The Adventure Club Afloat

  THE ADVENTURE CLUB AFLOAT

  by

  RALPH HENRY BARBOUR

  Author of _Left End Edwards_, _Left Tackle Thayer_, etc.

  With Illustrations by E. C. Caswell

  1917

  The two cruisers were chug-chugging out of the harbour.]

  TO

  H.P. HOLT,

  WHOSE THUNDER I HAVE STOLEN

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  THE TWO CRUISERS WERE CHUG-CHUGGING OUT OF THE HARBOUR

  "IT IS!" HE CRIED. "WE'VE GOT HER, FELLOWS!"

  "THOSE WAVES WILL BATTER HER TO PIECES"

  "THEY OFFER YOU--" MR. HYATT LEANED FORWARD IN THE PROTESTING CHAIR

  CHAPTER I

  HOW IT STARTED

  The Adventure Club had its inception, one evening toward the last ofJune, in Number 17 Sumner Hall, which is the oldest, most vine-hiddenand most hallowed of the seven dormitories of Dexter Academy. It was aparticularly warm evening, the two windows were wide open and thegreen-shaded light on the study table in the centre of the room had beenturned low--Sumner prided itself on being conservative to the extent ofgas instead of electricity and tin bathtubs instead of porcelain--and inthe dim radiance the three occupants of the room were scarcely more thandarker blurs.

  Since final examinations had ended that afternoon and Graduation Day wasonly some twenty-eight hours away, none of the three was doing anythingmore onerous than yawning, and the yawn which came from Perry Bush,didn't sound as though it cost much of an effort. It was, rather, acomfortable, sleepy yawn, one that expressed contentment and relief, asort of "Glad-that's-over-and-I'm-still-alive" yawn.

  There was a window-seat under each casement in Number 17, and each wasoccupied by a recumbent figure. Perry was on the right-hand seat, hishands under his head and one foot sprawled on the floor, and JoeIngersoll was in the other, his slim, white-trousered legs jack-knifedagainst the darker square of the open window. Near Joe, his feet tuckedsociably against Joe's ribs, Steve Chapman, the third of the trio,reclined in a Morris chair. I use the word reclined advisedly, for Stevehad lowered the back of the chair to its last notch, and to say that hewas sitting would require a stretch of the imagination almost as long asSteve himself! Through the windows Steve could see the dark masses ofthe campus elms, an occasional star between the branches, and, byraising his head the fraction of an inch, the lights in the upper storyof Hawthorne, across the yard. Somewhere under the trees outside a groupof fellows were singing to the accompaniment of a wailing ukelele. Theysang softly, so that the words floated gently up to the open casementsjust distinguishable:

  "_Years may come and years may go, Seasons ebb and seasons flow, Autumn lie 'neath Winters' snow, Spring bring Summer verdancy. Life may line our brow with care, Time to silver turn our hair, Still, to us betide whate'er, Dexter, we'll remember thee!_

  "_Other memories may fade, Hopes grow dim in ev'ning's shade, Golden friendships that we made_--"

  "Aw, shut up!" muttered Perry, breaking the silence that had held themfor several minutes. Joe Ingersoll laughed softly.

  "You don't seem to like the efforts of the--um--sweet-voicedchoristers," he said in his slow way.

  "I don't like the sob-stuff," replied Perry resentfully. "What's the useof rubbing it in? Why not let a fellow be cheerful after he has gotthrough by the skin of his teeth and kicked his books under the bed?Gosh, some folks never want anyone to be happy!" He raised himself bypainful effort and peered out and down into the gloom. "Sophs, I'llbet," he murmured, falling back again on the cushions. "No one elsewould sit out here on the grass and sing school songs two days beforethe end. I hope that idiot singing second bass will get a brown-tailcaterpillar down his neck!"

  "The end!" observed Steve Chapman. "You say that as if we were all goingto die the day after tomorrow, Perry! Cheer up! Vacation's coming!"

  "Vacation be blowed!" responded Perry. "What's that amount to, anyway?Nothing ever happens to me in vacation. It's all well enough for youfellows to laugh. You're going up to college together in the Fall. I'mcoming back to this rotten hole all alone!"

  "Not quite alone, Sweet Youth," corrected Joe. "There will be some fourhundred other fellows here."

  "Oh, well, you know what I mean," said Perry impatiently. "You and Stevewill be gone, and I don't give a hang for any other chaps!"

  He ended somewhat defiantly, conscious that he had indulged in a mostunmanly display of sentiment, and was glad that the darkness hid theconfusion and heightened colour that followed the confession. Steve andJoe charitably pretended not to have noticed the lamentable exhibitionof feeling, and a silence followed, during which the voices of thesingers once more became audible.

  "_Dexter! Mother of our Youth! Dexter! Guardian of the Truth!_"

  "_Cut it out!_" Perry leaned over the windowsill and bawled the commanddown into the darkness. A defiant jeer answered him.

  "Don't be fresh," said Steve reprovingly. Perry mumbled and relapsedinto silence. Presently, sighing as he changed his position, Joe said:

  "I believe Perry's right about vacation, Steve. Nothing much ever doeshappen to a fellow in Summer. I believe I've had more fun in school thanat home the last six years."

  The others considered the statement a minute. Then: "Correct," saidSteve. "It's so, I guess. We're always crazy to get home in June andjust as crazy to get back to school again in September, and I believe weall have more good times here than at home."

  "Of course we do," agreed Perry animatedly. "Anyway, I do. Summers areall just the same. My folks lug me off to the Water Gap and we staythere until it's time to come back here. I play tennis and go motoringand sit around on the porch and--and--bathe--"

  "Let's hope so," interpolated Joe gravely.

  "And nothing really interesting ever happens," ended Perry despairingly."Gee, I'd like to be a pirate or--or something!"

  "Summers _are_ rather deadly," assented Steve. "We go to the seashore,but the place is filled with swells, and about all they do is changetheir clothes, eat and sleep. When you get ready for piracy, Perry, letme know, will you! I'd like to sign-on."

  "Put me down, too," said Joe. "I've always had a--um--sneaking idea thatI'd make a bully pirate. I'm naturally bloodthirsty and cruel. And I'vegot a mental list of folks who--um--I'd like to watch walk the plank!"

  "Fellows of our ages have a rotten time of it, anyway," Perry grumbled."We're too old to play kids' games and too young to do anything worthwhile. What I'd like to do--"

  "Proceed, Sweet Youth," Joe prompted after a moment.

  "Well, I'd like to--to start something! I'd like to get away somewhereand do things. I'm tired of loafing around in white flannels all dayand keeping my hands clean. And I'm tired of dabbing whitewash on myshoes! Didn't you fellows ever think that you'd like to get good anddirty and not have to care? Wouldn't you like to put on an old flannelshirt and a pair of khaki trousers and some 'sneakers' and--and roll inthe mud?"

  "Elemental stuff," murmured Joe. "He's been reading Jack London."

  "Well, that's the way I feel, lots of times," said Perry defiantly. "I'mtired of being clean and white, and I'm tired of dinner jackets, and I'msick to death of hotel porches! Gee, a healthy chap never was intendedto lead the life of a white poodle with a pink ribbon around his neck!Me for some rough-stuff!"

  "You're dead right, too," agreed Steve. "That kind of thing is all rightfor Joe, of course. Joe's a natural-born 'fusser.' He's never happierthan when he's dolled up in a sport-shirt and a lavender scarf andtoasting marshmallows. But--"

  "Is that so?" inquired Joe with deep sarcasm. "If I was half the'fusser' you are--"

  "What I want," interrupted Perry, warming to his t
heme, "is adventure!I'd like to hunt big game, or discover the North Pole--"

  "You're a year or two late," murmured Joe.

  "--or dig for hidden treasure!"

  "You should--um--change your course of reading," advised Joe. "Too muchRoosevelt and Peary and Stevenson is your trouble. Read the classics forawhile--or the Patty Books."

  "That's all right, but you chaps are just the same, only you won't ownup to it."

  "One of us will," said Steve; "and does."

  "Make it two," yawned Joe. "Beneath this--um--this polished exteriorthere beats a heart--I mean there flows the red blood of--"

  "Look here, fellows, why not?" asked Steve.

  "Why not what?" asked Perry.

  "Why not have adventures? They say that all you have to do is look forthem."

  "Don't you believe it! I've looked for them for years and I've neverseen one yet." Perry swung his feet to the floor and sat up.

  "Well, not at Delaware Water Gap, naturally. You've got to move around,son. You don't find them by sitting all day with your feet on the railof a hotel piazza."

  "Where do you find them, then?" Perry demanded.

  Steve waved a hand vaguely aloft into the greenish radiance of the lamp."All round. North, east, south and west. Land or sea. Adventures,Perry, are for the adventurous. Now, here we are, three able-bodiedfellows fairly capable of looking after ourselves in most situations,tired of the humdrum life of Summer resorts. What's to prevent ourspending a couple of months together and finding some adventures? Ofcourse, we can't go to Africa and shoot lions and wart-hogs--whateverthey may be,--and we can't fit out an Arctic exploration party anddiscover Ingersoll Land or Bush Inlet or Chapman's Passage, but we couldhave a mighty good time, I'd say, and, even if we didn't have manyhair-breadth escapes, I'll bet it would beat chasing tennis balls anddoing the Australian crawl and keeping our white shoes and trousersclean!"

  "We could be as dirty as we liked!" sighed Perry ecstatically. "Lead meto it!"

  "It sounds positively fascinating," drawled Joe, "but just how would wego about it? My folks, for some unfathomable reason, think quite a lotof me, and I don't just see them letting me amble off like that;especially in--um--such disreputable company."

  "I should think they'd be glad to be rid of you for a Summer," saidPerry. "Anyhow, let's make believe it's possible, fellows, and talkabout it."

  "Why isn't it possible?" asked Steve. "My folks would raise objectionsas well as yours, Joe, but I guess I could fetch them around. After all,there's no more danger than in staying at home and trying to break yourneck driving an automobile sixty miles an hour. Let's really considerthe scheme, fellows. I'm in earnest. I want to do it. What Perry said isjust what I've been thinking without saying. Why, hang it, a fellowneeds something of the sort to teach him sense and give him experience.This thing of hanging around a hotel porch all Summer makes a regularmollycoddle of a fellow. I'm for revolt!"

  "Hear! Hear!" cried Perry enthusiastically. "Revolution! _A bas la_Summer Resort! _Viva_ Adventure!"

  "Shut up, idiot! Do you really mean it, Steve, or are you just talking?If you mean it, I'm with you to the last--um--drop of blood, old chap!I've always wanted to revolt about something, anyway. One of myancestors helped throw the English breakfast tea into Boston Harbour.But I don't want to get all het up about this unless there's reallysomething in it besides jabber."

  "We start the first day of July," replied Steve decisively.

  "Where for?"

  "That is the question, friends. Shall it be by land or sea?"

  "Land," said Joe.

  "Sea," said Perry.

  "The majority rules and I cast my vote with Perry. Adventures are morelikely to be found on the water, I think, and it's adventures we arelooking for."

  "But I always get seasick," objected Joe. "And when I'm seasick youcouldn't tempt me with any number of adventures. I simply--um--don'tseem to enthuse much at such times."

  "You can take a lemon with you," suggested Perry cheerfully. "Mygrandmother--"

  Joe shook his head. "They don't do you any good," he said sadly.

  "Don't they! My grandmother--"

  "Bother your grandmother! How do we go to sea, Steve? Swim or--or how?"

  "We get my father's cruiser," replied Steve simply. "She's aforty-footer and togged out like an ocean-liner. Has everything but aswimming-pool. She--"

  "Nix on the luxuries," interrupted Perry. "The simple life for me.Let's hire an old moth-eaten sailboat--"

  "Nothing doing, Sweet Youth! If I'm to risk my life on the heaving oceanI want something under me. Besides, being seasick is rotten enough,anyhow, without having to roll around in the cock-pit of a two-by-twicesailboat. That cruiser listens well, Steve, but--um--will papa fall forit? If it was my father--"

  "I think he will," answered Steve seriously. "Dad doesn't have muchchance to use the boat himself, and this Summer he's likely to be in thecity more than ever. The trouble is that the _Cockatoo_ is almost toobig for three of us to handle."

  "Oh, piffle!"

  "It's so, though. I know the boat, Perry. She's pretty big when it comesto making a landing or picking up a mooring. If we were all fairly goodseamen it might be all right, but I wouldn't want to try to handle the_Cockatoo_ without a couple of sailors aboard."

  "I once sailed a knockabout," said Perry.

  "And I had a great-grandfather who was a sea captain," offered Joeencouragingly. "What price great-grandfather?"

  "Don't see where your grandfather and Perry's grandmother come intothis," replied Steve. "How would it do if we gathered up two or threeother fellows? The _Cockatoo_ will accommodate six."

  "Who could we get?" asked Joe dubiously.

  "Neil Fairleigh, for one."

  "How about Han?" offered Joe.

  "Hanford always wants to boss everything," objected Perry.

  "He knows boats, though, and so does Neil," said Steve. "And they'reboth good fellows. That would make five of us, and five isn't too many.We can't afford to hire a cook, you know; at least, I can't; and someonewill have to look after that end of it. Who can cook?"

  "I can't!" Perry made the disclaimer with great satisfaction.

  "No more can I," said Joe cheerfully. "Let Neil be cook."

  "I guess we'll all have to take a try at it. I dare say any of us canfry an egg and make coffee; and you can buy almost everything ready toeat nowadays."

  "Tell you who's a whale of a cook," said Perry eagerly. "That's OssieBrazier. Remember the time we camped at Mirror Lake last Spring?Remember the flapjacks he made? M-mm!"

  "I didn't go," said Steve. "What sort of a chap is Brazier? I don't knowhim very well."

  "Well, Oscar's one of the sort who will do anything just as long as hethinks he doesn't have to," replied Joe. "If we could get him to comealong and tell him that he--um--simply must _not_ ask to do the cooking,why--there you are!"

  "Merely a matter of diplomacy," laughed Steve. "Well, we might haveBrazier instead of Hanford--or Neil."

  "Why not have them all if the boat will hold six?" asked Joe. "Seems tome the more we have the less each of us will have to do. I mean," hecontinued above the laughter, "that--um--a division of labour--"

  "We get you," said Perry. "But, say, I wish you'd stop talking about it,fellows. I'm going to be disappointed when I wake up and find it's onlya bright and gaudy dream."

  "It isn't a dream," answered Steve, "unless you say so. I'll go, andI'll guarantee to get the _Cockatoo_ without expense other than the costof running her. If you and Joe can get your folks to let you come, andwe can get hold of, say, two other decent chaps to fill the crew, why,we'll do it!"

  "Do you honestly mean it?" demanded Perry incredulously. "Gee, I'll getpermission if I have to--to go without it!"

  "How about you, Joe?"

  "Um--I guess I could manage it. How long would we be gone?"

  "A month. Two, if you like. Start the first of July, or as soon after aspossible, and get back in August."

  "How m
uch would it cost us?" inquired Perry. "I'm not a millionaire likeyou chaps."

  "Wouldn't want to say offhand. We'd have to figure that. That's anotherreason for filling the boat up, though. The more we have the lesseveryone's share of the expense will be."

  "Let's have the whole six, then, for money's scarce in my family thesedays. Let's make it a club, fellows. The Club of Six, or something ofthat sort. It sounds fine!"

  "Take in another fellow and call it The Lucky Seven," suggested Joe.

  "We might not be lucky, though," laughed Steve. "I'll tell you a bettername."

  "Shoot!"

  "The Adventure Club."