Motion Picture Story Magazine (Aug 1911-Jan 1912)

50 THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE But he couldn't reconcile himself to being smothered by the dust of defeat. Now that his dream had touched on the probable, his mind quickened to practical ways of realizing it. It took but a few moments' brooding to decide him to sneak aboard The Dauntless and stow himself away. He had read and had been told dozens of times how it was done. He would need a supply of food to last him several days, until that dramatic moment when he should appear on deck, to the astonishment of the ship's company. Thrilling with anticipation, he threw away the despised papers and rushed into a dingy restaurant, where he spent all the money he had on pie and sandwiches. Hastening back to the wharf, he slipped behind a pile of cases and watched his chance. At last there came a moment when the captain, the mate and the men were all busy on the far side of the boat. The watchman's back was turned. Quietly and swiftly the boy crossed the gang-plank and let himself down the first open hatch. He whisked out of sight only just in time to escape the mate and the crew, who came down the deck getting everything ship-shape for sailing. The mate gave the order to batten down hatches, and Jack found himself suddenly plunged into absolute darkness as the hatch was slammed down and bolted. The hours passed. Jack drowsed. When he awoke he ate some of his pie and sandwiches. But he had forgot m I T^mjttti 1 i JACK THE STOWAWAY ten to provide himself with water, and he began to suffer from thirst. But, rather than risk being put ashore, he would endure to the point of exhaustion. He had no means of calculating time, and he had spent three wretched days in that dark, fetid hole before his misery goaded him into attempting to attract attention. He picked up a plank and pounded with it against the deck. There was no answer. Again and again, at intervals of hours, he desperately attacked the hatch, but no sound came to him, and he fell back, exhausted and hopeless. On the third day out, as the captain and the mate were standing amidships, the latter suddenly bent his ear toward the deck, with the wondering query, "What is that noise?" The captain listened, but could hear nothing. The following day they again stopped at the same spot. This time the captain started as if he heard something. ' ' There it is again ! ' ' exclaimed the mate. "It sounds like knocking." "Bos'n, pipe the watch amidships ! ' ' ordered the captain. The boatswain blew his whistle, bringing the men on the run. The captain commanded them to remove the hatch. After peering into the dark hole thus exposed, the mate leaped down. He reappeared with Jack, white and limp, in his arms. The boy opened his eyes, tried to stand, but crumpled up on the deck. "Why, I'll be hanged!" burst out the captain. "That's the kid that asked me to take him aboard! You cussed little wharf-rat — do you suppose I'm carrying grub 'round the world for you to gnaw at? I've a darn good mind to toss you overboard ! I '11 show you if I mean ' no ' when I say it ! " He raised his arm and started for the boy as if to strike him. Before his fist could descend, a little figure rushed up to him, and a child's silvery voice interrupted the string of epithets issuing from the captain's lips. "Please, daddy, dont strike that little boy ! He looks so sick ! ' '