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Updated: May 23, 2025
Whistler had changed their course to bring the catboat nearer to the naval boat, which was slowing down. Torry leaped upon the low-decked cabin and began signaling by the semaphore code. In his blue uniform his body stood out clearly against the catboat's sail, and he was at once observed by the crew of the S. P. 888. "Whew! Look at that!" gasped Frenchy. "They are answering."
Patrick's piper that played the last snake out of Ireland!" was Frenchy Donahue's complaint, "it was holdin' a wake over you two fellers, we was, all the night long." "Where did you put in the night, anyway?" asked Whistler. "Say! we didn't have no more home than a rabbit," cried Ikey. "After we got ashore," began Frenchy, when Torry interrupted to ask: "How did you do that?
Rushing in from that watery world was a gray shape narrow, low-decked, with slight upperworks and a single stack. "A chaser!" cried Torry, finding his voice and growing excited. "She's aiming right this way," added Frenchy excitedly. Phil Morgan had his glass out again, and his lips unpuckered and the tune he had been monotoning died. "What do you make of her, Phil?" whispered Al Torrance.
Frenchy gave him a hand on one side and Ikey on the other; between them the trio hauled a ten-pound bass over the gunwale. Torry was dancing around in glee and shouting at the top of his voice. "Hush!" commanded Whistler. "You'll scare even the sharks and dogfish away." "Or you'll dance through the rotten old bottom boards of the boat and we'll have to walk ashore," added Frenchy.
But, perhaps because Abel had mentioned Mary's house, he noted the folk, bound thither, whom he was meeting: Ben Torry, with a basket, and his two boys beside him; August Muir, carrying his little girl and a basket, and his wife following with a basket. Ebenezer spoke to them, and after he had passed them he thought about them for a minute. "Quite little families," he thought.
Philip Morgan and Al Torrance both were in the yawl, and were assigned to pull oars if the engine went dead from any cause. The two younger Seacove boys were taken by the warrant officer, Mr. Mudge, aboard the buoyant raft. "Well, old man," muttered Torry in his mate's ear, "this is a new experience. We've never been shipwrecked before."
This time they did not take the Upper Road, but drove through the center of the little hamlet. The stores were open and there were lights in most of the cottages of the workmen. There were lively parties in all the long, barrack-like boarding houses. The town was wide awake. Torry brought the car to an abrupt stop before the brick office building of the munition works.
"You want these four boys, Skipper?" demanded the old fisherman. "That's what I do," said Ensign MacMasters. Then to the chums: "Come aboard, boys; I've news for you." "They been using my catboat," said Captain Bridger. "All right, Phil Morgan. You can go aboard. I'll take charge of the Sue. Got some right nice lookin' bass, ain't you?" "But you won't take charge of them!" Torry exclaimed.
I don't mean to deny, however, that intervention of some kind was inevitable; but the difficulties attending it were either overlooked or not foreseen, and the mode of dealing with them has consequently been unskilful. Continuing the Journal: October 5th. To Aiupthill. On the 17th to the Grove; Odo Russell there. 24th, to Torry Hill, with Christine and Hopie.
And they pick everything they need to know about our ship movements out of the air." "Too bad wireless was ever invented, then," grumbled Torry. "Six of one and half a dozen of the other," grinned Frenchy. "You bet our operators steal German messages." "It's likely.
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