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CHAPTER XXVII.
A STRANGE WRECK

"Well, boys, we got here just in time," observed Mr. Billings, as the boat cut through the water.

"I'm not so sure that we have arrived in time to avert a tragedy," said Jack, and he told of the shooting that he had witnessed.

"Probably a mutiny," said Mr. Billings, with the voice of experience. "The crews on those old tramps are the riff-raff of a hundred ports. Bad men to handle in an emergency."

He had hardly finished speaking when, borne toward them on the wind, which was setting from the burning, sinking ship, came a most appalling uproar. It sounded like the shrieks of hundreds of passing souls mingled with deep roars and screeches.

Even Mr. Billings turned a shade paler under his tan.

"In the name of heaven what was that?" he exclaimed.

As he spoke a huge tawny form was seen to climb upon the rail of the rusty old steamer and then launch itself into the sea with a mighty roar.

"A lion!" exclaimed Jack, "by all that's wonderful, a lion."

"That explains the mystery of those noises and the predicament of those poor fellows crowded on the stern away from the boats," said Mr. Billings, who had quite regained his self-possession.

"But – but I don't understand," said Jack.

"That ship has a cargo of wild animals on board," explained Mr. Billings. "Such shipments are regularly made from Hamburg, her hailing port, to America. Most probably she had lions, tigers, leopards, great serpents and other animals on board. When her bow was stove in a number of cages were smashed and the wild beasts escaped."

"That accounts for the shooting I saw, then," exclaimed Jack; "they must have been firing from the raised stern at the animals which menaced them on the main deck."

"Unquestionably. I am glad I brought my own shooting iron," said Mr. Billings. "I packed it along in case we had trouble with a mutinous crew."

They were now close to the blazing ship. The heat and odor of the flames were clearly felt.

"We'll have to pull around on the weather side," decided Mr. Brown. "If we come up under the wind, we'd all be scorched before we could effect any rescues.

"Pull round the stern, my lads," he ordered.

"Aye, aye, sir," came in a deep-throated chorus from the crew.

As the four boats made under the stern, white, anxious faces looked down on them.

"Thank heaven you've come!" exclaimed the captain, whose haggard countenance showed all that he had been through. "We're just about at our last ditch. The animals we were taking from Jamrachs, in Hamburg, for an American circus, broke loose after the collision with the derelict. They've killed two of my men and maimed another."

"All right, my hearties, just hold on a minute and we'll have you out of that," exclaimed Mr. Billings cheerfully.

More roars and screeches from the loosened animals checked him. Then came more shots, telling of an attack on the stern, the only cool part of the ship left, which had been repulsed. The flames shot up, seeming to reach to the sky, and the smoke blotted out the sun, enveloping everything in the burning ship's vicinity in a sort of twilight.

"Do you think we'll be able to get all of them off?" asked Jack eagerly.

"I'm in hopes that we will," said Mr. Billings, "if nothing untoward happens."

There was, Jack noticed, a shade of anxiety in the young officer's tone. There was, then, some peril, of which he knew nothing as yet, attached to the enterprise, thought Jack. But of the nature of the danger he had no guess till later.

As the first boat, Mr. Billings' craft, drew alongside the blistering side of the burning ship, a Jacob's ladder came snaking down from the stern. At almost the same moment Jack, who had been looking upward, uttered a shout of alarm.

The fierce face of a wild beast had suddenly appeared above the rail of the blazing Oriana. The next instant a great lithe, striped body streaked through the air straight for the boat. Instinctively Jack, who saw the huge form of the tiger, for that was the desperate flame-maddened creature that had made the jump, sprang for the side of the boat and dived overboard.

He was not a second too soon. The tiger struck the side of the boat in the stern just where Jack had been sitting a fragment of a minute before. The boat heeled over as the great beast, mad with terror, clawed at its sides with its fore-paws and endeavored to climb in. Mr. Billings, pale but firm, whipped out his revolver with an untrembling hand while the men, utterly unnerved, dropped their oars and shouted with alarm.

Bang! The tiger gave a struggle that almost capsized the boat. Then, suddenly, its claws relaxed their hold and it slid into the water, limp and lifeless, shot between the eyes. But where was Jack? The question just occurred to Mr. Billings when, looking up suddenly, he saw something that made him yell a swift order at the top of his lungs.

"Row for your lives, men, row. She's going to blow up!"

CHAPTER XXVIII.
CAST AWAY WITH A PYTHON

When Jack dived overboard he was so unnerved by the sudden apparition of the fear-frenzied tiger that he rose some distance back of the boat. He came to the surface just in time to see the slaying of the animal and hear Mr. Billings' sharp cry of warning.

Before he could attract attention the boats were all pulling at top speed from the burning ship.

"She's going to blow up!" the words etched themselves on Jack's brain with the rapidity of a photographic plate.

He saw a convulsive tremor shake the big steel fabric and the despairing shouts of the men in the stern rang in his ears. At the same moment he dived and began swimming with all his strength away from the doomed ship. Suddenly came a shock that even under water seemed to drive his ear-drums in.

Then he felt himself seized as if in a giant's grip and dragged down, down, down. His vision grew scarlet. His heart beat as if it must burst from his frame and his entire body felt as if it was being cruelly compressed in a monster vise. Jack knew what had occurred: the boilers of the Oriana had blown up and he was being carried down by the suction of the hull as it sank.

Just as he felt that he could no longer endure the strain, the dragging sensation ceased. Like a stone from a catapult Jack was projected up again to the surface of the sea. The sky, the ocean, everything burned red as flame as he regained the blessed air and sucked it in in great lungfulls.

For a moment or so he was actually unconscious. Then, as his normal functions returned, and his sight grew less blurred, he made out a hatch floating not far from him. He struck out for this and clambered upon it. The sea was strewn with the wreckage of the explosion. Beams, skylights, even charred and blistered metal liferafts floated all about him. But these did not engross Jack's attention for long after he had cast his gaze in the direction where the Oriana last lay. There he encountered an extraordinary sight.

On the surface of the ocean floated the stern section of the sunken steamer. To it still clung the occupants that he had last seen there. Jack rubbed his eyes and looked and looked again. Yes, there was no doubt about it, the after part of the Oriana was still afloat, although how long it would remain so it was impossible to say.

Jack guessed, and as it afterward transpired, guessed correctly, that the watertight bulkhead doors, which had automatically been closed all over the ship when the collision occurred, were sustaining the stern fragment of the ship on the surface. This part of the Oriana, unharmed by the explosion or the collision, was now floating much as a corked bottle might be expected to do, excepting, of course, that there was a marked list to the drifting fragment.1

Jack now saw the scattered boats returning to the scene. The man in command of each was urging the crews on with voice and gesture. Not one had been harmed, but it was a narrow escape. Jack set up a shout, but apparently, in the excitement of racing for the floating stern part of the Oriana, he was unnoticed. However, this did not alarm him, for he was sure of being able to attract attention before long.

A sudden lurch of the hatchway on which he was drifting, and the sound of a slithering motion as of some heavy body being dragged along some rough surface, made him turn his head.

What he saw made him almost lose his grip on the hatchway.

The hideous flat head and wicked eyes of a huge python faced him. The great snake, escaping somehow from the catastrophe to the menagerie ship, had swum for the same refuge Jack had chosen. Now it was dragging its brilliantly mottled body, as thick as a man's thigh, up upon the hatchway. The floating "raft" dipped under the great snake's weight, while Jack, literally petrified with horror, watched without motion or outcry.

But apparently the snake was too badly stunned by the explosion to be inclined for mischief. It coiled its great body compactly in gay-colored folds on the hatch and lay still. But Jack noticed that its mottled eyes never left his figure.

"Gracious, I can't stand this much longer," thought Jack.

He looked about him for another bit of wreckage to which he might swim and be free of his unpleasant neighbor. But the débris had all drifted far apart by this time and his limbs felt too stiffened by his involuntary dive to the depths of the ocean for him to attempt a long swim.

Not far off he could see the boats busily transferring the castaways of the Oriana on board. Supposing they pulled away from the scene without seeing him? Undoubtedly, they deemed him lost and would not make a search for him. Warmly as the sun beat down, Jack felt a chill that turned his blood to ice-water run over him at the thought. Left to drift on the broad Atlantic with a serpent for a companion and without a weapon with which to defend himself. The thought was maddening and he resolutely put it from him.

So far the great snake had lain somnolently, but now, as the sun began to warm its body, Jack saw the brilliantly colored folds begin to writhe and move. It suddenly appeared to become aware of him and raised its flat, spade-shaped head above its coils.

Its tongue darted in and out of its red mouth viciously. Jack became conscious of a strong smell of musk, the characteristic odor of serpents.

His mouth went dry with fear, although he was naturally a brave lad, as we know. A dreadful fascination seemed to hold him in thrall. He could not have moved a muscle if his life, as he believed it did, depended on his escape. The hideous head began to sway rhythmically in a sort of dance. Still Jack could not take his eyes from that swaying head and darting red tongue. A species of hypnotic spell fell over him. He heard nothing and saw nothing but the swaying snake.

All at once the head shot forward. With a wild yell Jack, out of his trance at last, fell backward off the hatch into the water. At the same instant Mr. Billings' pistol spoke. Again and again he fired it till the great snake's threshing form lay still in death. Unwilling to give Jack up for lost, although he feared in his heart that this was the case, the third officer would not leave the scene till all hope was exhausted. Sweeping the vicinity with his glasses, he had spied the impending tragedy on the hatch.

Full speed had been made to the rescue at once and, as we know, aid arrived in the nick of time. As Jack rose sputtering to the surface strong hands pulled him into the boat. He was told what had happened.

"A narrow escape," said Mr. Billings, beside whom sat Captain Sanders of the lost steamer. He looked the picture of woe.

"I owe my life to you, Mr. Billings," burst out Jack, holding out his hand.

The seaman took it in his rough brown palm.

"That's all right, my lad," he said. "Maybe you'll do as much for me some day."

And then, as if ashamed even of this display of emotion, he bawled out in his roughest voice:

"Give way there, bullies! Don't sit dreaming! Bend your backs!"

As the boats flew back toward where the great bulk of the Columbia, her rails lined with eager passengers, rested immobile on the surface of the ocean, the castaway captain turned a glance backward to the stern of his ship, which was still floating but settling and sinking fast. It was easy to guess what his thoughts were.

"That's one of the tragedies of the sea," thought Jack.

CHAPTER XXIX.
CAPTURED BY RADIO

It was two days later and they were nearing Southampton, but the stop they had made to aid the Oriana's crew had given the Britisher a big lead on them. The passengers eagerly clustered to read Jack's wireless bulletin from the other ship which was posted every day. Excitement ran high.

Jack had seen no more of Professor Dusenberry, but he had spent a good deal of leisure time pondering over the code message the queer little dried up man had sent. Raynor, who had quite a genius for such things, and spent much time solving the puzzles in magazines and periodicals, helped him. But they did not make much progress.

Suddenly, however, the night before they were due to reach Southampton, Jack was sitting staring at the message when, without warning, as such things sometimes will, the real sense of the message leaped at him from the page.

"Meet me at three on the paving stones, the weather is fine but got no specimens, there is no suspicion as you have directed but I'm afraid wrong."

Taking every fourth word from the dispatch then, it read as follows:

"Three stones. Fine specimens. Suspicion directed wrong."

Jack sat staring like one bewitched as the amazingly simple cipher revealed itself in a flash after his hours of study. Granted he had struck the right solution, the message was illuminating enough. Professor Dusenberry was a dangerous crook, instead of the harmless old "crank" the passengers had taken him for, and his cipher message was to a confederate.

But on second thought Jack was inclined to believe that it was merely a coincidence that placing together every fourth word of the jumbled message made a dispatch having a perfectly understandable bearing on the jewel theft. It was impossible to believe that Professor Dusenberry, mild and self-effacing, could have had a hand in the attack on the diamond merchant. Jack was sorely perplexed.

He was still puzzling over the matter when the object of his thoughts appeared in his usual timid manner. He wished to send another dispatch, he said. While he wrote it out Jack studied the mild, almost benevolent features of the man known as Prof. Dusenberry.

"But there's one test," he thought to himself. "If the 'fourth word' test applies to this dispatch also, the Professor is a criminal, of a dangerous type, in disguise. But he contrived to glance carelessly over the dispatch when the professor handed it to him and fumbled in his pocket for a wallet with which to pay for it. Not till the seemingly mild old man had shuffled out did Jack apply his test to it. The message read as follows:

"Columbia fast as motor-boat, watch her in Southampton. Am well and will no more time throw away on fake life-preserver."

F.

With fingers that actually trembled, Jack wrote down every fourth word. Here is the result he obtained:

"Motorboat Southampton. Will throw life-preserver."

"By the great horn-spoon," exclaimed Jack to himself, "it worked out like a charm. But still, what am I going to do? I can't go to the captain with no more evidence than this. He would not order the man detained. I have it!" he cried, after a moment of deep reflection. "The Southampton detectives have been already wirelessed about the crime and are going to board the ship. I'll flash them another message, telling them of the plan to drop the jewels overboard in a life-preserver so that they will float till the motor-boat picks them up."

Jack first, however, sent the supposed Prof. Dusenberry's message through to London, with which he was now in touch. He noted it was to the same address as before, that of a Mr. Jeremy Pottler, 38 South Totting Road, W. Then he summoned the Southampton station, and, before long, a messenger brought to the police authorities there a dispatch that caused a great deal of excitement. He had just finished doing this when Jack's attention was attracted by the re-entrance of the professor.

He wanted to look over the dispatch he had sent again, he said, but Jack noticed that his eyes, singularly keen behind his spectacles, swept the table swiftly as if in search of something. The abstract that Jack had made of the cipher dispatch lay in plain view. Jack hastily swept it out of sight by an apparently careless movement. But he felt the professor's eyes fixed on him keenly.

But if Prof. Dusenberry had observed anything he said nothing. He merely remarked that the dispatch appeared to be all right and walked out again in his peculiar shambling way.

"The old fox suspects something," thought Jack. "I wonder if he saw that little translation I took the liberty of making of his dispatch. If he did, he must have known that I smelled a rat."

Just then Raynor dropped in on his way on watch.

"Well, we're in to-morrow, Jack," he said, "but I'm afraid the Britisher will beat us out."

"I'm afraid so, too," responded Jack. "Their operator has been crowing over me all day. But at any rate it was in a good cause."

"Yes, and they're taking up a subscription for the shipwrecked men at the concert to-night, I hear, so that they won't land destitute."

"That's good; but say, Bill, you're off watch to-morrow and I want you to do something for me."

"Anything you say."

"This may involve danger."

"Great Scott, you talk like Sherlock Holmes or a dime novel. What's up?"

"I've got the man who stole those diamonds."

"What!"

"Don't talk so loud. I mean what I say. Listen."

And Jack related everything that had occurred.

"Now, what I want you to do is to watch Prof. Dusenberry, as he calls himself, to-morrow when we get into the harbor. His is an inside stateroom so that he can't throw it out of a porthole from there. He'll most likely go to one at the end of a passage."

"Yes, and then what?"

"I'd do it myself but the old fox suspects me, I half fancy, and if he saw me in the vicinity he'd change his plans. You'd better take two of your huskiest firemen with you, Billy. He's an ugly customer, I fancy, and might put up a bad fight."

"U-m-m-m, some job," mused Billy. "Why don't you put the whole thing up to the captain?"

"It would do no good the way things are now, and he might get wind of it and hide the jewels so that they couldn't be found. Anyhow, we've no proof against him till he is actually caught throwing the jewels out in that life-preserver to his confederates in the motor-boat."

"I see, you want to catch him red-handed, but what about those cipher radios?"

"There's no way of proving that I read the cipher right," said Jack. "Our only way is to do as I suggested."

"I hear that Rosenstein has offered a big reward for the recovery of the diamonds," said Billy. "He's up and about again, you know."

"Well, Billy, I think he'll have his diamonds back by to-morrow noon if we follow out my plan."

And so it was arranged. The next morning Jack received a message from Southampton:

"All ready. Does our man suspect anything?"

This was Jack's answer:

"Not so far as I know. Have a plan to catch him red-handed. You watch the motor-boat."

Saluted by the whistles of a hundred water craft, the Columbia made stately progress into Southampton harbor. As her leviathan bulk moved majestically along under reduced speed, her whistles blowing and her flag dipping in acknowledgment of the greeting, Jack with a beating heart, stood on the upper deck watching earnestly for developments.

He knew that Billy and the two firemen he had selected to help him, on what might prove a dangerous job, were below watching Prof. Dusenberry. They all wore stewards' uniforms so that the man who Jack believed struck down the diamond merchant and stole the stones might not get suspicious at seeing them about in the corridors.

"I believe they must have changed their plans, after all," Jack was thinking when, from the shore, there shot out, at tremendous speed, a sharp-bowed, swift motor-boat. It headed straight for the Columbia. As it drew closer, Jack saw it held two men. Both were blowing a whistle, waving flags and pointing at the big ship as if they, like many other small water craft, were just out to get a glimpse of the triumph of American shipbuilders.

They maneuvered close alongside, while Jack's fingers grasped the rail till the paint flaked off under the pressure he exerted in his excitement. What was happening below? he wondered. Could Billy and his companions carry out their part of the program? Not far from the boy the diamond merchant, unconscious of the drama being enacted on his account, stood, with bandaged head, explaining for the hundredth time the beauty and the value of the gems he had lost.

"Five thousand thalers I give if I get them back," he declared.

Suddenly Jack's heart gave a bound. From a port far down on the side of the ship, and almost directly under him, a white object was hurled. It struck the water with a splash and spread out, floating buoyantly.

Instantly the black motor-boat darted forward, one of the men on board holding a boat hook extended to grasp the floating life-preserver, hidden in which was a king's fortune in gems.

Jack stood still just one instant. Then, driven by an impulse he could not explain, he threw off his coat, kicked off the loose slippers he wore when at work, and the next moment he had mounted the rail and made a clean, swift dive for the life-preserver.

Billy rushed on deck, excitement written on his face, just as Jack dived overboard.

"Jack! Jack!" he shouted.

But he was too late.

"Great Neptune, has the boy gone mad?" exclaimed Captain Turner, who had passed along the deck just in time to see Jack's dive. Regardless of sea etiquette, Billy grasped the skipper's arm and rushed into a narrative of the plan he and Jack had hoped to carry out.

"But Dusenberry was too quick for us, sir," he concluded.

"Never mind that, now," cried the captain, "that boy may be in danger."

He looked over the rail, which, owing to most of the passengers being busy below with their preparations for landing, was almost deserted. Billy was at his side. In the black motor-boat two men stood with their hands up. Alongside was a speedy-looking launch full of strapping big men with firm jaws and the unmistakable stamp of detectives the world over. Some of them were hauling on board the police launch Jack's dripping figure, which clung fast to the life-preserver. Others kept the men in the black launch covered with their pistols.

Half an hour later, when the passengers – all that is but Mr. Rosenstein – had gone ashore (the diamond merchant had been asked by the captain to remain), a little group was assembled in Captain Turner's cabin. In the center of it stood Professor Dusenberry, alias Foxy Fred, looking ever more meek and mild than usual. He had been seized and bound by the two disguised firemen as he threw the life-preserver, but not in time to prevent his getting it out of the port. Beside him, also manacled, were the two men who had been in the motor-boat and who, according to the Southampton police, formed a trio of the most daring diamond thieves who ever operated.

"I think we may send for Mr. Rosenstein now," said Captain Turner with a smile. "Only I hope that he is not subject to attacks of heart failure. Ready," he said, turning to Jack, who stood side by side with Billy, "take these and give them to Mr. Rosenstein with your compliments."

Jack blushed and hesitated.

"I'd, – I'd rather – sir – if you – don't mind – " he stammered.

"You may regard what I just said as an order if you like," said Captain Turner, trying to look grim, while everybody else, but Jack and the prisoners, smiled.

"You wanted to see me on important business, captain?" asked Mr. Rosenstein, as he entered. "You will keep me as short a time as possible, please. I must get to Scotland Yard, my diamonds – "

"Are right here in this boy's hand," said the captain, pushing Jack forward.

"What! This is the fellow who took them?" thundered the diamond merchant.

"No; this is the lad you have to thank for recovering them for you from those three men yonder," said the captain.

"Professor Dusenberry!" exclaimed the diamond expert, throwing up his hand.

"Or Foxy Fred," grinned one of the English detectives.

"Oh, my head, it goes round," exclaimed Mr. Rosenstein.

"This lad, with wonderful ingenuity, and finally courage, when he leaped overboard to save your property, traced the guilty parties," went on the captain, "and by wireless arranged for their capture."

"It's a bit of work to be proud of," said the head of the English contingent.

"It is that," said the captain. "It has cleared away a cloud that might have hung over this ship till the mystery was dispelled, which probably would have been never."

Mr. Rosenstein, who had taken the diamonds from Jack, stood apparently stupefied, holding them on his palm. Suddenly, however, to Jack's great embarrassment, he threw both arms round the boy's neck and saluted him on both cheeks. Then he rushed at Billy and finally the two firemen, who dodged out of the way. Then he drew out a check book and began writing rapidly. He handed a pink slip of paper to Jack. It was a check for $5,000.

"A souvenir," he said.

"But – but – " began Jack, "we didn't do it for money. It was our duty to the company and – "

"It's your duty to the company to take that check, then," laughed Captain Turner, and in the end Jack did. The two firemen, who had helped the boys, received a good share of it and later were promoted by the company for their good work. As for Prof. Dusenberry and his companions, they vanish from our story when, in custody of the detectives, they went over the side a few minutes later. But Jack and Billy to-day have two very handsome diamond and emerald scarf-pins, the gifts of the grateful Mr. Rosenstein.

"Looks as if we are always having adventures of some kind or another," said Billy to Jack that evening as they strolled about the town, for the ship would not sail for Cherbourg, her last port before the homeward voyage, till the next day.

"It certainly does look that way," agreed Jack and then, with a laugh, he added:

"But they don't all turn out so profitably as this one."

With which Billy agreed.

1.The after part of the ill-fated tank steamer Oregon, sunk 100 miles off Sandy Hook, in 1913, when, during a severe storm, she broke in two, floated with the survivors in exactly the manner described in the Oriana's case. – Author's Note.
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09 mart 2017
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