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But men were aloft, close-reefing, and preparing to furl the foretopsail, when a heavy sea struck the ship, and a sudden squall laid her over on her beam-ends almost. The sudden jerk carried away the topmast backstays. There was no rolling tackle on the topsailyard, which jerked violently as the ship fell over, and the mast snapped just above the parrell.
"Steady there," next sang out the captain. "Steady, my man!" "Aye, aye, sir," repeated the parrot-like Tom Parrell, bringing the helm amidships again. "Steady it is!" "By George, we're nearing the boat fast!" cried the skipper after another short pause, during which we had been going ahead full speed, with a quick "thump-thump, thump-thump" of the propeller and the water foaming past our bows.
"She's about three miles off, I think, sir." "All right," he shouted back to me. "Port your helm, there!" "Aye, aye, sir," repeated Parrell. "Port, sir, it is." "We're rising her fast now, sir," I called out after a short interval. "There's a man in the boat; yes, a man, sir. I can see him quite plainly now, and I'm sure I'm not mistaken!" "Are you quite sure, my lad?" "Quite sure, sir.
"Aye, aye, sir!" replied Masters promptly, keeping one eye on the skipper on the bridge and the other directed to the little craft we were approaching, and now close to our port bow. "We're all ready forrad, sir. Mind you don't run her down, sir. She's nearly under our forefoot." "All right, bo'sun," returned the skipper. "Port, Parrell!" "Port it is, sir," repeated Tom Parrell. "Two points off."
"Now down with it, Parrell!" sang out the skipper, bringing his hand instanter on the handle of the engine-room gong, which he sounded twice, directing those in charge below to reduce speed, while he hailed old Masters on the fo'c's'le. "Hi, bo'sun! Look-out there forrad with your rope's end to heave to the poor fellows! We're just coming alongside the boat."
He had put himself in touch with Disbrow, the political man of the Denver, Pueblo and Mojave road, and had had two interviews with him. The telegram that Annixter received that morning was to say that Disbrow had been bought over, and would adopt Parrell as the D., P. and M. candidate for Railroad Commissioner from the third district.
"Starboard, Parrell! Starboard a bit now!" "Aye, aye, sir," came again the helmsman's answering cry from the wheel- house. "Starboard it is, sir!" "Keep her so. A trifle more off. Steady!" "Steady it is, sir!"
"Steady amidship, there," sang out the skipper as the old barquey forged ahead once more. "Steady, my man." "Aye, aye, sir," answered the foremost hand, Parrell, who had come from the fo'c's'le to take the first "trick" at the steering wheel on the bridge. "Steady it is." "How does the boat bear now, Haldane?" "Two points off our starboard bow, sir," I replied to this hail of the skipper.
At the same moment, before the two craft had time to glide apart, both having way upon them, old Masters forward, and Parrell, the quartermaster, who was stationed in the waist of our vessel, just under the break of the poop, hooked on grapnels, with hawsers attached, to the weather rigging of the Saint Pierre; and ere the skipper's rallying cry and our answering cheer had died away, drowned by the voice of our escaping steam rushing up the funnels on the engines coming to a stop, now that their duty for the nonce was done, there we were moored hard and fast together, alongside the whilom dreaded "ghost-ship!"
Mother is to have a birthday a week from next Saturday, and we are going to celebrate it by giving her a surprise party consisting of hens, each family to bring one hen, Rhode Island Reds preferred, as we have Mr. Henry Cox and Mrs. Henrietta Cox already. Please ask Uncle Joe to come. He need not bring a separate hen, but can join in with you. Old Michael Parrell has them for sale.
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