The young volcano explorers

“We’ll all be drowned, I know we will!”

The remark came from Hockley. His teeth chattered so that he could scarcely speak.

“If there is any real danger I should think the captain would have the boats lowered,” said Mark, who, now that the first scare was over, was more calm than any of the other boys.

“Perhaps it is not as bad as we anticipated,” said the professor.

“Tie this life preserver on me, will you?” asked Hockley of Sam. He already had one preserver around his waist and now wanted this on his breast.

“All right,” replied Sam, and did as requested.

In the meantime all listened for the sound of another explosion. Would it come, and if it did, would it send them skyhigh? Certainly it was a moment of terrible suspense.

“I—I know we’ll go up,” chattered Hockley. “And we’re ever so far from land too!”

But they did not go up, nor did anything more in the nature of an explosion occur. The hissing of steam continued for fully five minutes and then stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

“I imagine the worst is over,” said Professor Strong, after a painful silence. “Unless I am mistaken that accident was nothing worse than the ripping open of some steam pipes. But it may have cost the life of a fireman, coal heaver, or engineer. If you will all remain here I will investigate.”

They promised to stay where they were and he left them, to be gone the best part of quarter of an hour. In the meantime quietness was restored on board, and some of the passengers went back to the cabin, which was now free of steam.

“It was as I surmised,” said the professor. “Two pipes burst and let out an immense amount of steam. One of the firemen had his leg scalded and an engineer had his left hand badly lacerated. They are now repairing the damage done, and they say that by morning we will be able to steam along the same as usual.”

“I’m glad to know it’s no worse,” observed Frank, while Hockley wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead. “But it’s queer the pipes should burst. They must be old.”

“The engineer says he told Captain Sudlip about the pipes needing repairs before we left La Guayra. But the captain put him off and told him that he would have the repairs made at Havana.”

“If that’s the case then that fireman and that engineer will have it in for him,” was Mark’s comment.

“And they ought to have it in for him,” came from Frank. “Those men might have been steamed to death, and we might have been blown up in the bargain.”

“Just what I say,” added Sam.

The rain soon cleared off and that evening the countless stars came out to brighten up the view of the sea. The boys made themselves easy on the deck, taking in the scene, the single exception being Hockley, who sat close to a cabin light, reading a novel he had picked up at a bookstall in La Guayra.

“Did you see that novel Glummy is reading?” said Sam to Frank, as he drew up his chair.

“I didn’t notice particularly. What is it, something deep?” And Frank smiled.

“Very deep,” went on Sam, disgustedly. “The title is ‘Pete Prankley, the Sassiest Boy in Sawtown; Or, Out for a Hundred Laughs a Day.’ Did you ever hear of such rot? I don’t see how Jake can read it.”

“That’s on a level with another book he was reading—at the hotel in Caracas. That was called ‘Gold Nose Hank, the Mine Discoverer; Or, The Whoop-Up at Stampede Hollow.’ Just for fun I looked through the book and made a note of the things that happened. Gold Nose Hank shot down three Indians, two road robbers and one government detective. His enemies fired forty-six shots at him but never touched him. He located nine gold mines, said to be worth fifteen million dollars, and saved the life of the girl five times, once from a stampede of cattle, once from the Indians, once from a road robber, and twice from drowning in a river which he afterward forded without getting his cartridge belt wet. And all that for ten cents.”

At this Sam burst into a merry laugh. “That author believed in giving his reader his money’s worth, didn’t he?”

“Glummy seems to have got a mania for that sort of a story lately. The professor once took a book away from him and burnt it up. But now Glummy puts the books out of sight as soon as he sees the professor coming.”

“If he keeps on he’ll be wanting to follow in the footsteps of Gold Nose Hank or Pete Prankley,” said Mark, who had listened to the talk. “If he does it will get him into trouble. He will find—listen!”

Mark stopped short, and all of the boys listened. From the forward deck of the steamer came a cry, as of sudden alarm. Silence followed.

“That was queer,” said Sam. “It sounded to me like January Jones’ voice.”

“It was January,” returned Frank. “He’s in some sort of trouble. Come on and see what it is.”

The three boys rushed forward, followed by Darry, the professor having gone to his stateroom to change his coat. At first they could not find the colored man, but presently located him near the forecastle. Beside him stood Captain Sudlip, a bit of an iron chain in his hand.

“That will teach you a lesson,” the captain of the Chester was saying. “You’ve needed it ever since you came on board.”

To this January Jones made no answer. He was wiping the blood from his nose and from a cut on his left hand.

“The captain has been striking that negro,” whispered Sam. “It is an outrage and I mean to tell him so.”

“Don’t do it, Beans,” cried Mark, catching him by the arm. “You’ll only get yourself into trouble.”

But Sam would not listen. He was ordinarily a quiet, studious boy, but now his stern New England sense of justice was aroused, and tearing himself loose he hurried up and confronted the master of the steamer.

“I think it’s a shame for you to strike this man,” he said, in a loud, clear voice. “I know you are the captain but I don’t think you have a right to abuse any of your crew.”

At this frank speech Jason Sudlip stared in open-mouthed astonishment. For the moment he fancied he had not heard aright.

“Why—er—what——” he began, and then his eyes blazed with sudden fury. “Get out of here!” he roared. “Get out, I say! If you don’t I’ll knock you down!”

His advance was so threatening that Sam put up his hands to defend himself. But he did not back away, and Captain Sudlip stopped when directly in front of the lad.

“Did you hear me?” he stormed. “I want you to get where you belong. I’ll treat this nigger as I please. By Jove, I think you need a good licking too!” And he raised the chain as if to strike.

But now Darry ranged up alongside of Sam. “If you fight, you’ll have to fight me too,” he declared. “He said it was a shame for you to abuse January Jones and it is. No decent captain would act as you are acting on this trip.”

If possible this declaration made Jason Sudlip more furious than ever. He was naturally of a vindictive nature and he glared at the boys as if he would like to “chew ’em” up.

Mark and Frank were not long in advancing as Darry had done, and the sight of the four boys, with their determined faces, caused Captain Sudlip to pause again. He glanced around, but in the semi-darkness of that portion of the deck no one was visible but the boys, January Jones and himself.

“Don’t you know you are carrying matters with a high hand, dictating to me on my own ship?” he demanded, in a slightly milder tone.

“I am not dictating to you,” replied Sam. “But if this man needs protection and I can aid him I will, that’s as sure as you stand there. I don’t know much about the sea, but I think the time has gone by when a captain can treat his crew like a lot of slaves.”

“Dat’s right, I ain’t no slabe no moah,” came from January Jones, who was beginning to pick up a little courage, now he saw he had so many to side with him.

“You keep quiet!” stormed the captain, shaking his fist at the colored man. “I’ll settle this with you at another time,” and then January Jones slunk back, fearful that he had “put his foot into it” worse than ever.

“Captain, I can’t see why we can’t settle this little affair in a friendly way,” said Mark, after an awkward pause. “We don’t want any trouble. If you’ll only treat that colored fellow as he should be treated, and continue to serve us with decent meals, there won’t be any cause for——”

“I don’t want any preaching from a boy!” interrupted the captain. “I know my business and I want you to mind yours.”

“All right, we will,” came from Darry. “But just the same, we are going to keep an eye on you so long as we remain on board. And if you do anything more that the law doesn’t allow you’ll hear from us; isn’t that so, fellows?”

A chorus of assent followed.

“I won’t talk to you further,” growled Captain Sudlip, and turning on his heel he started off. His direction was toward January Jones, and that individual lost no time in getting out ahead and disappearing to parts unknown.

“He is a brute and no mistake,” was Sam’s comment, when they were once more left to themselves. “I believe he would have half killed that darkey if we hadn’t come up.”

“Don’t worry but that the captain has it in for you,” came from Frank. “And in for Darry, too.”

“I guess he’d have it in for all of us—if he got the chance,” said Mark. “But we mustn’t give him the chance. In the future, while on shipboard, we had better keep together.” And on this the boys agreed.

When they returned to where the professor was sitting he asked them where they had gone so suddenly.

“Oh, we took a walk forward,” said Sam, carelessly, and then to stop further questioning asked Professor Strong how far he thought they were on their journey and when they would arrive at Kingston.

Hockley had finished his so-styled humorous book, and now came out to listen to what the crowd might have to say. But he was not interested and soon began to yawn.

“I’d rather sleep than sit out here gazing at nothing but stars and water,” he said, and shuffled off to his stateroom.

It was about an hour later when the professor and the boys also retired. Mark and Frank who, as told before, roomed together, had just undressed when there came a slight knock on the door.

“Who is it?” asked Mark.

“It’s me, sah,” came in the low voice of January Jones. “I dun stole down heah widout de cap’n knowing it.”

“Oh!” Mark opened the door several inches. “What can we do for you now, January?”

“Nuffin, sah, thank yo’, sah. I jess come down heah to thank yo’ fo’ what yo’ done fo’ me, sah. It was werry kind, dat was, sah. An’ I thought I’d tell you dat I ain’t a-gwine to stay on dis ship no longer dan I can help, sah. It ain’t good fo’ my constitution, sah, no, sah!”

“That’s right, it isn’t,” laughed Frank. “But you’ll have to stay on board until you strike land. Is that all?”

“Yes, sah. Thought I couldn’t go to sleep widout thankin’ yo’ sah, nohow. Please tell dem other gents, will yo’, sah?”

“We will.”

“Thank yo’, sah, much obliged, sah!”

And with these words January Jones sneaked off as noiselessly as he had come.