Kitabı oku: «The Boy Scouts for Uncle Sam», sayfa 7

CHAPTER XX.
ON BOARD A STRANGE CRAFT

Once inside the main cabin Rob was thrust into a small stateroom opening off the larger apartment. He heard the lock click as the door was slammed to, and knew that he was a prisoner.

It was dark inside the cabin, but by feeling about he discovered a bunk on one side of the place. Critical as his situation was, the boy was so tired that he flung himself down on this, and, before long, while still pondering his quandary, he sank into a deep slumber.

When he awakened it was broad daylight. By the motion of the craft Rob knew that she was at sea. Getting up from the bunk he peered out of the small porthole of the stateroom. Outside nothing but the ocean was to be seen. Of course the boy had not the slightest idea where they were, or how long the boat had been running.

All he did know was that he was a prisoner, ravenously hungry, achingly thirsty and almost fagged out. His slumbers had been uneasy and had not refreshed him.

Outside he could hear voices in the larger cabin. Crawling to the keyhole he listened intently. Berghoff was talking. Rob heard enough to convince him that the plans of the band had been changed.

"There vill be a big hue undt cry ven dey findt oudt der boy is gone," declared Berghoff. "We must findt some place where we can stop till der excitement dies out."

"That's right, cap," agreed one of his companions, "but where can we go?"

"There are plenty of small islands further down the coast. One of those would suit our purpose," struck in another voice, which Rob recognized as that of the pallid-faced Gyp.

"Dot's a good idea," agreed Berghoff; "gedt out der chart and look one up."

The voice sank into inaudibility and Rob threw himself back on the bunk. At least he knew now what to expect, isolation and captivity with three desperate men. It would be wrong to say the lad was frightened. Possibly the very nature of his predicament had dulled his brain, as is sometimes the case.

"I wonder if they are looking for me now?" he mused, and with the thought came a glad realization that Merritt knew of the signals from the island and would inform the ensign of them.

"If they only follow me up quickly, maybe they can overtake this craft," he said to himself, "although she's a fast one."

At this juncture of Rob's cogitations the door was thrust open and Gyp entered with some food and water.

He placed them on the floor and started to leave the room in sullen silence, when Rob stopped him.

"What are you going to do with me?" he demanded.

"Don't ask no questions and you'll get told no lies," growled the man, slamming the door and relocking it on the outside.

"Well," thought Rob, "it's plain that I'm to be kept in the dark as to my fate. Well, it's no use worrying. I'll tackle this food and take a good long drink of water and then see if I can come to any conclusion."

The meal brightened Rob up wonderfully. After eating it he sat on the edge of the bunk casting about for something to keep his mind off his troubles, when he suddenly recollected the mysterious cipher found on the Good Hope.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled it out and began figuring with the stump of a pencil on the back of an old envelope. But ingenious as he was, he found it hard to decipher. He tried half a dozen well-known systems on it and was about to give up in despair when he recalled the "Letter" method of reading cryptic numeral ciphers.

This system requires the operator to figure out the recurrence of different numerals and the order in which they appear. Rob noticed that the number 5 occurred most frequently. Now E is the most used letter in any bit of English writing, so the lad set down 5 as answering for E.

After this he figured industriously till he had managed to make something like sense out of the first paragraph of the old writing.

It would be wearisome to take the matter step by step in all its details. Suffice it to say, therefore, that Rob found that he had hit on a correct system and at the end of two hours had the following message before him.

"It is buried twenty-four paces from dead cypress and to the west. The island lies in long. 80 degrees 50 minutes and lat. 33 degrees 24 minutes. To whoever finds this and reads it, I will the ivory. Death is close to me now. Good bye to all."

When his task had been completed, Rob sat gazing at the paper before him. Unquestionably it gave the location of the dead whaler's cache. For an instant the boy thought, with a thrill, that he was within reach of a fortune. But the next moment he recalled where he was, which, in the interest of his task, he had forgotten. Then, too, he remembered that the dead man's two companions who marooned him on his own ship had probably carried out their intention of returning and carrying off the precious hoard.

"So that's all of that," mused the boy, "but just the same, if I ever get out of this scrape, I mean to hunt up that island and see if I can locate the fate of those mammoth tusks."

All day the boat moved swiftly along, and it was not till the following morning that anchor was dropped, as Rob knew by feeling the motion of the craft stopped, and by hearing the rattle of the anchor chain.

"I wonder what is going to happen to me now?" he mused.

He had not long to wait.

"Come out on deck and help us row the dinghy ashore," Gyp muttered as he unlocked the door.

Heartily glad to get out of his cramped quarters, Rob obeyed.

Coming on deck he found Berghoff and Mike already there. The former had a formidable-looking revolver strapped on him. The boat was lying off a small, sandy island, isolated from the others, in one of the groups that are common on that part of the coast.

It was wooded and appeared to be a fine spot for Berghoff's purpose of remaining in seclusion till Rob's friends gave him up for lost, and the mystery of his capture blew over.

The dinghy, which hung on the davits astern, was lowered, and Rob roughly told to "pile in and row us ashore." He obeyed the order, noticing that in the boat were tent and camping supplies. Evidently these had been placed in it before he was called on deck.

His heart sank as he observed these preparations for an extended stay on the lonely island. Once ashore, he was forced to help in putting up the tent, building a fire and doing other jobs to make the camp habitable. Then, without food, he was set to chopping wood. After a hasty meal, Berghoff disappeared, leaving Rob guarded by Gyp and Mike, who lay at full length smoking lazily while he worked.

When Berghoff returned he announced that there was no trace of humanity on the island. With this statement vanished Rob's last hope of help. He had nourished a secret aspiration that there might be some campers or fishermen living on the place.

When the sun set that night Rob's feelings were down to zero. The very fact that he was not closely watched seemed to prove to him the utter impossibility of his escaping. True, there was the boat, but that had been drawn up on the beach by his wily captors so that it would be impossible for him to move it without attracting their attention.

CHAPTER XXI.
OFF ON A SEA TRAIL

As minutes and then hours elapsed and Rob did not return, Merritt became first anxious, and then seriously alarmed. He knew Rob's daring nature, and had a keen fear that it might have led him into doing something reckless.

It was almost dawn when he at length determined to return to the encampment and seek out Ensign Hargreaves. By the time he had tramped back over the sandy dunes day was breaking, and in the camp of the Boy Scouts the notes of the morning bugle were ringing out cheerily. The first of the Scouts to note Merritt's return was Donald Grant.

He came running toward him, and then stopped short as he noted the other's drawn, tired face.

"Why, what in the world's the matter with you, Merry?" he gasped out. "You look as if you'd been drawn through a knothole. Where's Rob? Where have you been all night?"

"I'll explain that later," said Merritt wearily; "just now I've got to find Ensign Hargreaves. Rob's either been kidnapped or lost."

He hastened on, leaving the other lad rooted to the spot with amazement and alarm. He knew Merritt well enough already to realize that the other was not the sort of lad to overrate a situation. If Merritt was as scared and weary as he looked, something serious indeed must have taken place.

In the meantime Merritt hastened to Ensign Hargreaves' tent. Hastily arousing him, he hurriedly explained the whole matter. The officer was out of his cot in an instant.

"You had no business to go off alone like that without notifying me," he exclaimed rather sharply. "Don't you know that the first duty of a soldier, a sailor or a scout is to obey orders?"

Merritt crimsoned and hung his head. He knew that the officer was right.

"We thought we were doing a good thing," he said, "but I know now that we did wrong in not notifying you."

The ensign's hand fell on the lad's shoulder. Then kindly enough he said:

"Well, acknowledging that you did wrong is a manly thing, my boy, and we'll say no more about the matter. But about Rob, something must be done right away. Arouse Mr. Barr while I am dressing and we'll set about searching for him at once. There's little doubt in my mind but that he is on that island where you saw the signals flying."

"But how could he get there unless he had an airship?" inquired Merritt.

"Hasn't it occurred to you that he might have hidden in the boat while the men were out of it?"

"Gracious! In that case he may be their prisoner by this time!"

"I am afraid that there is little doubt of that. We must get after the rascals at once."

By the time the ensign was dressed, Mr. Barr was also attired, and the two immediately began a discussion of plans for the rescue of Rob. But first the ensign wanted to know about Barton.

It was hard for Mr. Barr to believe that the man whom he trusted implicitly could have proved traitor to him.

"The best way to find that out is to look at your papers and models and see if anything is missing," was the response.

"I'll do so; but I'm sure the boys must be mistaken in Barton. He has worked for me for many years."

"Possibly the large price he was offered to turn over the plans of the Peacemaker had something to do with it," suggested Merritt.

"Perhaps; but I'll not say anything till I find out definitely that something is missing."

Mr. Barr hastened off toward the shed, but returned before long with a countenance filled with apprehension.

"My most important blue prints and models are missing!" he exclaimed.

The ensign made a dry grimace.

"Our young friends were right," he said. "In detecting the rascal they have done an excellent piece of scouting work. But now let us hurry off in search of Rob at once."

"How will you reach that other island?" asked Merritt.

"We will go in the motor boat. She is fast and does not draw much water."

"Can we all go along?"

"No, we'll take one of my sailors, your chum Donald, Tubby Hopkins, you and myself. We haven't settled accounts with Barton yet, and I don't want him left practically alone on the island."

"Do you think he would try to harm the submarine?"

"I think it likely. He has probably been paid to injure it so that the rival power that is working against us can construct its submarines first."

"But you are going to make him confess?"

"If he will, yes. If not, he faces a long prison term, although it will be hard to prove that he actually stole the papers and models."

"But we saw him answering those signals, and then again, last night we saw him meet the men."

"I'm afraid that wouldn't make very good evidence in a court of law," was the rejoinder. "But enough of this now. Tell Hawkins (one of the sailors) to get the boat ready, and hurry through your breakfast We'll start right afterward."

"We can't start too quick for me," was the brisk reply. "Poor old Rob, I wonder what has happened to him."

While he ate a hasty meal Merritt outlined to the other Scouts what had happened. Following this, Ensign Hargreaves announced a change of his plans. He had decided, he said, to take Barton along, not caring to leave the man on the island.

"He is clever and dangerous," he said, "and I want him under my eye till I have decided how to dispose of his case."

"You are not going to let him know you suspect him?" asked Merritt.

"For the present, no. As to what I shall do in the future, I have not yet made up my mind."

Ten minutes later a black motor boat shot out of the little inlet in which she had been moored. As she sped seaward, making for the other island, those left behind set up the cry of the Eagle and Wolf patrols.

Barton, looking sullen and suspicious, was at the engines. He knew the object of the trip, but, of course, had no knowledge that his part in it was suspected. Nor did any of the party show him by looks or words that so much as a breath of suspicion attached to him. This was by the orders of Ensign Hargreaves, who had determined to give the fellow plenty of rope.

As the Viper, as the black motor boat was called, raced over the water, Merritt found himself gloomily contemplating the future. If anything serious had happened to Rob, he felt that he would be in a measure responsible for allowing the young leader of the Eagles to go off alone.

CHAPTER XXII.
A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE

Half an hour after her start, the Viper glided alongside the island from which Merritt had seen the signals go up the afternoon before. He could not forbear to take a glance at Barton as the ensign ordered the engines stopped.

The machinist was stooping over the motor to hide his agitation; but by the trembling of his hands Merritt could tell that the fellow was apprehensive of something that might involve himself. As soon as the anchor dropped, the motor boat's dinghy was drawn up alongside and the ensign and Merritt boarded it. The others were left on board the Viper with whispered orders from the officer to watch Barton's every move. The island was a small one, and from its highest point it was possible to see all around it. To Merritt's bitter disappointment, however, no sign of another motor boat was in sight. Their quarry had flown.

"There's but one thing to do," declared the ensign; "we must make for that small hut over yonder and search it thoroughly. It may yield a clue of some kind."

A short walk brought them to the hut which had been the scene of the stirring events of the preceding night. Hardly had they entered the door before Merritt gave a start of surprise and a swift exclamation.

"Look! Look there!" he cried. "There's Rob's hat!"

Sure enough, lying in a corner was the boy leader's campaign hat, which he had lost in the scuffle with Mike and Gyp.

"Well, that shows conclusively enough that he was here last night, and from that upset table and the general look of things, I should imagine there had been a pretty lively scrap here," commented the ensign.

"But where can Rob be now?"

"Probably fearing discovery if they remained here, the men who have taken the plans and the models carried him off, too."

"How will it ever be possible to obtain a clew as to where they have gone?"

The ensign's answer appeared enigmatical.

"Could you describe the motor boat you saw off here yesterday?"

"Well, she was of a very remarkable color – a light green, with a signal mast sticking up amidships. Then, too, her cabin was unusually high."

"Good. Such a boat as that ought not to be very hard to locate."

"I don't quite understand."

"Well, then I'll explain. These waters are fairly well traveled, and by working our wireless we may be able to get into communication with some boat similarly equipped, which may have seen that green motor boat."

"Cracky, that's a good idea," cried the admiring boy; "let's go back and try it at once."

"Yes, it's small use our waiting about here. The rascals overreached us by getting away as quick as possible. I suppose they didn't want to run any chances of discovery."

The return to the Viper was quickly made, and the motor boat was driven back to the Submarine Island at top speed. Barton tried with all his might to overhear what was said in the bow of the boat where the Boy Scouts had gathered; but the ensign was careful to keep his voice low, and then, too, the noise of the engines precluded the machinist from catching a word, hard as he strained his ears.

Under the tutoring of Hiram Nelson, the wireless scout, the others had all become fair operators. It was agreed that day and night one of them should be at the apparatus, seeking for news of the green motor boat.

It was the ensign's opinion that the craft would not put into a port immediately, fearing a hue and cry, but would cruise about or hide in some little frequented part of the coast. But he hoped that if the wireless "caught" some vessel that had spoken to her, he could at least obtain a line on which direction she had taken.

The first "session" at the wireless was taken by Hiram, then came the others in rotation; but when at ten o'clock that night Donald, who had learned wireless on his father's yacht, came on duty, there had come no word from the air of a green motor boat. Several ships had been spoken to, but not one reported anything to give the boys hope.

"Well, good-night, old man," said Merritt, as Donald, who relieved him, came on duty, "and good luck."

"I'll keep a good watch out, all right," was the earnest response. "It's our only way to get poor old Rob back."

"I'm afraid so," sighed Merritt, leaving the place with a despondent air. As Donald had said, it was a chance – but what a long, seemingly hopeless one!

Donald, left alone, began sending out calls, and every little while he paused for an answer out of space to his appeals. As he pressed the sending key the blue, lithe spark leaped and crackled between its points like a fiery snake. Then all would become silent again as he listened for an answer to his call.

Once he caught a steamer bound north and carried on quite a conversation with its operator. He felt quite lonesome when he closed down his sending apparatus with a parting "good-bye."

It was very still about the encampment. So still, in fact, that the boy began to feel more and more lonesome. He longed for someone to talk to; but he knew that chance would not come till Tubby, his relief, appeared.

The stout youth was almost due when Donald suddenly got into communication with a steamer called the Cambria, bound north from New Orleans to New York. He put his customary query about the green motor boat.

"A green motor boat?" came back the reply.

"Yes," flashed Donald.

"With one signal mast and a high cabin?"

"Yes! yes," shot out Donald, pounding the key excitedly. "Have you seen such a craft?"

"We sighted her this evening."

The boy's fingers shook as he wrote down the reply with flying pencil on the scratch pad at his elbow.

"Down off some islands about Lat. 80 deg., Long. 33 deg.," came the answer. "She was coming straight toward us and then all of a sudden she headed away. Seemed like she didn't want to get near us. Is that all?"

"Yes; good-bye, and thank you," flashed back Donald exultantly.

His fingers had hardly left the key before he was startled by a soft footfall behind him.

The boy wheeled like a flash and then almost fell off his chair. Facing him, with an ugly-looking revolver in his hand, was Barton, the machinist.

There was a mean sneer on his sinister face as he snarled out:

"Let me see that message and let me see it quick."

"I've got no message for you," responded Donald, determined not to let the man know that he had information of the green motor boat's whereabouts.

"That's a lie," snarled Barton; "don't monkey with me. I've got this gun and, jingo, I know how to use it, too."

CHAPTER XXIII.
THE DEPTHS OF OLD OCEAN

Just as Donald, who was no match physically for the burly machinist, was pondering what to do, the door which was open became filled by a rotund figure.

It was Tubby.

In a jiffy he took in the scene, the threatening attitude of Barton, the alarmed look of Donald, who stood staring at the revolver like a bird fascinated by a snake. Tubby realized that it was no time for thinking the situation over. Instead, he crouched low, and then, darting forward with surprising agility, he seized the machinist around the legs before the fellow knew what was happening.

Taken utterly by surprise, and borne off his feet by Tubby's rush, Barton came crashing to the floor in a heap. As he fell the revolver exploded, the bullet passing by Donald's head.

Barton struggled desperately with Tubby, but the stout youth held on to him like a leech, at the same time yelling for help. In a few seconds the ensign and Mr. Barr came rushing in, followed by the Boy Scouts and the sailors. There was an end to the battle then and there. After a brief resistance Barton, snarling and cursing, was tied hand and foot, and the ensign ordered him locked up in the dining room shed for the present.

Donald soon told his story and proudly exhibited the message from the air which told of sighting the green motor boat. All agreed that it was a cheering bit of news.

"If they were near a lot of islands when sighted, it is most probable that they are hiding on one of the group. At all events, having the latitude and longitude, it will be easy to go down there and see."

"What are you going to do about Barton? We have full proof of his villainy now," struck in Merritt.

"I suppose we shall have to take him along with us. We can't waste time going ashore now and risking the law's delays. We will go down the coast in the submarine with the Viper acting as escort, and Barton a prisoner on the Peacemaker," decided the ensign.

"I wonder why he was so anxious to see that message?" spoke Tubby.

"I guess he knew we were trying to trace the green motor boat, and was watching the wireless through that window. When he saw Donald busy taking a message, he guessed what it was, and decided that it was necessary for him to see it," hazarded Mr. Barr. "How I have been deceived in the rascal!"

"You certainly have. His actions show him to be a scoundrel of the worst type," agreed the ensign.

There was not much more sleep for anybody that night. Excitement ran far too high for that. An attempt was made to force Barton to confess his part in the conspiracy, but he sullenly refused to talk.

"You've got nothing on me," was all he would vouchsafe. "Anything those tin soldier kids tell you is patched up out of whole cloth."

Slumber being out of the question, the rest of the night was devoted to stocking both craft with food and water in good quantities. In this work the Scouts helped with a will. They were aided by the three sailors, who were to be left behind to guard the island, and therefore did not work any too hard.

Dawn found all in readiness, and at the summons of the bugle all lined up before Ensign Hargreaves to receive their orders. To the submarine were assigned Merritt and Donald, besides Mr. Barr, Ensign Hargreaves, and the prisoner Barton. The Viper's crew was captained by Tubby, a capable motor boat engineer, and Hiram and the others. When this had been done, Barton was led before Ensign Hargreaves.

"Barton," said he sternly, "you have acted the part of a scoundrel and should be behind the bars now. But I need you for work, and upon the manner in which you perform it, will depend just how severe your punishment will be. Cast him loose, men, and take him into the engine room of the submarine. You are to stand by for orders."

"I'll try to do my best, sir," rejoined Barton in a soft tone of voice, very unusual for him. "I'm sorry, sir, for what I did, but I was led astray by promises of money."

This change in the man was almost startling. From a sullen, morose fellow he had suddenly, or so it seemed, become a dutiful, attentive man, willing to obey orders and do his best. Was all this genuine? We shall have to go further to see.

There being no excuse for delay, and as all were anxious to get off as quickly as possible, the two craft were boarded. The hatch of the submarine was left open for the present, for it was the intention of the ensign to run "awash," as it is called.

The motor boat running very nearly as fast as the submarine, they kept each other company down the coast with little difficulty. It was fine, exciting sport in the motor boat as it cut its way over the swells, hurling spray and water out to either side of its sharp bow. If only the boys had had Rob with them, they would have enjoyed it much more, though.

All that was visible of the submarine was the top of her conning tower, and the slender, needle-like "eye" of the periscope. The water surged round her conning tower as she rushed along, for all the world like some sea monster speeding on an errand of destruction. She was not going full speed, for the ensign wished to keep company with the motor boat.

At noon, just as the lads on the motor boat were settling down to lunch cooked on a blue-flame stove, a head was thrust out of the conning tower. It was that of Mr. Barr.

"We are going to run under the surface in a short time," he said; "just follow your same course, and you'll pick us up when we rise again."

"All right," shouted Tubby, his mouth full of ham sandwich, which he held in one hand, while with the other he clasped a big wedge of pie.

The hatch on top of the conning tower closed shortly after with a metallic "clang." The next instant the craft vanished from view in a swirl of water. For a time the tip of the periscope tube, which was twenty-five feet long, projected above the surface; then that, too, vanished, and the motor boat was alone on the ocean.

On board the submarine the lads were enjoying themselves as much as their fellow Scouts on the motor boat. This second experience was even more novel and enjoyable than their first dive. Mr. Barr sat in the cabin reading some scientific works. Barton, seemingly a changed character, was at work in the engine room. The negro cook was in the galley, while in the conning tower the ensign was giving Donald and Merritt a lesson in handling a diving craft.

In fact, it was Merritt who was at the deflecting apparatus when the occupants of Tubby's boat saw the submarine sink.

"That is the descending lever and this the ascending one," explained the officer before Merritt sent the boat under the surface.

The levers were small affairs and looked fragile for the work they did of starting up the mighty pumps that caused the boat to rise or sink at will.

"What if one of them should break or be lost?" asked Donald.

"Well, if we were under water and the ascending lever happened to be missing, we should be in an awkward position, and I don't believe that Mr. Barr carries an extra one."

"Gracious! Then if the lever was lost we should have to stay at the bottom of the sea?"

"That's about the size of it," was the reply.

Mr. Barr, coming into the conning tower just then, confirmed the officer's suspicion that no extra lever was carried.

"I admit there ought to be one as a matter of precaution," he said, "but we were in such a hurry to give the boat her tests that we forgot about it."

All the afternoon the submarine ran under the water, rising about sunset to the surface. In the distance was the motor boat, but far in the rear. The Peacemaker was sent around in circle and soon came alongside her companion craft.

Then the hatchway was opened and the ensign shouted some orders to Tubby. The submarine was going to dive once more, but would come up before dark. When night fell a red light would be carried astern which the motor craft was to follow throughout the night. When this had been made clear, the Peacemaker dived once more, but this time it had been decided to send her down to a good depth.

"We will eat an early supper under water just for the novelty of it," declared Mr. Barr.

While the meal was going forward Barton was sent into the conning tower to navigate the craft. He obeyed with the same smooth complacence with which he had received every order since his attack on Donald. Evidently the man was hoping, by good behavior, to save himself from a long jail sentence.

After supper Barton was relieved, and Merritt sent to the wheel in his place. He had been in the conning tower but a short time when he was joined by Ensign Hargreaves and Mr. Barr.

"I guess we'll go to the surface now," said the inventor; "it must be almost dark up above."

Merritt reached for the lever that operated the ascending pumps. Right then he received the most acute and alarming shock of his life.

There was no lever there!

"It's gone!" he shouted.

"What? What's gone?" repeated the inventor in a puzzled tone.

"The lever! The ascending lever! We can't rise to the surface without it."

The inventor turned pale. Drops of sweat stood out on his forehead. Even the ensign turned a shade whiter than usual.

If the lever could not be discovered, they were doomed to an awful death in the depths of the sea!