Mystery on Graveyard Head. Edith Dorian
fog’s been slowing us like crazy, and the Abenaki’s no race horse at best.” He pointed at the jagged, weed-covered ledges stretching down into the Bay off Harpswell Neck. “Nasty things to pile up on,” he said soberly, “and the cruiser’s got plenty of them to worry her out behind Haskell Island.”
They went back to their job on the winch. Time was getting shorter. Now that the visibility was improving by the minute, Captain Pel had begun to drive the Abenaki hard through the heavy seas. The storm that had blown through the night and early morning had left the Bay in turmoil. Even in the shelter of the harbor, they had felt the force of the swells under their ship’s keel, and out here beyond the end of Potts Point she fought head on against the rising tide.
His father was holding their course straight out for deep water off Haskell, Steve noticed, as they finished their job and hurried forward to join the others around the wheel for a hasty lunch. Apparently he was calculating the effect of wind and tide on the cruiser’s drift.
Captain Pel nodded when he saw his son’s glance.
“There was no sense in working through the Gut and running along the outside shore,” he said. “That ‘ham’ thought the cruiser’s engines were dead so she’s more’n likely drifted up this way—if she isn’t hung up on a ledge somewhere.” He sounded troubled. “Tide’s turned and the weight of the wind’s behind it. There’ll be a sea off Haskell.”
Linda blinked at him. What did he call this? With the Abenaki pitching headlong, it didn’t seem like a duck pond to her. But when they finally ran out from the protection of the farthest headland, she knew what he had meant. The Abenaki stopped pitching and began to buck like a rodeo bronco. Then Steve gave a shout and she forgot the ship’s antics to race to the rail. Between the ragged ledges of Haskell Island and Haddock Rock, they had found the cruiser wallowing heavily, broadside to the incoming seas. Steve just made out the name and port across her stern as the Abenaki, engines throttled down, nosed into hailing distance.
“Delight, Palm Beach,” he said to Linda. “Great guns, she’s come a long way to find trouble!”
The four men aboard the Delight cheered them heartily. “Our second anchor, on chain, parted ten minutes ago.” It was the broad-shouldered man with the iron-gray hair who shouted to them. “Can you shoot us a line, Abenaki? We’re using a drag but we’re drifting in fast.”
Captain Pel nodded. “Stand by,” he called. “We’re dropping a cable in your bow.”
Braced in the stern, Steve waited while the Abenaki forged slowly ahead. Then, with one tremendous heave, he shoved the coiled ends of the heavy towing cables onto the deck of the cruiser and sprang down to take care of his end of the operations at the winch.
The gray-haired man smiled his thanks. “My name’s Sutton. Dr. Bartley Sutton.” He raised his voice as the water widened between the two boats. “We’re mighty grateful to you.” Lifting an arm in salute, he turned quickly away to lend his men a hand.
Steve knew that his father would idle the Abenaki’s engines as long as he dared, and he kept his eyes on the Delight’s crew, approvingly gauging their speed with the towlines. Every second counted now. At Captain Pel’s quiet orders, Dr. Cobb sent their engines inching ahead again and again to counteract their own drift, but with each wind-driven wave they could see the Delight roll perceptibly closer to the ledges. No improvised drag could possibly hold the big cruiser long in a sea as heavy as this. The four on the Purchas ship, waiting grimly for some word that the towlines were secured, felt ready to cheer when Dr. Sutton sprang into the Delight’s bow, signaling with his arms, and Captain Pel could get cautiously under way.
Steve and Linda stayed together in the stern, nursing the towing gear. Even a greenhorn like Linda could see that they were not out of trouble. If those towlines parted, their difficulties would start all over again; yet they had to haul the Delight clear of Haskell before there would be leeway to circle out for the return trip. Fighting the tide in a rough sea, with the heavy cruiser dragging, was slow, grueling work for the Abenaki. This was not like towing in the open sea with a long length of line paid out behind you. Here you had to shorten lines to keep your tow off the reefs, and the strain on the cables increased proportionately. Steve sat tense and tight-lipped, ready to shout a warning to his father, until the laboring Abenaki rounded the island and had wind and tide behind her to ease the cables’ strain.
“Look, we’re actually moving again!” Linda exclaimed. “I began to think this Bay was filled with glue.”
Steve grinned and relaxed a little. “Some job,” he said feelingly. “That’s what we get for being nearer than the Coast Guard this time. You pulled your weight, Linda. It was a smart idea to bring you along.”
The girl’s face flushed with pleasure. “At least I didn’t get seasick,” she said, laughing, “so I guess I passed your father’s test.”
They sat in companionable silence for a while. Behind them in the Delight, Dr. Sutton and his crew were spelling each other, two of them manning the towlines and two resting, turn and turn about. After their battle with high seas in the helpless cruiser, they were exhausted.
“I wonder who Dr. Sutton is,” Steve said finally. “One thing sure, he’s not starving, not with a plaything like that cruiser. I hope he sticks around long enough to let us get aboard.”
“Well, he can’t get very far till his engines are fixed,” Linda pointed out. “We’ve got him in our clutches for a few days anyway. I’ve always wanted to see a ship’s galley.”
Reminded of food, she rummaged around for the sandwiches she had put aside and set the open box between them. “There wasn’t any sense in passing these over to that cruiser,” she said, biting into deviled ham contentedly. “That man bringing out the coffeepot back there now must be the cook.”
“Could be,” Steve agreed. “Even the luxury liner behind us doesn’t need more than two in her crew when her owner’s his own skipper.” Again he eyed the big cruiser with admiration. “She’s a beauty all right.”
Eventually, the Abenaki worked her slow way past the tip of Harpswell Neck, and Captain Pel called Steve forward.
“Shorten those cables still more,” he told his son. “I’m not aiming to run foul of the Petticoat or the Delilah or any other craft in the harbor with that dancing tow. She’s as skittish as a porpoise. And stand by, Steve, in case of trouble.”
But the cruiser behaved like a lady, once Steve and the winch had worked her in closer, and they threaded their way through the harbor without any incidents.
Leaning out of his store window, Ed Randall waved cheerfully as they passed Town Landing; and in home waters, when they reached at last for their mooring, they could see Deborah Purchas flapping a dish towel in triumph on the back porch. The Delight was safe in port.
4 • Jude Farr’s Grandson
THE Purchas kitchen was fragrant with the buttery smell of lobster stew when the rescue crew came through the doorway, bringing Dr. Sutton with them. Mrs. Purchas, busy sliding pans of rolls into, the oven, stopped to greet their guests warmly.
“I’ve nearly worn the binoculars out watching for the Abenaki,” she said, smiling. “It’s good to know you’re safe. Supper will be ready by the time you’ve had a chance to catch your breath, and Wait Webber will be hobbling in to join us any minute. He’s been down at the boatshop a couple of hours.”
“With that foot!” Steve exclaimed disgustedly. “Is he crazy?”
His mother’s eyes twinkled. “He sounded pretty normal to me,” she admitted. “He spent fifteen minutes here in the kitchen sampling stew and taking doctors apart for the way they cramp your style with adhesive. He’s all right, Steve. There weren’t any bones broken. Dr. Littlefield dropped him off himself.”
She