Chapter IX: Official Permission

The story told by the stranger did not differ materially from that which the cook had imagined after seeing the overturned gunning-skiff.

The young gentleman, Francis P. Bradford by name, had been paddling around the shore, keeping well within the shadow of the rocks in the hope of getting a good bag of wild ducks when they settled upon the water at sunset. He had begun the voyage from a point two miles or more distant, and approached in such manner that the men who were on watch could not have seen him.

The shallow skiff, which Sam Hardy declared very emphatically “was little better than an egg-shell,” had run upon a submerged rock, and, the swell arising at that instant, overset her, throwing the sportsman into the water.

Encumbered as he was by heavy clothing, and being by no means a skilful swimmer, the sportsman could do no more than keep himself afloat, while the boat was driven by the wind farther and farther from the shore.

Knowing that a life-saving station was near at hand, he shouted for help; but, as has been said, it was impossible to make any very loud outcry, and, rapidly becoming exhausted, he believed death was inevitable until there suddenly appeared on the bluff, to use his own words, “what looked to be a ball of white cotton blown along by the wind.”

“I had no idea it was a dog,” he said continuing the story, “until the fluffy object straightened itself out and began barking shrilly. I am certain the little fellow understood my plight, for when some person called him he ran back a few paces, and then returned yelping and howling until one would have said there was danger the volume of sound would cause him to explode like an overcharged boiler.”

Benny’s eyes sparkled with delight as young Bradford continued to praise Fluff; but an expression of dissatisfaction came over his face when the sportsman declared his intention of leaving with Keeper Downey a sum of money to be expended in purchasing food and dainties for the animal that had been the means of saving his life.

“What’s the matter, Benny?” Sam asked, noting the look on the boy’s face.

“It won’t do at all, sir,” and Benny spoke very decidedly. “Fluff wouldn’t like to be paid for such a thing as that, I’m certain, and besides, if, as Mr. Cushing says, he is a member of the crew, then it’s his business to save life if he can, without thinking of taking money for it.”

“I’ll guarantee that the idea of money never came into Fluff C. Foster’s head!” Sam Hardy cried, laughing heartily. “You see, lad, what Mr. Bradford proposes is to give the dog a reward, and that any life-saver is entitled to if it be offered voluntarily.”

“It would please me if the gentleman wouldn’t leave money for Fluff,” Benny insisted. “It don’t seem right to take it for doing anything of the kind.”

From that moment Mr. Bradford ceased to press the matter; but later in the evening he had a long conversation with Tom Downey, and those who accidentally overheard scraps of the conversation understood that the keeper was telling Benny’s pitiful story.

Fluff was not interested in anything which was taking place around him. The feast of sugar which Joe Cushing had set out was so tempting and so delicious that he gave heed to nothing else.

When the sweet repast had come to an end, however, the dog was petted by first one and then another of the crew as he had never been before, and Benny said laughingly, as he took the little fellow in his arms fully half an hour before the usual time for retiring.

“Fluff will grow so proud that he’ll be spoiled if all hands praise him in this fashion. He’d better go to bed, and I’ll make him understand that it was no more than his duty to bark when he saw Mr. Bradford in the water.”

Then the boy and the dog disappeared for the night, and after he had left the room the life savers and their guest held a long consultation of a business nature, which was to be kept a profound secret from Benny and Fluff until all the details had been carried into effect.

On the following morning immediately after breakfast, Mr. Bradford left the station for the purpose of hiring some one of the farmers nearby to carry him into the city.

Very gravely he thanked Benny for the great service which had been rendered him by Fluff, urging the boy to promise that he would apply to him if at any time in the future he should need assistance.

To this the lad agreed, and when the gentleman had taken his departure said confidentially to Sam Hardy:

“If Fluff and I are to be surfmen we shan’t be obliged to beg from anyone, and I’d a good deal rather earn what we need than have it given us.”

“Well, lad, it shall go your way, and I like the idea you’ve got in mind. Whether you and Fluff will be able to cut much of a figure as surfmen is a matter which needn’t trouble us just now, for I’ll guarantee you don’t come to want while this crew holds together.”

Benny went about his regular duties as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, and Fluff, believing himself safe from any attack by Maje, ran to and fro over the snow-covered rocks until his pink feet were chilled by the frost, when he returned and, standing before his master, held up first one and then the other with a low whine which told of his discomfort.

The cook placed a chair near the stove, and, despite Benny’s protestations, insisted that Fluff should occupy it whenever he had been so foolish as to stay out of doors until thoroughly chilled.

“You have no business to play on the rocks while it is so cold,” Benny said reprovingly, addressing himself to the dog.

“It’s the nature of dogs and boys to be foolish at times, Benny, and since they can’t be expected to have better sense we must do whatever we can to repair the mischief. Therefore Fluff C. Foster sits right there until he’s comfortable once more. There’s nothing to be done around the kitchen for the next two or three hours, and seein’ how you and the dog are bent on being surfmen, now is the chance to learn the duties of a crew when there’s a wreck off shore, as in the case of the _Three Brothers_. Every man needs have in his head the manœuvres to be performed at such a time, and it’s all set down here in the regulations under the head of ‘Station Bill.’”

“What do you mean by that, sir?” Benny asked as he took the book from the cook’s outstretched hand.

“It shows the station of each man after the beach-wagon is on the shore ready for business. You know that every member of the crew has a number. Sam Hardy is 1; Joe Cushing, 2; Robbins, 3; Sawyer, 4, and so on. Here, under the same numbers that the men answer to, is set down exactly what must be done, with a few remarks to follow. Now, since all that must be repeated at drill, it would be a good idea if you stowed it away in your head.”

Benny began to read eagerly, understanding that if he had been familiar with all this information when the _Three Brothers_ went ashore he possibly might have been of more assistance, and until the cook called him to assist in the work of preparing dinner he read and re-read the following lines:

“No. 1. Place gun in position; provide and load with shot; train the gun; bend the shot-line around the whip inside block; tend the left part of the whip; hold the hawser for No. 2 to bend on the whip; overhaul back of the whip, and, if to leeward, unbend ends and bend outer end into traveller-block; if to windward, snap traveller-block onto hawser, and bend outer end of whip into traveller-block; man fall and left leg of crotch.

“No. 2. Place shot-line box in position; bend shot-line into shot; train the gun; take a half-hitch with shot-line over tail of whip-block; tend right part of whip; bend the lee part of whip onto hawser; overhaul back whip, and, if to leeward, unbend ends and bend inner end into traveller-block; if to windward, snap traveller-block onto hawser and bend inner end of whip into travelling-block; man fall and right leg of crotch.

“No. 3. Place shot-line box in position; stretch tackle (outer block); haul left part of whip from reel; if to windward, reeve end of whip through sand-anchor block; otherwise, bend ends of whip together; man weather part of whip when sending off the hawser; haul in slack of hawser; put on strap for outer block of tackle; man fall, left leg of crotch, and am shifting man on the whip.

“No. 4. Unload buoy from cart; place crotch, hawser, and buoy in position; stretch tackle (inner block); haul right part of whip from reel; if to windward, reeve end of whip through sand-anchor block; otherwise, bend ends of whip together; man weather part of whip when sending off the hawser; haul in slack of hawser; hook on outer block of tackle; man fall, right leg of crotch, and am shifting man on the whip.

“No. 5. Unload and bury sand-anchor; man the weather part of whip when overhauling off the reel and sending off the hawser; haul in the slack of the hawser and make a cat’s-paw in the end; man fall; belay fall, and am shifting man on the whip.

“No. 6. Unload and bury sand-anchor; man the weather part of the whip when overhauling off the reel; lighten the hawser to captain; snatch bight of hawser into sand-anchor block; haul in slack of hawser; hook inner block of tackle into cat’s-paw; man fall, centre of crotch, and am shifting man on the whip.

“No. 7. Unload shovel and pick; assist to bury sand-anchor; man the weather part of whip when overhauling off the reel and sending off the hawser; haul in slack of hawser; man fall, centre of crotch, and am shifting man on the whip.

“The exercise must be considered as a whole, and when a man has performed one duty he will proceed to execute the next assigned him. All must work together. While the captain, 1, and 2 are opening communication with the gun and shot-line, 3, 4, 5, and 6 will have the hawser and its connections ready for sending off and hauling taut.

“When practising, as soon as the gun is discharged, 6 will go to the pole representing the wreck and haul off and make fast the whip and hawser; unless some other person willing to perform that duty is present, 4 throws the buoy off the cart that it may not interfere with removing the gun from the cart.

“If through carelessness the shot-line has been faked too tightly upon the pins, instead of forcing it off the pins by the bottom board, which is liable to split, raise the frame and remove a few of the bottom fakes with the hand, when the remainder will fall off into its place in the box.

“The sand-anchor must be opened, its sides at right angles to each other, and buried upon its flat in a narrow trench of sufficient depth, say two feet, and the trench filled in solidly about the anchor.

“In many instances, after communication is made with the wreck, as many as two or three hundred yards of shot-line will be left in the box. The captain must be governed by circumstances as to the best method of handling the surplus line. If there is no danger of the wreck going to pieces, spare line may be hauled on board the wreck, the shore end being bent around the whip; but where great haste is necessary it must be cut.

“Bending the bight of the shot-line around the whip is not recommended, as the portion inshore is liable to foul the whip.

“Cases may occur when, instead of unreeling the whole whip from the reel, both parts of the whip must be cut as soon as the whip-block is fast on board the wreck. Keepers must act with promptness in such cases, remembering that everything must be sacrificed to save life.

“The point where the hawser is bent into the ship must be as far as possible outside of where the ends of the whip are bent together, in order that when the hawser reaches the wreck the whip bend will be well inshore, out of the reach of the shipwrecked people, for should they, through excitement or ignorance, cast that off instead of the hawser, communication would be broken and much delay result.

“The whip should be worked moderately slack, unless extreme cold or drifting ice makes it necessary that it should be kept out of the water.

“Instances may occur when the wreck is breaking up rapidly, and there is not sufficient time to send off the whip and hawser, or the crew are too much exhausted to haul the gear off. In such cases, after communication is made by means of the shot-line, cut the shot-line, and bend the shore end onto a single part of the whip; when the end of the whip has reached the wreck, bend the bight of the whip into the slings of the buoy (block removed), and let the buoy be pulled off through the surf to the wreck.”

Benny was an apt pupil, and before nightfall could repeat word for word more than one-half of the Station Bill. It was his purpose to commit it all to memory, but he was interrupted in the task late in the afternoon by the return of Joe Cushing from the post-office, and it was such a noisy home-coming that every member of the crew knew what he brought.

All save the lookout were in the building engaged upon various trifling duties, when a series of yells from the outside brought the men to their feet, and Sam Hardy cried:

“That’s Joe Cushing! He’s brought the mail, and you can count for a certainty that in it is the answer from headquarters in regard to Benny.”

Even Keeper Downey found it difficult to remain calm, for that Sam had guessed correctly could be told by the Indian yells to which Joe was giving vent, and it is little wonder that the crew, instead of waiting for his entrance, went to the door to meet him, realizing as they did that in a few moments would be known the views of the Superintendent regarding the taking on of this new member.

Joe was coming at full speed, holding high above his head the official-looking envelope, and, as if believing his comrades had not been warned regarding the importance of what he brought, he shouted:

“Here’s the answer from the Department! It has been about as much as I could do to keep myself from opening it.”

Tom Downey stretched out his hand, and there was just a shadow of anxiety to be seen on his face as he took the missive.

The crew gathered around him; but Benny, trembling with apprehension, stood a short distance away holding Fluff in his arms.

“If it should be that we’ve got to go away now when things are fixed so nice, we’d be awful sorry, Fluffy; but we’ll try not to let the crew know we’re feeling bad,” he whispered to the dog while keeping his eyes fixed upon Sam Hardy.

Tom Downey was too impatient to permit of his reading carefully the communication from the Chief of the Service. He first glanced quickly over the letter, catching a word here and there, until understanding the proposition, when he cried joyously:

“It’s all right, boys! Benny’s entitled to stay here so long as we pay his bills!”

“I knew the Superintendent wasn’t the kind of a man that would turn a cold shoulder on a lad like him,” Sam Hardy said approvingly; and patting Benny on the head, he added, “Now, lad, you’re regularly one of us, seein’ how you’re here by authority, an’ I’ll venture to say that before spring comes you’ll have the drill at your tongue and fingers’ ends with the best of us.”

Benny, burying his face in Fluff’s silken hair, whispered to the dog:

“We’re awful lucky, Fluff, and we’ll make sure the crew won’t feel sorry because of helping us.”

“Ain’t crying when good news has come, are you, lad?” Sam asked, raising the boy’s chin until he could look into his face.

“Indeed, I’m not, Mr. Hardy. I just wanted to remind Fluff so he’d never forget it, that we was bound to work mighty hard to pay all hands of you for being so good.”

“I reckon that part of it will be all right, my son. We’re gettin’ full value for all we give.”

That which added to Benny’s pleasure was the fact that from the keeper to the cook, every member of the crew exhibited the liveliest joy because he was allowed to remain at the station, and an evening never to be forgotten by the lad was this which followed the receipt of the letter from headquarters.

Half a dozen times over was Tom Downey called upon to read the communication from their Chief, and if it be true that a person’s right ear tingles when good is spoken of them, the Superintendent of the Life-Saving Service must have been surprised because of the warmth of that organ.

Even amid the general rejoicing Benny found opportunity to study the _Regulations_ and observing him at this work Sam Hardy proposed that Keeper Downey write an additional paragraph to the Station Bill.

“Benny must have a regular duty, and we’ll call him No. 8. Set down exactly what part he is to play, an’ let him learn it with the rest.”

That night when Benny, with Fluff in his arms, stood on the threshold to bid his kindly guardians a “good-night,” all hands replied in concert:

“Good-night, No. 8.”

“That means Fluff as well as me,” Benny cried with a laugh, and as he laid down to sleep that night “No. 8” was an exceedingly happy boy.

On the following morning Benny had a serious proposition to make Sam Hardy, and after his portion of the morning’s work had been done he called the surfman aside.

“I want to ask a favor of you, Mr. Hardy.”

“Well, lad, what is it?”

“All hands call me No. 8, so that proves I’m regularly one of the crew, don’t it?”

“Of course it does, Benny.”

“Then I should have some regular work.”

“So you have, my lad. You’re doin’ as much now as the cook, an’ some of the boys are beginnin’ to think you can take his place next season.”

“My work in the kitchen don’t count. It’s only enough to take up the spare time. What I mean is, I ought to have a share in all that the crew does.”

“What are you drivin’ at, Benny? Suppose you talk it right out plain, an’ then I’ll understand the quicker.”

“It’s this, Mr. Hardy: I want to go on patrol duty with you every night, no matter what time you start out.”

“Now look here, Benny, there are some nights when that’s precious hard work, and almost any time in the winter it’s no joke to turn out, say about midnight, an’ walk this blooming shore four hours.”

“I know that, sir; but yet it will toughen me to do it, and after a spell I won’t mind it any more’n you do.”

“But what’s your idea in doin’ such work?”

“I want to grow into so much of a surfman that I can see at night the same as you do. When the _Three Brothers_ was sighted I couldn’t make her out at all.”

“It’s trainin’ your eyes you’re after, eh?”

“Yes, sir, perhaps that’s what you could call it.”

“Well, I’ll talk with Downey, and see what he thinks of the scheme, although I’m willing to say right up an’ down now that I don’t just like it. The job is too rough for a little chap like you.”

“I must get hardened to bad weather, and the cold, and all that sort of thing if I’m goin’ to stay in the life-saving service.”

Sam turned away with a laugh, and not until evening did he make any reply to the request.

Then, when the hour was near at hand for him to go on patrol, he said, speaking to all hands, including Fluff’s master:

“Benny claims the right to do patrol duty, if he’s No. 8 in this ’ere crew, an’ the keeper has given permission for him to act as my apprentice, exceptin’ when the weather is too rough. Therefore, Mr. Benjamin H. Foster, you’ll make ready for a four hours’ turn, and the thermometer is standin’ well down to zero. If this night’s work don’t give you a different idea of what it’s fitting a lad should do; then I’ll say there’ll be no use in our tryin’ to keep you out of the Service.”

If Benny suffered from the cold during this four hours’ tramp, Sam Hardy was none the wiser regarding it, for he held the pace regardless of rough ways or banks of snow, plodding sturdily by the surfman’s side throughout the entire time. But it was observed by Sam Hardy that on their return to the station he went immediately to bed, and next morning, in relating the experiences of the previous night to the keeper privately, Sam added:

“He’s all grit, that lad is, an’ when he’s older grown I allow he’ll be an ornament to this ’ere station.”

The cook declared, after dinner had been eaten and the apartments set to rights, that it was necessary for Keeper Downey to issue a positive order preventing No. 8 from doing more than his share of the work, and Benny, his face crimsoning with pleasure, would have turned the conversation into some other channel.

“I mean what I say,” the cook added emphatically. “There’s to be a regular Kitchen Station Bill made out for you, else before many days I’ll find myself idle. So let it be understood, No. 8, that you’re only to do so much of the work as belongs to your part, and in the future you and Fluff C. Foster will have longer loafin’ spells. If you study the _Regulations_ after dark, I reckon it will be enough.”

Tom Downey had begun questioning the cook as to what share of the work Benny really did, when the noise of bells was heard outside, and a moment later came a knock at the door followed almost immediately by the entrance of Mr. Bradford--he whom, as the crew claimed, Fluff had rescued from drowning.

He greeted the men cheerily; had a kindly word for Benny; but took Fluff in his arms petting him affectionately.

“I wasn’t satisfied with leaving matters as they were day before yesterday, so far as this little fellow was concerned,” he said, addressing himself to Keeper Downey. “But for the dog I should have been drowned, and as Benny refused me the satisfaction of repaying Fluff, I claim the right to bestow upon him what the government would award either of you for a timely rescue of life.”

While speaking he had drawn from his pocket a daintily fashioned silver collar to which was attached a small gold token.

“It is a medal of honor made from a coin, and inscribed: ‘To Fluff C. Foster for having saved the life of Francis P. Bradford, January 2, 1894.’ That much I am entitled to give, regardless of what the dog’s master may think, and I only hope it may be in my power at some future time to bestow upon Benny a more substantial token of regard.”

Mr. Bradford handed the collar and medal to the boy as he ceased speaking, and the latter gazed alternately at the gift and the dog, who was sitting bolt upright on his hind legs as if begging to be told the cause of this sudden commotion.

“Well?” Sam Hardy said interrogatively as Benny remained silent. “Well, No. 8, ain’t there anything more to it? The dog is coaxin’ you to thank the gentleman.”

“I know he is, Mr. Hardy; but how can I do it?” Benny replied with a long-drawn sigh of delight. “It’s splendid, though it ain’t none too good for a dog like Fluff, an’ I’d rather he’d have this than all the money in the world. Just to think!” and the lad turned to address the entire crew. “Fluff has got a regular life-saving medal.”

“It’s a big thing,” Keeper Downey replied with a nod of satisfaction, “an’, what’s more, Fluff is the only one of this crew that has won such a distinction.”

“If anything was needed, after the letter from the Superintendent, to show that he an’ I were members of the crew, this would be enough, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s as good as a commission from the Treasury Department,” Joe Cushing replied gravely.

“If you would like to make the change, I can buy you something, instead of spending so much money for the dog,” Mr. Bradford said, with a meaning glance at the men. “It will be an easy matter to exchange the collar and medal for cheaper metal, and give you the difference.”

“Take this away from Fluff?” Benny cried in alarm. “Why, I wouldn’t have it done for the world! Now I’m a regular member of this crew I don’t need anything, an’ even if I did, he should have the best, because he’s the one who saved your life, an’ I’ll get a heap of pleasure out of looking at it.”

“I have also sent out here ten pounds of sugar in lumps, so that you may remind him of me at least once every day,” Mr. Bradford said, apparently getting as much pleasure out of the presentation as did Benny, “and because of thus rewarding Fluff, I want you to do me a favor.”

“What is it, sir?” Benny asked in surprise.

“I want the privilege of giving you a full suit of clothes. Here is an order on a tailor, who will make whatever you may decide upon.”

While speaking the gentleman had pressed into Benny’s hand a slip of paper, and before the lad could reply Sam Hardy cried in delight:

“Of course No. 8 will do you the favor of takin’ it, an’, what’s more, it’s a mighty lucky thing for him. Here he has just been made a member of the crew, but hasn’t got a uniform to wear when he goes into the city. That order, Mr. Bradford, is just the ticket, and with Fluff C. Foster rigged out in a solid silver collar with a gold medal of honor, and Benjamin H. Foster in a regulation suit, brass buttons an’ all, this ’ere station will blossom out in regular shape.”

Benny was won by the idea of wearing a uniform like his comrades; but he looked toward Mr. Downey as if asking his permission to accept the gift.

“Take it, my lad, and thank the gentleman by so doing,” the keeper said with a smile. “What’s more, you shall go into the city with Sam Hardy to-morrow morning and be measured for the uniform.”

There was a wondrously bright gleam in Benny’s eyes as, taking the dog suddenly in his arms, he said to the generous visitor:

“We thank you awfully much, Mr. Bradford, an’ you may be sure Fluff will never do anything to make you ashamed of having given him such a beautiful collar and medal.”