He thought, with a sigh,
that he had not played a good joke since the affair of the
step-ladder, the cook and the hired man.  So he began to look about
and consider the possibilities of indulging in some pranks.

But Bob had about made up his mind not to bother the sailors.  He
was a little afraid of them, as they were big, strong men, and he
had a suspicion that they were only waiting for him to begin
operations before they would do something on their own account.
Bob had an idea they might tie him to a rope, throw him overboard
and duck him.

That, he thought, would be pretty harsh treatment.

"I wish Mr. Tarbill would come from his stateroom," Bob mused.  "I
guess it would be safe to play a little joke on him.  I've simply
got to have some fun."

Mr. Tarbill had suffered very much from seasickness, though he was
now recovered.  He came on deck the next day, but he was more
nervous than ever.

"Oh, my!" he exclaimed as a big wave struck the _Eagle_, heeling
her over considerably.  "Are we going down?"

"Oh, I guess not," replied Bob confidently.  He and Mr. Tarbill
were together on the quarterdeck.  The nervous passenger's fears
gave Bob an idea.

"I'll give him a real scare," thought the boy.  "Maybe it will cure
him of being nervous."

My reader can easily understand that Bob had one thought for Mr.
Tarbill and two for himself.

The boy considered matters a few minutes, during which time the
nervous passenger seemed to grow more and more frightened of the
big waves, which had been piled up by quite a heavy blow the
previous night.

Presently Bob went to the after-rail and looked intently into the
water.  Then he uttered an exclamation.

"Oh! Oh!" he cried.  "It's coming right after us!  Have you a
revolver, Mr. Tarbill?"

"A revolver?  What for?  What is coming after us, my dear young
friend?"

"A big whale!  He's just under the surface of the water!  He's
trying to break off the rudder!  Quick, give me your revolver!"

"I haven't any!  Oh, dear!  I'm so nervous!  Do you think he will
damage the ship, my dear young friend?"

"I'm afraid so!  Look out!  Hold on!  Here he comes!"

Bob pretended to grasp the rail to prevent being tossed overboard
by the expected shock.  Mr. Tarbill did the same, and with anxious
fears waited for what would happen next.  Then the ship seemed to
give a great shiver as a big wave struck under the port bow.

"He's hit us!" cried Bob, trying not to laugh.

"Quick!  Get me a life-preserver!" exclaimed Mr.  Tarbill.  "A
life-preserver!  The ship is sinking!"

[Illustration: "A life-preserver!  The ship is sinking!"]

"What's all the excitement about?" suddenly asked Captain Spark,
appearing at the head of the ladder that led to the quarterdeck.

"The ship has been struck by a monster whale!" exclaimed the
nervous passenger, "He's rammed us, captain, and I'm going to get a
life-preserver!  Then I must save my valuables in my cabin!"

He rushed from the deck, while the captain, with a grim look on his
face, glanced at Bob, who burst into laughter.

CHAPTER XIV

MR. TARBILL GETS A SHOCK

"This is one of your 'jokes,' I suppose," remarked the captain.

"Yes.  It was too funny," answered Bob.  "He really believed a
whale was after us."

"Do you think it was a good thing to do, alarm him so?"

"I--er--well, I thought it might do his nerves good," stammered Bob.

"Hum!" murmured the captain.  "I must say, Bob, you have a queer
idea of what is good for the nerves.  Now I can't allow this.  Mr.
Tarbill is a guest of mine, and I will not have his comfort
interfered with.  He is taking a voyage for his health, and I don't
want him annoyed."

"I'm sorry," began Bob, always ready to repent, though usually it
did not last long.

"Then don't do it again."

"I'll not, sir.  I didn't think he'd believe me."

"He knows very little about the ocean.  In fact, there are some
things you don't know, and, if they wanted to, some of the old
sailors could spin you yarns that would make your hair stand up."

"I wish they would then," said Bob.  "I like sea stories, captain."

"I guess I'll have to take stronger measures with him," thought the
commander as he walked forward.

A few minutes later Mr. Tarbill rushed up on deck.  He had a
life-preserver strapped about him, and in either hand was a valise,
while over his shoulder was some spare clothing he had not had time
to pack in the satchels.

"Are the lifeboats ready?" he asked of Mr. Carr, who was the first
person he met on deck.

"The lifeboats?  What for?"

"Why, the ship has been rammed by a whale and is sinking."

"Who told you so?"

"That boy, Bob Henderson."

"I thought so!" exclaimed the mate.  "That's one of his so-called
'jokes.'  There's no danger, Mr. Tarbill.  That was only a big wave
that hit us.  You are perfectly safe."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure."

"Don't you think I had better see the captain and ask him about it
before I take off my life-preserver?"

"Oh, no; there is no need of that.  The ship is in no danger," and
the mate tried not to smile at the nervous passenger's fears.

"Then if you say so I'll go and take this life-preserver off.  It
is quite heavy."

"Do so by all means.  The young rascal," added the mate under his
breath as he thought of Bob.  "I'll have to teach him a lesson."

Bob was not a little alarmed at the result of his thoughtless
prank.  He did not know what the captain might do to punish him,
and in the future he resolved to restrain his impulses.

"Maybe he'll send me home by some passing ship," the boy thought,
"and I wouldn't like that a bit."

The weather was fine for the next few days.  The _Eagle_ continued
on her way south, the climate getting warmer and warmer as they
approached the equator.  Bob meanwhile had learned much about the
ship and the manner of sailing it.  He got the names of the various
ropes and sails by heart, and it would have taken a pretty
ingenious sailor to have sent him on a foolish errand now after
some part of the ship's gear.  Captain Spark was encouraged by
Bob's behavior, and began to think the voyage was doing the lad
good.  So it was, but the cure was not complete, as you shall see.

Mr. Tarbill resented Bob's joke, and had not spoken to the boy
since the "whale" incident.  But Bob did not mind this.  There was
plenty to keep him occupied, with his duties to perform and
sailors' stories to listen to.

When they were out about two weeks there came a day when there was
only the lightest breeze, The _Eagle_ barely had steerageway over
the sea, which was as quiet and still as a small lake.  The blue
waters sparkled in the bright sun, and as Bob lounged about on deck
he felt a lazy contentment which was probably caused by the near
approach to the tropical zone.

He looked up at the towering masts, and an idea came to him.

"If I could climb up there," he said, "I could have a fine view.  I
ought to be able to see a vessel from that height.  Guess I'll do
it.  I never tried it, but it looks easy, and there's not enough
motion to pitch me off."

With Bob, usually, to think was to act.  Looking around to see that
neither the captain nor the mates were in sight to forbid him, he
stepped to the rail, mounted Into the shrouds, or ladders, that are
formed by the wire ropes supporting the mast, and was soon
ascending toward the maintop, the highest point of the largest mast.

It was rather difficult work, but Bob kept on and soon was a great
distance above the deck.  He looked around him, noted several ships
which were not visible from below and then glanced down.  He saw
Mr. Tarbill come out on deck, and then, more in good spirits than
because he wanted, to cause the nervous passenger a scare, Bob gave
a great shout.  Mr. Tarbill looked up, saw the boy far in the air,
clinging to what, at that distance, Seemed but a slender stick, and
then he cried:

"Quick!  Somebody come quick!"

"What is it?" shouted Mr.  Carr, thinking from the tones of Mr.
Tarbill's voice some one had fallen overboard.

"That boy!  That awful boy!" replied the nervous man.

"What about him?  Is he overboard?  Which side?  I'll throw him a
life-preserver!"

"No, he isn't overboard!  He's up there!  On the mast!  Oh!
Suppose he falls!  My nerves are in such a state!  This is an awful
shock!  What a dreadful boy!  I wish he had never come aboard this
ship, or else that I hadn't!"

"Come on up!" cried Bob, all unconscious of the excitement he had
created.  "It's fine up here!"

"Oh! I feel as if I was going to faint!" exclaimed Mr.  Tarbill,
growing paler than usual.

"Come down, Bob!" ordered Mr. Carr, making a trumpet of his hands.
"If it isn't one thing it's another," thought the mate.  "I'll be
glad when this voyage is over."

CHAPTER XV

THE STORM

Bob came down, wondering why he was not allowed to stay at the
maintop for a while longer.

"Oh! Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Tarbill when the boy reached the deck.
"You've given me such a fright!"

"I didn't mean to," replied Bob honestly enough.

"Oh, but you did! I think I'll have to go to my cabin and take some
nerve medicine."

The passenger left the deck, and Mr. Carr said:

"Don't do that again, Bob."

"No, sir; not if you don't want me to."

"It's too dangerous," added the first mate.

Bob was not very sharply reprimanded by Captain Spark for this
escapade, as the commander realized that the boy meant no harm.
But it was several days before Mr. Tarbill got over the shock.

Urged on by brisk winds the _Eagle_ made excellent speed, and
several days before he calculated he would reach it Captain Spark
found his vessel "crossing the line"; that is, passing over the
imaginary circle which marks the equator.  Bob enjoyed his life on
board the ship more than ever, now that the tropics were reached.
The usual pranks were indulged in by the sailors when Father
Neptune came aboard the day the line was crossed, and Bob came in
for not a little horse-play.  But he did not mind it, and in turn
he played several jokes on the sailors and was not rebuked.  It was
a time of freedom from restraint.

Continuing on south, the _Eagle_ passed from the hot region, and
once more was in the temperate zone.  But now the weather, which
had been fine for several weeks, began to show signs of a change.

"We'll soon be in for a troublesome time," said the captain as he
sat in the main cabin one night, looking over some charts.

"How?" asked Bob.

"We're approaching the Horn.  To navigate the Straits of Magellan
is no small matter.  There are always more or less storms in that
region, and I wish I was well through it."

"Then we're liable to have a hard passage?"

"More than likely."

The captain's fears were verified.  A few days later, when they
were within a hundred miles of the dreaded Straits, it began to
blow.  There was a steady increase to the wind, and Captain Spark
wore an anxious look as he paced the quarterdeck.

Still there seemed to be nothing more than a heavy blow, and Bob
was beginning to hope they might get through with less trouble than
the commander anticipated.  The captain had decided to try the
passage of the Straits rather than to actually go around Cape Horn.

But it was not to be.  The next day, toward evening, when they were
preparing to navigate the difficult passage, there came a veritable
hurricane.

Fortunately Captain Spark had in a measure anticipated it, and had
taken in sail, bending on some heavy storm canvas which, small as
it was, sent the ship ahead at a terrific pace.

As night came on the _Eagle_ was seen to be in a mass of swirling,
tumbling waves which seemed anxious to overpower the stanch craft.

Mr. Tarbill was in a great fright.  He tried to stay in his cabin,
but when the ship began to pitch and toss he could not stand it.
So donning a life-preserver, he came on deck.  Here he was much in
the way, for the sailors had to be constantly rushing here and
there, making ropes fast and attending to their duties.  To add to
the discomforts of the situation, it began to rain in torrents.

"Oh, I know we're going to sink!" cried the nervous passenger.  "Do
you think it will be soon, captain?"

"What soon?" asked the commander, who was too busy to pay much
attention to Mr. Tarbill.  "Will we sink soon?"

"Sink? We're not going to sink at all if I can help it!  This is no
worse than lots of storms.  You had better go to your cabin and lie
down."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare to!  The ship might sink while I was there.  I
know we'll get caught in a whirlpool, or in a waterspout, or some
other dreadful thing!  This is terrible!  Awful!  Fearful!"

The wind was increasing, and great waves dashed over the _Eagle's_
bow.

"It's bad luck to have such a storm-croaker as that aboard,"
murmured one of the sailors.  "He's a regular Jonah!"

"I wish he'd go below," muttered the captain, and Bob overheard
him.  "He's frightening every one up here, and we're going to have
a hard enough time as it is without a nervous man on deck."

Bob, though he was frightened at the storm, which was constantly
growing worse, determined to stick it out.  He wanted to see what
would happen.  But he saw a chance to do a service to the captain,
though it would involve playing an innocent trick on Mr. Tarbill.

Accordingly, when there came a little lull in the wind, Bob made
his way to where the nervous passenger stood with his back braced
against a deckhouse.

"It'll be here pretty soon now," said Bob, shouting to make himself
heard above the noise of the storm.

"What will, my dear young friend?" asked Mr. Tarbill, forgetting
his former anger at Bob under the stress of the circumstances.  "Do
you mean to tell us anything else is going to happen?"

"Something surely is, Mr. Tarbill," said Bob, with an air of great
earnestness, moving closer to the man, so as to get away from the
driving rain, as Mr. Tarbill stood under shelter.

"What is coming? Do tell me.  I am so very nervous."

"The Jilla-Jilly wind! We'll be in the midst of it soon.  You'd
better look out!"

"The Jilla-Jilly wind?  For mercy sakes, what's that?"

"It's a kind of a hurricane," said Bob, inventing something on the
spur of the moment.  "Only, instead of blowing straight ahead or
around in a circle it blows up and down.  It's liable to snatch you
right up to the clouds, or suck you down into the ocean!"

"That is terrible, my dear young friend!"

"Terrible!  I should say it was!"

"What had I better do?"

"You'll surely be blown overboard if you stay on deck.  That
Jilla-Jilly wind is the most terrible wind you ever heard of!
We'll soon strike it!  There, that sounds like it now!  Don't you
feel as if you were being lifted up?"

The nervous fears of Mr. Tarbill made him anticipate almost any
sensation that was vividly described to him.  He was in such a
state of mind that he would have believed almost anything he heard.

"Yes! Yes!" he exclaimed.  "I feel it coming!  Oh, dear!  What
shall I do?"

"Go below quickly!" yelled Bob, for that was the object he had in
mind in inventing the Jilla-Jilly wind for the occasion.

"I will!  I'll go at once!"  And, holding on to hand-lines which
had been stretched about the deck for safety, the nervous passenger
made his way to his cabin, while the ship tossed more than ever.

CHAPTER XVI

WRECK OF THE SHIP

Though the vessel was in great danger Bob could not help smiling at
the success of his prank.  When Mr. Tar-bill, with every evidence
of terror, had left the deck, Bob crept cautiously forward to peer
ahead into the wild waste of waves that threatened to overwhelm the
_Eagle_.

"If it isn't a Jilla-Jilly wind, it's almost as bad," thought our
hero.  If he had known more about the ocean and its terrors he
would have been more frightened than he was.  If it was not exactly
an instance of "where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise,"
it was, in Bob's case, the next thing to it.

"Wow!  That was a bad one!" exclaimed the boy, as an
extraordinarily large wave made the ship tremble.

At the same instant a frightened shriek rang out through the
darkness.  It was one full of terror.

"It's got me!  It's got me!" yelled the voice.  "What in the world
is that?" shouted Captain Spark above the din of the storm.  "Is
some one overboard?"

"Sounds like Mr. Tarbill," replied the mate, putting his lips close
to the captain's ear, so as to be heard.