The Young Bridge-Tender | Page 3

to open the bridge."
"I haven't heard any horn," returned Ralph, as he dropped his rake and
ran up to look at the craft.
"Nor I. But the boat is heading for the draw."
"Perhaps it's one of those summer-boarder pleasure parties, that don't
know anything about blowing for a bridge tender," said the son, after a
few seconds of silence. "I'll go down and make sure."

Ralph was as good as his word. Leaving the door, he walked rapidly
along a footpath which led directly to the bridge, arriving there in less
than a minute and a half.
As he walked on the bridge a carriage from Eastport, containing several
ladies, came over. They paid the toll to Bob Sanderson, an old man
who helped Ralph in this way during the slack hours of the day. In
return for the work Sanderson was allowed an attic room and board at
the Nelson cottage.
"Sixteen cents since you went away, Ralph," said Sanderson, as he
handed over the amount in pennies. "Ain't many folks out this
morning."
"There will be more toward noon, Mr. Sanderson. Travel is always
light between nine and eleven."
"That's so. My! but there's a stiff breeze a-blowin', ain't there?"
"Yes. If it keeps on we'll have a regular gale by night."
"What brought you back so soon? I thought you was goin' to whitewash
your side fence?"
"I came down to see if that sloop wanted to go through. It's sailing right
for the draw."
"They didn't blow no horn."
"Perhaps they don't know enough for that. I declare! What's he up to
now?" went on Ralph, a second later.
He had espied a single man standing in the stern of the sloop. The man
had commenced to work at the mainsail, the managing of which
appeared to bother him not a little.
"He don't seem to know the ropes," returned Bob Sanderson. "I guess
he's tryin' to lower sail and can't."

"He is carrying too much canvas for this breeze."
"I agree with you, Ralph. But most of them chaps with sloops are a
daring set. They always want to sail at racing speed."
"He wants to go through that draw, that's certain," responded Ralph.
Going into the little house at the end of the bridge, he got out the key
and the handle-bar. He unlocked the chain which held the end of the
bridge in position, and then inserting the bar into the turnpost or
capstan, began to walk around with it.
Slowly but surely the bridge began to swing loose from the side which
connected with the permanent portion on the Eastport end and moved
toward the solid foundation which was built directly in front of where
the Nelson dooryard ran down to the water's edge.
It was hard work to move the bridge around, but Ralph was used to it,
and he did not mind. As he walked around with the bar before him he
kept his eyes on the sloop and the man sailing her.
The bridge was three-quarters open when the boy noted with some
surprise that the man on the sloop had thrown over the mainsail half
against the wind. Instantly the sloop began to swing around, heading
full for the stone pier upon which the bridge swung.
"Why, what's the matter with him?" he cried, in dismay.
"Guess he don't know how to manage his boat," replied Bob Sanderson.
"He's comin' chuck-a-block for this place!"
"Hi! hi! what are you up to?" cried Ralph, as he dropped the bar, and
rushed over to the side of the bridge. "Do you want to run into the
stonework?"
"I can't manage the sail!" replied the man on the sloop. "My arm is
lame, and the ropes are all twisted."
"Well, throw your tiller over, and be quick, or----"

Ralph had not time to say more, nor was the man able to profit by his
advice. An extra heavy puff of wind caught the mainsail of the boat,
and with a loud crash she clashed into the stone pier, bow first.
The shock was so great that the bowsprit was smashed to pieces, as was
also the woodwork around it. The man, who had been standing partly
on the stern sheets, was thrown overboard by the accident, and he
disappeared beneath the water.
Fearful that the fellow, who was evidently a city person, might not be
able to swim, Ralph leaped down from the bridge into the sloop and
went to his assistance.
"Save me! save me!" called out the man, frantically, and he threw his
hands up over his head.
"Catch hold of the boathook," replied Ralph, and he reached out with
the article as he spoke.
The man grasped the curved iron nervously, and Ralph at once drew
him to the