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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/9547-h.zip b/9547-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..67e582c --- /dev/null +++ b/9547-h.zip diff --git a/9547-h/9547-h.htm b/9547-h/9547-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f9807c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/9547-h/9547-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11327 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=us-ascii"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Cruise of the Dry Dock, by + T.S. Stribling. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 12pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced; } + // --> + </style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cruise of the Dry Dock, by T. S. Stribling + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Cruise of the Dry Dock + +Author: T. S. Stribling + +Posting Date: August 16, 2012 [EBook #9547] +Release Date: December, 2005 +First Posted: October 8, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE DRY DOCK *** + + + + +Produced by Robert Shimmin, David Garcia and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="image-1"><!-- Image 1 --></a> + <center> + <img src="images/illus01.png" height="730" width="450" alt= + "They Were at Last Under the Overhang of the Mysterious Schooner."> + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h1> + The Cruise of the Dry Dock + </h1> + <center> + <b>By T.S. Stribling</b> + </center> + <hr> + <center> + <b>Illustrated by Herbert Morton Stoops</b> + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <center> + + 1917 + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <center> + <i>The Cruise of the Dry Dock</i><br> + <i>Lovingly Dedicated to My Mother</i> + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + CONTENTS + </h2> + <p> + I <a href="#CH1">The Dry Dock</a> + </p> + <p> + II <a href="#CH2">Adventure Begins</a> + </p> + <p> + III <a href="#CH3">The Last of the <i>Vulcan</i></a> + </p> + <p> + IV <a href="#CH4">An Interrupted Meeting</a> + </p> + <p> + V <a href="#CH5">Sail Ho!</a> + </p> + <p> + VI <a href="#CH6">The Cul de Sac</a> + </p> + <p> + VII <a href="#CH7">Trapped</a> + </p> + <p> + VIII <a href="#CH8">The Mystery Ship</a> + </p> + <p> + IX <a href="#CH9">A Modern Columbus</a> + </p> + <p> + X <a href="#CH10">The Strange End of the <i>Minnie B</i></a> + </p> + <p> + XI <a href="#CH11">Caradoc Shows His Mettle</a> + </p> + <p> + XII <a href="#CH12">The Return of the <i>Vulcan</i></a> + </p> + <p> + XIII <a href="#CH13">The Sea Serpent</a> + </p> + <p> + XIV <a href="#CH14">Caradoc Wins His Fight</a> + </p> + <p> + XV <a href="#CH15">Towed!</a> + </p> + <p> + XVI <a href="#CH16">Caradoc Takes Command</a> + </p> + <p> + XVII <a href="#CH17">The Get-Away</a> + </p> + <p> + XVIII<a href="#CH18">Nerve Versus Gunpowder</a> + </p> + <p> + XIX <a href="#CH19">Chased by a Submarine</a> + </p> + <p> + XX <a href="#CH20">The Lone Chance</a> + </p> + <p> + XXI <a href="#CH21">The Battle</a> + </p> + <p> + XXII <a href="#CH22">The Victoria Cross</a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="ILL"><!-- ILL --></a> + <h2> + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + </h2> + <p> + <a href="#image-1">They Were at Last Under the Overhang of + the Mysterious Schooner</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#image-2">Out There Lay Adventure, + Mystery—More Than Either Dreamed</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#image-3">Caradoc Stands the Acid Test</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#image-4">The Battle</a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + <i>The Cruise of the Dry Dock</i> + </h2> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH1"><!-- CH1 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <center> + THE DRY DOCK + </center> + <p> + "She's movin'!" cried a voice from the crowd on the wharf + side. "Watch 'er! Watch 'er!" + </p> + <p> + A dull English cheer rippled over the waterfront. + </p> + <p> + "Blarst if I see <i>why</i> she moves!" marveled an onlooker. + "That tug looks like a water bug 'itched to a + 'ouse-boat—it's hunreasonable!" + </p> + <p> + "Aye, but they're tur'ble stout, them tugs be," argued a + companion. + </p> + <p> + "It's hunreasonable, just the same, 'Enry!" + </p> + <p> + "Everything's hunreasonable at sea, 'Arry. W'y w'en chaps put + to sea they tell we're they're at by lookin' at th' + <i>sun</i>." + </p> + <p> + "Aw! An' not by lookin' at th' map?" + </p> + <p> + "By lookin' at th' sun, 'pon honor!" + </p> + <p> + "Don't try to jolly me like that, 'Enry, me lad; that's more + hunreasonable than this." + </p> + <p> + By this time the cheers had become general and the + conversation broke off. An enormous floating dry dock, towed + by an ocean-going tug, slowly drew away from the ship yards + on the south bank of the Thames, just below London. The men + on the immense metal structure, hauling in ropes, looked like + spiders with gossamers. A hundred foot bridge which could be + lifted for the entrance of ocean liners, spanned the open + stern of the dock and braced her high side walls. These walls + rose fifty or sixty feet, were some forty feet thick and + housed the machinery which pumped out the pontoons and raised + the two bridges, one at each end. The tug, the <i>Vulcan</i>, + which stood some two hundred yards down stream, puffing + monotonously at the end of a cable, did seem utterly + inadequate to tow such a mass of metal. Nevertheless, to the + admiration of the crowd, the speed of the convoy slowly + increased. + </p> + <p> + Tug and dock were well under way when the onlooking line was + suddenly disrupted by a well-dressed youth who came bundling + a large suit case through the press and did not pause until + on the edge of the green moulded wharf. + </p> + <p> + "Boat!" he hailed in sharp Yankee accent, gesticulating at a + public dory. "Here, put me aboard that dry dock, will you? + Hustle! the thing's gathering way!" + </p> + <p> + "A little late," observed a voice at the newcomer's elbow. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I hung around London Tower trying to see the crown + jewels, then I broke for St. Paul's for a glimpse of Nelson's + Monument, then I ran down to Marshalsea, where Little + Dorrit's father—make haste there, you slowpoke + water-rat! Rotton London bus service threw me six minutes + late!" he concluded. + </p> + <p> + The American's explosive energy quickly made him a focus of + interest. + </p> + <p> + "What are you trying to do?" smiled the Englishman, "jump out + of a Cook's tour into a floating dock?" + </p> + <p> + The American turned on the joker and saw a tall, well-set-up + young fellow with extraordinarily broad shoulders, long brown + face, stubby blond mustache, who looked down on him with + amused gray eyes. + </p> + <p> + "In a way," grinned the man with the suit case. "I'm knocking + about all over the map, trying to see if the world is really + round. Got a job aboard that dock—going with her to + Buenos Aires—Say, slow-boy, is that dory of yours + anchored, or is it really coming this way?" + </p> + <p> + "Coomin' that way, sor!" wheezed the waterman from below. + </p> + <p> + "That's a coincidence," observed the stranger, twirling his + pale mustache. "I had a berth on her, too." He indicated a + huge English kit bag at his feet. + </p> + <p> + "Then you'd better get a move on if you're going!" snapped + the American, instantly taking charge of the whole affair. + "Shoot your grip here!" He stood ready to receive and deliver + it to the boatman who had landed below. + </p> + <p> + "Had about decided not to go," frowned the Briton with an odd + change of manner. "It looks—er—so nasty over + there—still, if you can endure it I suppose I—" + the final phrase was lost in the swing at his big kit bag. + </p> + <p> + The American followed the luggage hurriedly; the tall fellow + lowered himself calmly and with a certain precision into the + stern of the dory. The boatman set out toward the gliding + mass of iron. + </p> + <p> + The blond youth surveyed their distance from the great dock + and marked its deliberate but deceptive speed. + </p> + <p> + "I doubt whether we catch it after all," he remarked with + slight interest in his voice. + </p> + <p> + "Then we'll take a train to Gravesend and get aboard boat + there," planned the American promptly. + </p> + <p> + A smile glimmered on the long brown face for a moment. + "That's very Yankee-like, I believe," he said + complimentarily. + </p> + <p> + With the brisk friendliness of his nation, the Yankee drew a + morocco case from his pocket. "Leonard Madden is my name," he + said as he offered a bit of engraved card. + </p> + <p> + The Englishman started to reach inside his coat but paused. + "I am Caradoc Smith," he replied gravely. Then, as an + afterthought, he drew a small silver-mounted flask from his + pocket, unscrewed the cap, poured it full of a liquor and + offered it. + </p> + <p> + "To a pleasant acquaintance and a profitable journey, Mr. + Madden," he began ceremoniously. + </p> + <p> + A slight flush reddened the white skin at Madden's collar, + but did not show on his tanned face. It always embarrassed + him to be forced to reject friendly overtures. + </p> + <p> + "Sorry," he shook his head; "don't use it. But the wish + goes." + </p> + <p> + The Englishman looked his surprise. "Then, if you don't + object—" he lifted pale brows. + </p> + <p> + "Certainly not; do as you like." + </p> + <p> + Smith tossed the capful down his throat. "You know, I've met + several Americans," he commented more warmly, "and half of + them don't use alcoholics. Strange thing—can't fancy + why." + </p> + <p> + Madden went into no explanation. They were nearing the dock + by this time and their boatman began a hoarse calling for + some one on board to toss a line. + </p> + <p> + It was like shouting for a man in a city block. The basal + pontoon rose twelve feet above their heads; beyond this + towered the thick side walls spanned by the bridge. The + waterline of the whole dock was painted a bright red, some + four feet high, and above this rose an expanse of raw black + iron, punctuated with long rows of shining rivet heads. + </p> + <p> + The boatman was rowing at top speed and bellowing like an + asthmatic fog horn. "We'll never git nobody," he wheezed. + "Nobody seems to stay around this section of th' dock, sor." + </p> + <p> + Madden raised a lusty shout; the great structure was slowly + increasing her speed. + </p> + <p> + "Yell, Smith, yell!" he counseled between shouts. "We may not + be able to get a train to Gravesend in time!" + </p> + <p> + "I'm not that eager to go," observed the Englishman with a + shrug. + </p> + <p> + The dory was falling behind. Madden leaped up, ran to the + oars and began pushing as the boatman pulled. Their united + efforts just kept the blunt little dory in the hissing wake + of the dock. + </p> + <p> + "Help! Line! Aboard dock! Lend a line!" the two of them + roared discordantly. + </p> + <p> + "We're not going to make it!" cried Madden desperately. "Lend + a hand here, Smith!" + </p> + <p> + At that moment a dark head with sharp black mustaches popped + over the stern of the dock. + </p> + <p> + "Ah-ha! A race!" cried the man above in a French accent. + "Come, Mike, zee the English sporting speerit! Voila! What a + race—a dory and a dry dock!" + </p> + <p> + "Throw us a line!" shrieked Madden, "you + blithering—think this is fun?" + </p> + <p> + "Ah, pardon, a thousand pardons! I hasten!" + </p> + <p> + He disappeared and a few seconds later a coil of rope came + hurtling down. Madden caught it and his toil was over. A + moment later another sailor, of distinct Irish physiognomy, + dropped down a rope ladder to the boat. They paid the + sweating boatman a double fare, climbed up and hoisted their + bags with the line. + </p> + <p> + Only when on board did the lads appreciate the enormous size + of the dock. It would have been impossible to throw a + baseball from one end to the other. The black sides rose + above them like an iron canyon. Ranging down these precipices + were innumerable huge iron stanchions for the shoring of + ocean liners. Toward the forward end of the dock was a two + hundred ton pile of coal, for the use of the tug, but it was + dwarfed to the size of a kitchen supply by the black expanse + around it. On the other side there were erected a few + temporary wooden houses to serve as kitchen, dining room, and + quarters for the crew on the voyage. There were a group of + men loitering about these cabins. + </p> + <p> + The newcomers still stared at their gigantic surroundings + when the interested Frenchman said politely: + </p> + <p> + "It ees large, beeg, yes?" + </p> + <p> + "Where's the boss?" inquired Leonard. "We've got jobs aboard + this craft." + </p> + <p> + "He is making out the papers now, I think, and ees in a bad + temper, too." + </p> + <p> + With this discouraging information, the two young men started + for the officers' cabin. As they entered the place they met a + crew of typical London longshoresmen coming out. Inside, a + stocky purple-cheeked cockney stood at a little desk and + glowered at them with small red eyes. + </p> + <p> + "'Ow's this?" he growled sharply, and in some surprise. "You + are not in th' crew Hi picked hup." + </p> + <p> + "No, we applied at the office—" + </p> + <p> + "Hoffice, hoffice," snarled the man. "W'ot do they know about + men, settin' hup there with their legs cocked hup? W'ot is it + ye want anyway?" + </p> + <p> + Leonard silently offered a paper he had received from the + British Towing and Shipping Company. The mate wrinkled his + half inch of knobbly brow as he read the paper in a low + undertone, after the manner of illiterate men. + </p> + <p> + "And by the way, my man," began Caradoc in stiff + condescension, "we would like one of those cabins to + ourselves." + </p> + <p> + The mate flung up a club-like head and threw back his blocky + shoulders. "<i>My man!</i>" he gasped. "Ye call me <i>my + man</i>, ye little cigarette-suckin' silk-hatted + Johnny—orderin' private cabins! W'ot ye think this + is—a floatin' 'otel?" + </p> + <p> + Madden bit his lip to keep from smiling at the odd play of + anger and surprise on Smith's long expressive face. + </p> + <p> + "No harm meant, Mr. ——" began the American + soothingly. + </p> + <p> + "Malone—Mate Malone!" stormed the angry officer by way + of introduction. + </p> + <p> + "You understand how friends prefer to bunk together instead + of with strangers. We thought we would ask you about it." + </p> + <p> + This soothed the irascible fellow somewhat. Still glowering, + he spraddled out of the cabin with the boys after him, and + presently indicated one of the small temporary cabins with a + jerk of his thumb. As to whether his intentions were kindly + or cruel, Madden could not determine, but their lodgment was + a low kennel-like place, the smallest in the row. + Nevertheless it was very clean and smelled of new lumber. It + held four bunks, two on a side. The boys dropped their + luggage inside with the pleasure of travelers reaching their + destination. + </p> + <p> + "Got no fire arms nor whiskey?" growled the mate, looking + through the door at his new men. + </p> + <p> + Both answered in the negative. + </p> + <p> + "All right; step lively now. We want to raise that waterline + 'igh enough to work in the waves before we reach th' + Channel." + </p> + <p> + The lads shut the door after them, then started under + Malone's direction for whatever work he had. + </p> + <p> + They found the whole crew swinging along the hundred foot + front of the dock, broadening the brilliant red waterline + with all possible dispatch. The reason for attacking the + front first was obvious. In case of rough weather, the way of + the dock would pile the waves higher ahead than anywhere + else. Leonard and his new friend lowered themselves on a + swinging platform over the twelve-foot pontoon and joined in + the work. + </p> + <p> + Tug and dock were now passing through the congested traffic + of the lower Thames and the enormous English shipping spread + in a panorama before them. Here were barges, smacks, scows, + sailing vessels; big liners plowing through the press with + hoarse whistles; rusty English tramps, that carried the Union + Jack to the uttermost ends of the earth. Even a few + dreadnoughts lay castled on the broadening waters. On both + sides of the river, dull warehouses and factories stretched + out rusty wharves, like myriad fingers, to receive the + tonnage that converged on this center of the world's + activities. + </p> + <p> + American curiosity almost prevented Madden from working at + all. He painted intermittently, between wonders, so to speak. + As for Caradoc, he made no pretense to labor, but propped a + broad shoulder against the supporting rope, stuck a cigarette + under his white mustache and fell to regarding the waterscape + in a serious, preoccupied fashion. + </p> + <p> + "Say, old man," warned Leonard in an undertone, briskly + plying his brush, "that mate looked down at us then. He'll + raise a rough house if we don't get a move on and keep our + section up." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc came out of his muse, tossed his cigarette into the + swirling water a few feet below him. "Impudent chap!" he + snapped. + </p> + <p> + Madden laughed. "His trade is to get work out of men and it + requires impudence." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc grunted something, perhaps an assent. The two fell + briskly to work and soon made an impression on the blank iron + wall. At first the American chatted of this and that, + rehearsing his own aimless ramblings as men will, but + presently he observed that Smith was painting away and paying + no attention to his partner's chatter. + </p> + <p> + "What's the worry, old man?" queried Madden lightly. "'Fraid + the paint'll give out?" + </p> + <p> + "I presume they have sufficient paint," answered Smith + stiffly, as he flapped his brush across the bright head of a + big rivet. + </p> + <p> + "Why—yes," agreed Madden, a little taken aback, "but + you look like you might be getting up a grouch at + something—" + </p> + <p> + "About time to pull up, isn't it?" interrupted Smith. + </p> + <p> + The brusqueness in the speech grated on Madden, but they + hauled up their platform without further remarks on either + side. The Englishman seemed to work slower than the American, + but somehow covered as much ground. + </p> + <p> + The coat of red paint had risen considerably on the dock when + the bosun's whistle gave a faint shrill from the deck. The + whole string of painters facing the pontoon's bow began + hauling up their platforms. The lads followed their example. + </p> + <p> + Malone was hastily pulling his crew together in the mess room + on the middle pontoon. He came by waving his short heavy arms + in the direction of the long eating room. + </p> + <p> + "Get along aft; you're to sign the ship's papers!" he bawled + monotonously. "Get along!" + </p> + <p> + Most of the men walked faster when the mate flung his arms at + them. Leonard felt the impulse to step livelier but held + himself to Caradoc's deliberate stride. + </p> + <p> + In the mess room the boys found a compact, black-haired, + serious-faced young man of unknown nationality reading the + ship's articles in an expressionless tone. Nobody listened, + although various penalties were prescribed for desertion, + quitting ship without leave, disobedience of orders, each + with its particular fine or punishment. When the reader + finished, the men walked around one by one and signed the + register. Then a copy of the articles was pointed out on the + side of the mess room, and again no one observed. + </p> + <p> + The performance was hardly completed when the gong rang for + supper. There were not more than a dozen men at mess. Most + were of stolid English navvy type, dirty uncouth men whose + gross irregular features told of low birth and evil life. The + foreign element comprised an Irishman named Mike Hogan and + the Frenchman whom the boys had met when they first came + aboard. The crowd called him Dashalong. Upon inquiry, Leonard + found it to be Deschaillon. The young man who read the + articles was named Farnol Greer. However, he proved a silent, + taciturn youth, who seemed to converse with no one and to + have no friends. + </p> + <p> + In the long narrow eating cabin mingled the clean smell of + newly sawed lumber and the odor of poor cookery. The meal + proved rather worse than ordinary steerage food. After the + first taste Smith put it by, grumbling. Leonard, who was + hungry, consumed about half of his. + </p> + <p> + Beef stew and boiled white fish formed the menu. Perhaps + there is nothing quite so slippery and disheartening as + boiled white fish grown luke warm or cold. The navvies ate + ravenously enough, but Hogan and Deschaillon were not so + wolfish. + </p> + <p> + Mike speared a bit on his fork and regarded it sadly. "This + fish reminds me uv a fun'ril," he observed, "an' yonder lad + looks to be chief mourner," he nodded toward Farnol Greer. + </p> + <p> + "He ees not mourning over the feesh," declared Deschaillon + gayly. "He ees struck on heemself, and found his affection + ees misplaced." + </p> + <p> + Madden laughed. The spirits of the Celt and the Gaul seemed + to improve as their fare grew worse. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, av course a frog-atin' Frinchman loike you, Dashalong, + would think any kind av fish a reg'lar feast." + </p> + <p> + Deschaillon leaned over to inspect his portion. "Now eet does + very well—to wax zee mustache, Mike." He twirled his + own. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc grunted disapproval of such doubtful table talk, + arose and left the rough company and rough fare with + supercilious condemnation. + </p> + <p> + "Your friend's appetite sames as dilicate as his wor-rkin' + powers," observed Hogan as he watched the Englishman stoop + and disappear through the doorway. + </p> + <p> + Madden smiled. "We didn't work any too hard this afternoon, + did we?" + </p> + <p> + Mike and Pierre proved droll companions, ready to jibe at + anyone or anything in perfect good nature, so that it was an + hour before Leonard strolled outside. As he had no further + duty, he climbed a long ladder to the top of the high dock + wall and walked forward toward the bridge. + </p> + <p> + By this time the sun had set and left the world filled with a + luminous yellow afterglow. The estuary of the Thames had + widened abruptly off Sheerness, and far to the south was the + dim line of chalk cliffs that England thrusts toward France. + Overhead stretched a translucent yellow-green sky with the + long black line of the <i>Vulcan's</i> smoke marking it. + </p> + <p> + Leonard moved across the bridge slowly. + </p> + <p> + There was almost perfect silence over the great structure + below him, save for the slow creaking of new joints in the + iron plates, the softened chough-choughing of the tug ahead. + </p> + <p> + There were several paint barrels piled up on the bridge, + slung there no doubt by machinery, to prevent the men having + to toil up with it from below. The boy leaned against one of + these barrels, gazing into the yellow flood of light that + bathed everything in its own saffron. His heart beat high + with a feeling of the hazard of the ocean. He tried to fancy + what would happen to the huge dock as it adventured through + tropic seas. His imagination readily conjured up a + kaleidoscope of incidents—cannibal proas, shark fights, + sea serpents, typhoons, mutinies, what not. + </p> + <p> + And at every turn of the tug's propeller all this bright + dashing world of adventure drew nearer and nearer. For some + reason he recalled what the bystander on the dock had + said—"Everything is unreasonable at sea," and he + laughed aloud. + </p> + <p> + As a sort of gloomy echo of his laugh, his ear caught a groan + from the other side of the paint barrels. With the utmost + surprise and curiosity, he straightened up and moved silently + around the pile. + </p> + <p> + Then he saw the tall Englishman leaning across the bridge + rail, face in hands, staring at the line of land silhouetted + in black between the brazen sky and the reflecting water. + Smith's whole attitude was so suggestive of trouble that + Madden moved forward in generous sympathy. + </p> + <p> + The Englishman heard the movement, straightened, looked + around; his long face wore a look of suffering in the colored + light. + </p> + <p> + "Sorry you're so blue, old man," sympathized the American, + making a guess at the cause of his bad spirits. "Let's have a + turn around this old tub and forget homesickness." + </p> + <p> + "Home!" echoed Caradoc gruffly. "It's—it's all England + I'm leaving. It's England and honor and—" he stiffened + suddenly and snarled out: "Do you think I climbed away up + here on this bridge hunting your company?" + </p> + <p> + Leonard was utterly nonplussed by this shift. "I'm sure I + meant no harm—" + </p> + <p> + "Certainly not," sneered Caradoc. "You Americans have the + undesired friendliness of stray puppies—you have no + conception of personal reserve—you turn your souls into + moral vaudevilles." + </p> + <p> + A flush of indignation swept over Madden. "That's no decent + return for a friendly approach!" he declared hotly, "and I'd + rather be a puppy than a hedgehog any day!" + </p> + <p> + Caradoc made no reply, but seemed to erase Madden from his + mind and shifted slowly around to his staring and his + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + This last bit of impudence fairly clanged on Madden's temper. + He felt a desire to tell this coxcomb just what he thought of + him. If Caradoc had remained facing the American, Madden + might have done so, but it feels foolish to rail at a + profile. Madden wheeled angrily, tramped across the bridge, + then down the high side of the dock toward the ladder. From + far below him came Hogan's voice, a concertina, and the sound + of clacking feet. Apparently the Irishman had induced someone + to dance a jig. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH2"><!-- CH2 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <center> + ADVENTURE BEGINS + </center> + <p> + Fortunately for the British Towing and Shipping Company, the + next few days were glassy calm, and as the <i>Vulcan</i> + coughed along the South England coast, the crew had fair + opportunity to raise the coat of paint out of danger. + </p> + <p> + They had finished the ends by this time and were now working + on the high exterior sides of the dock. The labor was + distasteful to Leonard, not within itself, but it is + disagreeable to dangle in midair over a huge iron wall, blue + water gurgling below, and sit beside a man who has affronted + one by calling one's manners puppyish and one's soul a + vaudeville. Even if one really be fond of puppies and enjoy + vaudeville, the implication is unpleasant. + </p> + <p> + On the third morning after, Caradoc wielded his brush + listlessly and looked sick. His fine shoulders sagged and his + eyes were hollow in his long face. Leonard, whose spirits + naturally mounted with the sun, found it hard to continue the + three days' silence. He wanted to talk about the splendid + English coast with its gemlike villages set in green, the + red-sailed fishing smacks, the social gulls feeding in the + long trail behind the dock. It is difficult to be reserved + under such conditions. Then, too, Caradoc was so obviously + ill, Madden felt sorry for the fellow. + </p> + <p> + As for the Englishman, he paid little attention to his + working mate, but languidly splashed the iron wall, and + himself, with red paint. After some two hours' work, he stood + up on the platform as if sore, made an irresolute start, + finally climbing the rope ladder to the top. Madden wondered + about the queer fellow, but was rather relieved by his + absence. Within twenty or thirty minutes, however, he was + back, but in perceptibly better spirits. He worked briskly + for a few minutes, then dropped brush in pail and turned to + Leonard as if no shadow had crossed their acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + "Well, Madden, we can hardly blame the old Phoenicians for + guarding the secret of the Cassiterides, can we?" + </p> + <p> + The American almost fell off the platform in surprise. + </p> + <p> + "Why—er—no, I don't blame 'em," he blurted, not + having a ghost of a notion what the Englishman was talking + about. "No, I—I never blamed 'em a bit—never + did." + </p> + <p> + "Those were poetic days, Madden." + </p> + <p> + The American stared, his mind as much at sea as his body. + </p> + <p> + "Think of that Phoenician sailing his galley for the Isles of + Tin. The Romans follow him, day after day, week after week. + But does he betray the secret of Tyre's wealth?" Caradoc made + a gesture. Madden was about to answer that he didn't know, + when the orator went on. + </p> + <p> + "He does not. Rather than expose the rich mines of Cornwall, + he dashes his galley upon a reef and risks his life among the + early English barbarians." + </p> + <p> + "Was it here where that happened?" asked Madden interestedly, + fishing some such tale from the bottom of his recollection. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc stood upright on the swinging platform, hands thrust + in jacket pockets, thumbs out, Oxford fashion. His tall form + swayed slowly with the steady rise and fall of the dock. + </p> + <p> + "Certainly, the Cassiterides is Cornwall, and that point of + land just ahead is the spot where the Tyrian wrecked his + ship, so the legend goes." + </p> + <p> + Madden's eyes followed Caradoc's gesture. "I've read that + story, but I never thought of seeing the place." + </p> + <p> + "Cornwall is entrancing if you care for antiquities," went on + Smith in the polished style of a collegiate. "Four or five + miles up that cape are the Boskednan Circles and the + Dawns-un, old Druidic stone temples. Just across the + peninsula is St. Ives, where the virgin Hya appeared + miraculously. It is really regrettable, Madden, that you are + leaving England before you tour Cornwall. A wonderful little + island, England. A land to live for—or to die for, God + willing." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc stared toward the coast, frowning, with the old + familiar look of pain coming into his eyes. His hearer and + his extemporaneous lecture plainly slipped out of his mind. + </p> + <p> + "You've been along here before," suggested Madden with a hope + of diverting Smith's mind. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, yes," replied the Englishman gloomily. + </p> + <p> + "Sailor, perhaps?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "Not another dry dock, I trust," laughed Madden, turning to + work. + </p> + <p> + "No." + </p> + <p> + "Windjammer?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + Leonard nodded at his painting. "Fishing smack, I'll bet." + </p> + <p> + The cross-questioning was interrupted by a raucous voice + overhead, and both boys looked up to see the mate's thick + torso hanging over the rail. He was shaking his fist at the + tall Englishman. + </p> + <p> + "W'ot you think we brought you along for?" he bawled + savagely. "To give lectures? If you don't paint and quit + blowin', you win' bag, I'll ship you at Penzance!" + </p> + <p> + Caradoc's face went white, leaving threadlike purple veins + showing on nose and cheeks. "I'm willing to do my duty," he + said with a quiver in his tone. He glanced at his empty paint + bucket. "If I'm to work, bring me paint—I'm out!" + </p> + <p> + Caradoc seemed to be able to make the mate madder and do it + quicker than anyone else. + </p> + <p> + "Paint! Bring you paint!" roared Malone, apoplectic. "Git out + an' git your paint, or I'll put a longer, uglier head than + that on your shoulders." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc gave a shrug, stooped for the bucket, then began + composedly climbing the ladder straight at the sputtering + officer. + </p> + <p> + "Be careful there, Smith," warned Madden in an undertone; + "he'd as soon as not slug you without giving you a dog's + chance." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc said nothing but continued his climbing. The men on + the platform fore and aft ceased work, watching the mate and + the climbing man intently. The silence following the usual + drone of conversation was noticeable. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc was just reaching up to climb into Malone, when at + that moment something happened that drew and held everybody's + attention. + </p> + <p> + The whole face of the sea around the dock broke into a sort + of sputtering. The ocean seemed to boil. To his astonishment, + Madden saw the commotion was caused by millions of small + fishes leaping and running along the surface. + </p> + <p> + Cries came from all over the dock at once: "Pilchards! + Pilchards are shoaling! Pilchards are shoaling!" + </p> + <p> + The few gulls in the sky now seemed to multiply and settled + in a fluttering cloud to strike such easily captured food. + Among the press of little fish leaped cod, hake, dog fish, + all feasting on the annual migration of the pilchards. The + crew on the dock scrambled up and over the sides, flung down + boxes, buckets, anything and scooped the fish from the sea. + </p> + <p> + The diversion saved the Englishman from any bellicose + intention of the mate, who hurried off to take a hand in the + sport. Madden sat on his platform watching the fun, for it + was a remarkable sight. Caradoc swung around on the ladder + facing Leonard. + </p> + <p> + "There, Madden," he cried, "is a sight characteristic of no + other sea. Every season Cornish fisheries capture millions of + these fish. They pickle 'em, can 'em. They even sell them to + you Yankees for sardines. You are fortunate to have seen this + phenomenon." + </p> + <p> + Leonard studied the novel sight. Hundreds of fishing smacks + converged on the area where the pilchards were breaking, + their red sails glowing warmly against the green of the land + and the blue of the sea. Gulls whirled about the tall dock, + filling the air with thin creakings. Madden admired the + sudden picturesque activity. Some of the smacks were so close + now that he could see their long trawls stringing out behind, + and little figures running about their decks, winding in + nets, bringing in a flood of silver fishes. + </p> + <p> + The metallic noise of the gulls grew so loud as to blanket + all else. In the midst of this fluttering and shrieking, + Leonard heard the shouting of human voices. He paid little + attention. Then some of the men on top of the dock's side + began yelling. At that moment, Caradoc shouted down Madden's + name. Madden looked up. On the instant the swinging platform + under him tipped violently. + </p> + <p> + Next moment, Madden saw right beneath him a smack. The vessel + was floating by, and the peak of its boom scraped the high + iron wall of the dock. This boom had struck his platform. + </p> + <p> + Madden clutched impotently at the blank iron wall, then flung + an arm for one of the supporting ropes and missed. + </p> + <p> + "Jump to me!" yelled Smith. The Englishman was still on the + rope ladder, but had climbed down rapidly when he saw his + mate in distress. The boom was tilting the platform straight + up and down. The deck of the smack below promised to mash the + American into a pulp. The fishermen were shouting. Leonard + made a falling leap toward Caradoc's extended hand. He caught + it in both his own. The Englishman's other hand gripped the + rope rung. Unfortunately Madden's body flung out with a + twisting motion, and he could feel Smith's arm grow tense in + an effort to keep from being wrenched. + </p> + <p> + Madden was scrambling with his legs for a foothold on the + ladder when the boom dragged past the platform and the whole + thing swung back on the distressed boys. A flying end caught + Madden in the side. The blow sickened him. He clung + desperately to Caradoc's hand, his grip weakening, his senses + swimming with the feeling of an awful void beneath him. The + strength in his fingers gave way, and he felt a chill + sensation before the coming downward plunge. But even in his + twisted, straining position, the Englishman's long fingers + did not loose Madden's wrist. A moment later, Leonard had + lost consciousness completely, swung in midair, limp as a + bag. + </p> + <p> + The American had a dim impression of being drawn to the top + of the side wall, and the crew clustering about him. Someone + splashed water in his face and the world cleared up before + his eyes. The young fellow called Greer was whisking on the + water, but when Madden opened his eyes, he set the bucket + down and returned silently to his work. + </p> + <p> + "There, ye're bether now," grinned Hogan stooping over the + wounded man. "That platform caught yez a little love lick in + the slats—break any of 'em?" + </p> + <p> + Leonard reached across and felt his side. "How came the smack + there?" he inquired weakly. "Why didn't I see it?" + </p> + <p> + "Ye was lookin' astern, an' th' vissil barely turned the bow + of th' dock an' her boom kissed us all th' way down. I yilled + at ye, so did Dashalong an' th' silent man. Thin I got so + interested in l'arnin' he could say a worrd, I quit lookin' + at you complately." + </p> + <p> + "I couldn't hear for the gulls—I'll be all right in a + minute." + </p> + <p> + Leonard looked around and saw Caradoc massaging his twisted + arm. He had an impulse to thank the Briton, but he changed it + to, "I hope your arm isn't badly wrenched, Smith." + </p> + <p> + "Quite all right," assured the tall fellow cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + The men began to scatter to work again. + </p> + <p> + That day at lunch the ship's fare was garnished with an + abundance of delicious pilchards. The whole crew wore a + holiday air. During the afternoon the men sang at their work + and labored so merrily and so well that a broad wash of paint + was added to the outside wall. + </p> + <p> + Leonard, whose side was sore enough from the thump, did not + work. Even the mate suggested that he take a leave of + absence, and stay in his bunk if he would. + </p> + <p> + The boy went at once to his cabin and began hunting in his + suit case for a little medicine chest which he always + carried. He wanted arnica for his bruised side. To his + surprise he could not find it. He gave his bag a thorough + search, tumbling garments, trinkets, souvenirs, curiosities, + helter skelter over his bunk, but failed to find his case. + </p> + <p> + The loss of the medical carry-all distressed Madden. It had + proved useful in the past. However, he hunted up the mate and + begged a liniment, which must have had a wonderful virtue if + a powerful odor was any indication. + </p> + <p> + Leonard rubbed the stuff on his side and turned into his + bunk. His side grew so sore he wondered whether or not his + ribs really were broken after all. In his dark den he could + still hear the gulls wailing, although the tug had passed the + major portion of the shoaling pilchards. There also came to + him the constant creaking of the dock, the slow dull + recurrence of the ground swell against her bow. The boy's + mind centered fretfully on his lost medicine chest. No doubt + it was stolen, and he began wondering which of the crew had + taken it. His suspicion played idly over the crew, and then + settled on the youth called Greer. His reason for this was + that Greer said very little. Madden thought this must be the + sign of a guilty conscience. + </p> + <p> + He did not brood long, however, as the monotonous sounds + exerted a hypnotic effect on his senses. Once or twice as he + was almost falling asleep, he felt himself clinging + desperately to Caradoc's hand, his grip weakening, the + fearsome void gaping under him, then he would awake with a + start that sent a knife of pain through his bruised ribs. + After that he would be forced to feel once more to test his + costal region for broken bones. Finally the vision failed to + paint itself, or did not rouse him, and he slept. + </p> + <p> + After an indeterminate interval, he was awakened by someone + entering the room. It was fairly dark now and by lifting a + head over the side of his berth, he saw the outline of the + Frenchman standing by the door. Madden thought of the stolen + medicine chest and remained silent. + </p> + <p> + The Gaul was about to withdraw when Madden called out. + </p> + <p> + "What is it, Deschaillon?" + </p> + <p> + "I just came by to say your frien' ees in trouble. Zay play + cards in zee salon. Smeeth he win <i>beaucoup</i>. Zay + quarrel, perhaps zay fight. He ees your frien', and—" + </p> + <p> + Leonard smiled when he heard the mess hall dignified into a + salon; but at the latter end of the sentence he sat up + suddenly in his bunk and began pulling on his jacket despite + the twinges in his side. + </p> + <p> + "Eh, how's that—fight?" + </p> + <p> + At that instant Hogan lolled against the jamb and announced + his entrance with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + "What's this Deschaillon's telling me, Mike—the men + fighting over cards?" + </p> + <p> + "Sure now I heard him and told him not to be wakin' a sick + man up for sich trifles. They was a few raymarks ixchanged, + but nawthin' ser'us." He turned reproachfully on the Gaul. + "Nixt time be advised by me and don't be wakin' a sick man + for nawthin'." + </p> + <p> + The two walked away and Leonard leaned back in his bunk, + quite sleepless now. He stared into the blackness, his mind a + moving picture show of the last three days. The Englishman + was chief actor on this stage, and his disagreeably mixed + character puzzled and disturbed the American. Caradoc's + language and manners showed him to be a man of breeding, but + he was full of contradictory habits. His uncosmopolitan + moodiness, his vulgar quarreling over cards, were typical + instances. + </p> + <p> + Leonard almost regretted that he had formed an uncomfortable + intimacy with the fellow, but he could not very well break it + off now since Smith had saved him from a fall that might + easily have proved fatal. + </p> + <p> + Just then the Englishman entered the cabin silently. He + lighted the bracket lamp quietly and looked about to satisfy + himself that his mate was asleep. Later Madden heard him open + his big kit bag and take something out. A moment after, the + odor of alcohol scented the little cabin. + </p> + <p> + Leonard lifted his head and saw the fellow under the lamp, + just lifting the silver cap to his lips. A disagreeable smile + moulded the long face, wrinkled the nostrils and slid away + under the choppy blond mustache. The strong light from the + overhead lamp brought out an almost sinister countenance. + </p> + <p> + The thought that such a man had probably saved his life + filled Madden with a kind of repulsion. He turned in his bunk + with a little disgusted grunt. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc dropped the little cap and came to the bunk. + </p> + <p> + "Side hurt, old man?" he asked anxiously. + </p> + <p> + "Yes—no—nothing the matter." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, maybe you don't like this odor—forgot you didn't + drink." He stepped quickly to the kit bag, replaced the + bottle and cap inside and closed it. Like many alcohol users + he labored under the delusion that alcohol was not offensive + on his <i>breath</i>. + </p> + <p> + "Nervous shock you received seemed to upset you more than the + punch," he diagnosed in a concerned voice. "You Americans are + a high-strung nation." He paused a moment philosophically. "I + daresay you're right about not drinking spirits. With your + nervous organism, it would set you on fire. But our foggy + English climate and stodgy people call for it. Sets our + pulses going. A thought just here—Climate and + Alcoholism. Not a bad subject for a scientific investigation, + is it?" + </p> + <p> + Madden grunted. + </p> + <p> + "I'll blow out the light unless you'll have me rub some more + of that villainous stuff on your ribs?" + </p> + <p> + The patient declined this. + </p> + <p> + "Need water or medicine during the night throw your boots at + me—I'm hard to wake," + </p> + <p> + Then he puffed out the light. + </p> + <!-- NOTE: Remove center tags and put align="left" or align="right" for text wrapped alignments --> + <a name="image-2"><!-- Image 2 --></a> + <center> + <img src="images/illus02.png" height="730" width="450" alt= + "Out There Lay Adventure, Mystery--More Than Either Dreamed."> + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH3"><!-- CH3 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <center> + THE LAST OF THE <i>VULCAN</i> + </center> + <p> + A temporary rudder had been installed on the unwieldy dry + dock, and each twenty-four hours Mate Malone detailed seven + men to stand watch, which gave the regulation dog watch, + although there was no need of it with a double complement of + men. Thanks to his bruised ribs, the American had thus far + escaped duty at the wheel. About a week after the pilchard + incident, he reported ready for this service, when a twist of + circumstance rendered it unnecessary. + </p> + <p> + A long stretch of fair weather had been enjoyed by the dock + painters on a steadily dropping barometer. On this particular + day a cold puffy wind developed out of the northeast, + bringing with it a rack of clouds and spreading a choppy sea + below. + </p> + <p> + From where Madden painted on the corner of the dock, he had a + good view of these chasing waves that rose a moment in the + gray seascape, nodded a white cap, then dropped back into the + waste of water. + </p> + <p> + "Wonder if a storm would affect this old box much?" he + queried of Caradoc. + </p> + <p> + "Probably have a chance to see," opined Smith, looking out + with a speculative eye. "By the by, what's that?" + </p> + <p> + Caradoc pointed toward the <i>Vulcan</i>, which already + exhibited the motion of the rollers. + </p> + <p> + Madden looked. A sailor stood on the tug's round stern waving + two flags toward the dock. + </p> + <p> + The American arose from his work, funneled his hands before + his lips and called to the man, but the spitting wind whisked + away his words, and the sailor went on with his flag. + </p> + <p> + Madden regarded it attentively a few moments. "He's + wig-wagging—wants to speak to the mate. I'll go for + him." He trotted aft. + </p> + <p> + Leonard found the officer in his cabin and told his mission. + The mate arose at once and came out with the lad. "Don't know + w'ot 'e wants, do you?" he inquired. + </p> + <p> + "I only spelled his message till I found he wanted you." + </p> + <p> + "Huh—understand flag signals, do ye?" grunted Malone, + shifting his inflamed eyes to Madden's face. + </p> + <p> + "Learned it in my engineering course," explained the lad. + </p> + <p> + The two passed on to the bow, when the sailor on the tug + starting waving once more. Mate Malone watched the man until + he had finished spelling out the message, then he turned to + Leonard and asked: + </p> + <p> + "Know w'ot 'e said?" + </p> + <p> + "Parker's sick and they need you," translated the American. + </p> + <p> + "Good," grinned the mate with more fellowship than he had + ever shown before. "Now, lookee here, young chap. They're + going to send a cutter for me to come and take Parker's + place. You strike me as a decent sort, so I'll leave you in + my berth till I get back. You won't have nothin' to do + hexcept tell off th' watches an' keep th' boys paintin'. + Softer'n your fo'cs'l job, though you won't git no hextra + pay—wot about it?" + </p> + <p> + "That goes with me," agreed Madden readily. + </p> + <p> + "All right, you signal me about anything you don't + understand. Make the men step, lively, same as if you was + me." + </p> + <p> + By this time the tug had slowed down a trifle and a boat put + out from her. While it came bobbing over the water, Malone + bawled his men together and briefly explained his transfer of + authority. + </p> + <p> + "Be back jest as soon as Parker's all right," he said as he + climbed from dock to dancing boat below. "And, by the way, + Mr. Madden, you will bunk in my cabin." + </p> + <p> + That "Mister Madden" from the mate was the great seal of + authority. The men looked at him with new eyes. + </p> + <p> + Somehow, Malone's confidence pleased Madden. That uncouth, + bullet-headed officer had not spent his whole life on the + high seas, belaboring all classes of men into + serviceableness, without being able to judge the genus homo + pretty shrewdly. + </p> + <p> + The navvies accepted the new officer in stolid submission, + but Hogan clapped his hands. "Hey, a spache fr-rom th' new + boss!" he grinned. + </p> + <p> + Leonard laughed. "My speech is to get back to work, and I'll + do the same," said the boy, returning to his bucket. + </p> + <p> + This appealed to the cockneys, who gave a dull English cheer, + and then everybody settled back to their tasks once more. + </p> + <p> + "What's the use in your painting, Madden?" asked Caradoc, + "You don't have to." + </p> + <p> + Leonard was amused, "They tell me a chap whose work is no + bigger than his contract, never gets a contract for bigger + work." + </p> + <p> + "What's that?" frowned Smith. "That sounds like Yankee + smartness to me—seems to make a great deal more sense + than it really does." + </p> + <p> + "Anyway, I don't want to rat on you fellows, just because + Malone left me in charge for a day or so." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc made no answer, but stared after the rowboat which + was just rounding into the tug. "If I'd played up to that + officer a bit," he smiled dourly, "I could have had the + mate's berth, Madden." + </p> + <p> + The American glanced up. The Englishman's smile recalled the + look Leonard had seen under the bracket lamp. + </p> + <p> + "Well, there's very little in it for anyone, I'm thinking." + </p> + <p> + "Certainly, certainly," Smith shrugged a broad shoulder and + the subject was dismissed. + </p> + <p> + The blustery weather increased steadily, and by lunch time + the wind was blowing half a gale. Regiments of waves marched + against the dock and snapped spray high up the red sides. + Their constant blows rang through the big iron structure. A + feeling of security came to Madden as he saw the gray-green + waves break white, and yet not shake the huge barge + sufficiently to tip the paint from the men's buckets. + Certainly the dock was monstrous. + </p> + <p> + The sea grew rougher as evening wore on and finally the boy + went to the mate's cabin to pick out his men for the night's + work. After his own cramped quarters, Malone's room proved + delightful. Three glass ports admitted light. A table in the + center of the room spread over with a Mercator's projection + showed that Malone dutifully pricked the <i>Vulcan's</i> + course on the chart, although it was not required of him. A + sextant and quadrant told the American that the stolid Briton + worked out his own reckonings. The sight of these things + filled the boy with a respect for the uncouth fellow. He + understood how doggedly Malone must have labored to acquire + mastery over the instruments of navigation. Beyond this there + were a number of flaring chromos on the walls, a decanter of + wine and glasses in a chest. He found what he was looking for + in the desk drawer, a roll of men checked off for watches. + The coming night was arranged for, but for morning, the names + of Heck Mulcher, Ben Galton and Caradoc Smith stood in order. + Madden was just marking these men when there was a tap at the + door. + </p> + <p> + Upon call, Gaskin, the cook, entered, bearing a big tray of + dishes, "Yer dinner, sir," he said, very respectfully. + </p> + <p> + Madden had not anticipated having the mate's meals served to + him, and for a moment he came near asking the cook if he had + not made a mistake; but the steaming tray and the pleasant + odors kept the question unspoken. Only with this diet before + him did he realize that he had been fairly starving on the + poor ship's rations. + </p> + <p> + When Gaskin placed the soup on the table, Madden became aware + that the dock was rolling rather heavily, for the liquid + spilled over the side of the plate, while dishes and tureens + went coasting up and down the boards. + </p> + <p> + "Getting rough outside," remarked the lad to the servant, who + was lighting a lamp. + </p> + <p> + "A bit 'eavier, sir," replied Gaskin self effacingly. + </p> + <p> + Madden held the soup plate in his hand for steadiness, and + sipped the hot, satisfying liquid while the great dock rose + and fell. The fact that he was really in command of the vast + iron fabric put the American in a serious humor. He ate + dinner slowly, listening to the heavy clang of the waves + against the iron hull, and to the wind whining and sobbing + over the great metal sides. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished his meal, the youth arose with the + intention of going to the sailors' mess house to see about + the watches. He had no sooner stuck his head out of the door, + however, than a whisk of spray leaped at him out of the + darkness and drove him inside. He was preparing to venture + out again, when Gaskin opened a locker and brought out an + oilskin. + </p> + <p> + "Hit'll 'elp you keep dry, sir," holding up the garment. + </p> + <p> + Swathed in its folds, Madden made a new start and walked out + on the heaving, shifting pontoon. + </p> + <p> + Outside a renewed noise smote his ears. The air was full of + flying spume that whipped in through the stern of the dock. + Malone had planked up this open gateway to a height of thirty + feet, which made it forty-two feet above the salt water line, + but the spray already leaped this barrier and pelted + throughout the dark heavy iron canyon. + </p> + <p> + The dock was made in three huge sections, in order that it + might be self-docking when fouled. Now in the darkness, the + groaning of these joints smote the blustering gale in a sort + of vast distress. The many iron stanchions for the shoring of + vessels began thrumming a devil's tattoo against the high + iron walls, like a myriad giant fingers. + </p> + <p> + In the corners of the bow pontoon, Madden could see the + signal lights heaving and dropping with the motion of the + vast fabric. Now and then he caught a glimmer of the tug's + light, and its erratic motions told how the staunch little + vessel fared. + </p> + <p> + There was a faint radiance around the shut door of the mess + hall, and Madden walked toward it rather unsteadily, with the + spumy brine dashing into his face. + </p> + <p> + A signal lantern was attached to one of the shoring + stanchions near the mess hall, and as Madden moved into its + dull glow, another bundled form entered from the other side. + The figure stopped and saluted. + </p> + <p> + "If you please, sor," he bawled in Madden's ear, "th' nixt + watch is sick." + </p> + <p> + "Sick! The whole watch sick? What do you mean, Mike?" + </p> + <p> + The Irishman grinned in the dim light, "Yis, sor, they're in + their bunks wishin' to die. They've niver been in a blow + before. It's say-sick they ar-re." + </p> + <p> + Both men were holding to the stanchion. + </p> + <p> + "Seasick!" ejaculated Madden. "How about Heck Mulcher and Ben + Galton?" he recalled the names on the list. + </p> + <p> + "The whole sit of navvies, sor, ar-re down on their backs, + not carin' at all, at all, whether we float, sink, swim, or + go to Davy Jones' locker." + </p> + <p> + "Well, Caradoc's next—come with me." + </p> + <p> + They took hold of each other and went sliding and slipping + along the iron deck, now skating down hill, now climbing a + sharp tilt, shoulders hunched against the gusty spume, until + they reached Smith's little cabin past the mess hall. Here + they paused and rapped on the door. As this could not have + been heard inside for the wind and the waves and the groaning + of the dock, they pushed open the shutter. + </p> + <p> + Madden no sooner entered than his nostrils caught a pervading + odor of alcohol. The Englishman's long figure lounged fully + dressed on a bunk; a demijohn was jammed behind his kit bag + to keep it from rolling. + </p> + <p> + "Smith!" called Madden, "I'll have to ask you to stand watch + to-night; nearly all the navvies are sick." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc lifted his head from the bunk and blinked at the two + men in the door. "What?" he asked vacantly. + </p> + <p> + "You're to stand watch to-night," Madden raised his voice. + </p> + <p> + "Stand watch!" cried the Englishman, sitting up, his face + flushing darkly under the bracket lamp. "You <i>have</i> + turned master, haven't you—bootlicker ordering me to + stand watch!" + </p> + <p> + "It's your turn on the list!" commanded Madden brusquely, + with ill-concealed disgust that Smith should be maudlin just + when needed. + </p> + <p> + "My turn—Bah! I'd have been mate myself if I had + toadied and flattered that upstart Malone as you did!" He + laughed sarcastically. "Then I could have had decent dinners, + been wearing the mate's sou'wester, been—" + </p> + <p> + "Cut it out!" snapped Madden. "Will you do your duty or not?" + </p> + <p> + The dock gave a great lurch that flattened both men against + the door, juggled Caradoc in his berth and sent kit bag and + demijohn sliding toward the visitors. + </p> + <p> + "Not!" bawled Smith. "I, Caradoc Smith-Wentworth, can't think + of going to stand watch for a gang of siz-seasick navvies an' + a t-toady American Yankee—Not!" he reiterated and + laughed in tipsy irony. + </p> + <p> + A flush of anger went over Madden. He reached down suddenly + and caught up the demijohn. + </p> + <p> + "You—you bet' not drink th-that, y-you little bossy + Yankee; it-it'll m-make <i>you</i> d-drunk." + </p> + <p> + "You sot!" trembled Madden. "Whiskey will not be your excuse + next time!" He caught the Irishman's arm, "Come on!" And + before Smith realized what had happened, the two men and his + liquor were out of the door and gone. + </p> + <p> + Madden slammed the shutter viciously, and the tilt of a wave + helped give it a loud bang. Then he gave the jug a wrathful + swing and smashed it against the nearest stanchion. + </p> + <p> + "Smith'll have some sense when he can't get any more," he + shouted in Hogan's ear. Then after a moment, "Is there nobody + else to take the watch?" + </p> + <p> + "There's Dashalong, sir," bellowed Mike, "but he stood last + night." + </p> + <p> + "How about you?" inquired Leonard. + </p> + <p> + "All roight." The Celt was about to turn for the high bridge + at the stern, when Madden stopped him. + </p> + <p> + "When was your last watch, Mike?" + </p> + <p> + "This afternoon, sor." + </p> + <p> + "When did Greer stand watch?" + </p> + <p> + "He's niver told anywan, sor; I think it must be a saycret." + </p> + <p> + "Get to your cabin and turn in," directed Madden. "I'll take + it myself till midnight, eight bells. Then send Greer." + </p> + <p> + Hogan saluted in the darkness and turned about for his cabin. + Madden began a careful journey aft toward the wheel. + </p> + <p> + He fought his way to the ladder and climbed up into the + night, sometimes clinging like a fly to the underside of the + reeling wall, sometimes going up a steep slant. Gusts of + spume and foam whipped him all the way up. Once on top of the + wall, he clung to the inside rail and began pulling himself + carefully around toward the rear bridge. At this height the + full force of the wind almost tore him from his reeling + anchorage. At last he turned onto the bridge and moved toward + the binnacle light. + </p> + <p> + "You'll find 'er a little 'ard, sir," remarked the steersman + as he turned over the wheel to Madden. "Good night, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Good night," returned the American, and he watched the + fellow's form disappear in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + Madden gripped the spokes of the wheel and fell to watching + the signal light in the center of the forward bridge and the + stern lantern of the distant tug. These two plunging spots in + the black void of night he must keep aligned. + </p> + <p> + The enormous dock leaped and shivered under his feet. Huge + waves roared by, of such vastness that Madden could hear + their crests crashing and thundering high above the level of + the bridge. These moving mountains shook tons of black water + into dim, ghostlike spray, and sent it hissing down into + cavernous troughs. The weight of the wind-swept spume + flashing out of darkness through the binnacle light almost + took the boy off his feet. It pounded his oilskin, stung his + face. The enormous iron dock groaned and clanged under the + mad bastinado. The long arms of the shoring stanchions smote + the walls in a kind of terrific anvil chorus to the blaring + orchestra of the tempest. The joints of the three huge + pontoons sounded as if they were being rent asunder every + moment. One minute the great structure would rise dizzily, + high into the black blast, a skyscraper flung up on a + mountain Madden could look far below on the lights of the + struggling <i>Vulcan</i>. Up there the storm yelled and + screamed at every corner and brace of the weltering dock, and + wrenched at the midget helmsman. Then came the sickening + drop, down, down, down, into the profound, and the + <i>Vulcan</i> would swing far above her towering consort. For + the instant the storm would be blanketed by the prodigious + waves. Wild, formless ghosts of foam would stretch wide arms + about the falling dock as if they were clasping it into the + lowest crypts of the dead, and the night would be filled with + a vast and dreadful whispering. + </p> + <p> + For hours it seemed that every ascent, every descent, must + mark the end. But the storm was so terrific, Madden's sense + of personal fear was blotted out in the tremendous conflict + about him. Indeed, there was something deeply moving, almost + gratifying in this elemental rage. Then he discovered that he + was taking a part in it. Mechanically he had been straining + and pulling at the wheel to hold those signal lights in line. + Now he realized that his tiny human force formed a third + contender in this vast battle. As he eased the great dock + down the rushing sheer of a wave so the shock would not break + the straining cable, he had won a point over two violent + antagonists. His puny arm, that could raise perhaps two + hundred pounds, was lifted against enemies that could fling + about billions of tons. Without his force, tug and dock would + part company instantly. Each watery mountain that he climbed, + each gulf that he fathomed, was a victory over infinite odds. + </p> + <p> + However, if the man worked with subtlety, the sea likewise + worked with subtlety. As the long hours of Madden's watch + roared by, one thing was borne in on the youth: the rudder + gradually was becoming harder to manage. Madden thought this + was caused by the rising storm and strained more rigidly + against the wheel. + </p> + <p> + Then, in the latter part of his vigil, an odd thing happened. + A blast of spray struck Madden with some slimy thing that + whipped about his neck and chest and almost tore him from the + wheel. With convulsive repugnance, he jerked it loose and + held the clammy stuff toward the binnacle light. He saw it + was seaweed. Presently more strands came beating down on the + spume to sting him. + </p> + <p> + The youth was crouching in his oilskins for protection, when + he was surprised by a hand laid on his arm. He looked around + and saw it was Deschaillon and the silent Farnol Greer. + </p> + <p> + "Eet makes bad weather," remarked the Frenchman, peering at + the dark rolling Alps about the dock. + </p> + <p> + "Good thing both of you came," shouted Madden, turning the + tiller over to the men. "It's as stiff as cold + molasses—how are the sick ones?" + </p> + <p> + The boy saw Deschaillon grin and twirl his pointed mustache + in the faint illumination. "Zay are very numerous," he + laughed. But the Gaul had no sooner swung his weight against + the wheel than his grimace vanished. + </p> + <p> + "Parbleu! Here, Greer, pull zis wheel with me!" + </p> + <p> + The two men caught the spokes and set their weight to it. + Greer remained silent. + </p> + <p> + "Zis ees bad!" exclaimed Deschaillon. "Zis wheel will not go + around!" + </p> + <p> + "What's the matter, do you think?" cried Leonard. + </p> + <p> + "Zee gear ees clogged, I think me." + </p> + <p> + "Go get a lantern and some men, Hogan—anybody who isn't + lifeless. We've got to do something!" + </p> + <p> + The Frenchman obeyed, hurrying off into the darkness. Leonard + resumed his place at the wheel with Greer to aid him. But + both men could not swing the big dock around. The tiller was + growing utterly unmanageable. Nearly every dash of foam + brought with it biting bits of seaweed now. The silent Greer + endured the whipping without wincing or speaking. Even in the + midst of their work, Leonard found time to wonder why this + fellow had stolen his medicine chest. + </p> + <p> + Presently the two helmsmen could barely turn the wheel. + Madden could feel the jerking of the cable even through the + great mass of pitching iron. Then the wheel clamped viselike. + The dock's headlight and the intermittent glow of the tug + teetered, swung out of line, crossed each other, like dancing + fires. In a sort of panic, the two strained at the solid + wheel. A huger wave came roaring by, flung the enormous + square prow high in air. As it fell off with a shock, Madden + felt a little quiver pass over the lumbering pontoons. The + dock ceased taking the upheaved water with her slow, + constant, aggressive movement. + </p> + <p> + The cable had parted! + </p> + <p> + Madden wondered dully what sort of cataclysm had occurred on + the little tug at that tremendous strain. + </p> + <p> + Both men still hung to the hand-grips on the useless wheel as + the dock rose and dropped, thundered and groaned. Now and + then from the storm-swept wave tops Madden could catch the + glimmer of the <i>Vulcan's</i> light. This slipped farther + and farther into the void, heaving night, then he saw it no + more. + </p> + <p> + A sense of vast desolation swept over the American, and he + was still staring into the black pandemonium ahead when + Deschaillon, Hogan and a third man came struggling toward + him. + </p> + <p> + "You may go back!" he yelled wearily above the uproar. "Go + back—there's nothing to do. The cable's broke—the + <i>Vulcan</i> is gone." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH4"><!-- CH4 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <center> + AN INTERRUPTED MEETING + </center> + <p> + Convinced that there was nothing else to be done on the big + dock, Madden went to his cabin, threw himself on the bunk, + and there tumbled and tossed through the stormy night, + sleeping brokenly and dreaming of the missing <i>Vulcan</i>. + </p> + <p> + Finally a bleary dawn whitened his cabin ports and the lad + scrambled into damp clothes, picked up the mate's battered + telescope and went on deck. + </p> + <p> + He fully expected to see the <i>Vulcan</i> lying close by, + but as he glanced around in the dull light, an extraordinary + scene shunted all thoughts of the tug from his mind. The wind + had lulled, but there still rolled high a most unusual ocean. + As far as he could see moved a long solemn procession of + hills covered with splotches and serpentine lines of grays, + olives, yellows—an ocean in motley. The great waves + wove these sinuous markings up and down, in and out, + confusing the eye with changing mazes. + </p> + <p> + Madden went forward and studied the nearer formations under + the dock's prow. This astonishing effect was caused by + seaweed. It was the seaweed spray of this seaweed ocean that + had whipped him during the night. + </p> + <p> + A glance toward the stern of the dock solved the mystery of + the balky steering gear. The temporary sheathing was choked + with the slimy stuff. Tons of it had beaten over into the + dock so that there was a week's work of cleaning ahead. The + whole interior of the pontoons looked gutted; empty kegs, + barrels had gone overboard, boats had been washed away, the + big coal pile was scattered like pebbles and some half of it + lost. And one odd trifle gripped Madden's heart—the + fresh paint over which the crew had toiled so patiently + looked old and dingy. + </p> + <p> + As he studied the scene, two seasick navvies tottered out on + deck to sniff the clean air. They dismally surveyed the + traces of the storm. Then they moved weakly toward the boy, + who was now scrutinizing the horizon with his glass. + </p> + <p> + "See any sign of 'er, sir?" asked Galton saluting. + </p> + <p> + Madden took down the binoculars. "Not a trace—feel + better?" + </p> + <p> + "Some better, sir, but my stomach is still like th' hocean, + sir, a bit unsettled. May I arsk where we are, sir? I never + saw such streaky water before." + </p> + <p> + "Sargasso Sea," replied Leonard. + </p> + <p> + Galton grunted and stared at the spangled waves. Under its + load of seaweed, the sea was falling rapidly, and presently + other seasick navvies came on deck. A dismal lot they made, + pasty and sick and draggled. + </p> + <p> + "You fellows that are able," Madden addressed the group, "get + buckets and shovels and pile up that scattered coal. The + exercise will make you feel better. When the sea is smoother, + we'll rig a jury mast on the forward bridge for a signal." + </p> + <p> + A few of the men were still too sick, but most of the crowd + shuffled off to work. Some of the laborers drew off their pea + jackets as they went, for the murky day was filled with a + rising humid warmth. + </p> + <p> + Coal piling was just getting under way in the heaving dock, + when the door to Caradoc's cabin swung open and the + Englishman stepped out. + </p> + <p> + A glance at the tall fellow told Madden how he fared. The + narrow-set eyes were inflamed, the long bronze face had lost + firmness and seemed inclined to sag in lines. + </p> + <p> + "Smith," called Madden friendlily, "you may help pile coal if + you feel like it." + </p> + <p> + "I—that demijohn that you took last night," began the + Briton nervously. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," Madden became serious. + </p> + <p> + "I want it, if you please." + </p> + <p> + Madden looked at the unstrung fellow. "Can't get it, Smith; + you've had too much already." + </p> + <p> + "Can't get my own property?" demanded Caradoc, raising his + voice so all the men could hear. + </p> + <p> + "No," snapped Madden, "you know sailors are not allowed to + keep liquor in their dunnage." + </p> + <p> + "That's my demijohn and I'll——" + </p> + <p> + "I smashed it, and the pieces washed overboard long ago." + </p> + <p> + "Overboard!" cried the big fellow. He turned hot eyes seaward + as if searching the waters, then for the first time noticed + the fantastic ocean around him. He stared at it with a + strange expression. + </p> + <p> + "What—what is that—where are we, Madden?" he + asked with a catch in his breath. + </p> + <p> + The fellow's tremulous condition touched the American. "Tug + broke away last night—we're adrift in the Sargasso." + </p> + <p> + A look of relief came over the long face, but he still gazed + at the serpentine patternings. "I—I thought I was + seeing—ugh, isn't it horrible!" + </p> + <p> + "You're unstrung, Caradoc; better go lie down," suggested + Madden in considerate tones. + </p> + <p> + The mood of the Briton underwent a characteristic quick + shift. "Me lie down?" he rasped. "I'll have my property. + You're grabbing authority fast enough, but you'll learn + Englishmen don't submit to impositions. Threw it overboard!" + he laughed with sour incredulity. "Bet you have it in your + cabin." + </p> + <p> + The men stopped work, gaping at the insubordination. Madden + flushed under the implication. He stepped forward to smash + the long insolent face and white mustache, but it was plain + the Englishman was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. + </p> + <p> + Madden caught himself, stood drawing short breaths through + expanded nostrils. "Go to your bunk, Caradoc, and wait till + you're sane," he ordered in fairly even tones, then turned + abruptly, leaving the big fellow scowling and biting his + choppy mustache. + </p> + <p> + The navvies turned back to their work, distinctly + disappointed; they had expected a fight. + </p> + <p> + Within the next few days the crew dropped into the routine of + derelict life. When the sky cleared and the sea flattened, it + left the big dock amid breathless heat beneath a molten + tropical sky. + </p> + <p> + As far as the eye could reach, the castaways saw no signs of + life, not a sail, not a smoke, not a gull, not even the + ripple of a wave; nothing but gaudy, motionless markings from + one flat horizon to the other, dead traceries that swiftly + became uninteresting, then monotonous, then disagreeable, + then maddening in the aching eyes of the crew. + </p> + <p> + As much for the mental health of the men as anything else, + Leonard worked them steadily. The day's work was divided into + morning and evening watches, because during the midday the + iron barge reached a temperature where labor was impossible. + During the cooler watches, the men painted desperately to + cover the black expanse of the dock with red in order to + reflect part of the palpitating heat rays. + </p> + <p> + Through the idle noon periods, the crew lay about on gunny + sacks under improvised awnings, with a man posted on the + forward bridge as lookout. + </p> + <p> + The colorful mazes of the Sargasso were as irritating as + flowered wall paper in a sickroom. Even Hogan's and + Deschaillon's spirits sagged under the brilliant sweltering + sameness. The navvies moved about half naked, and burned + brown as nuts. The men fought over trifles. Caradoc became a + raw mass of nerves. Once or twice Madden attempted to make + things pleasanter for his former friend, but was repulsed + rabidly. + </p> + <p> + Near sunset one day, the American was in the mate's cabin + trying to work out his daily reckoning. According to the + lad's inexpert calculations, the dock was drifting southeast + at the rate of some six or seven miles each day. The dock was + a prisoner in that vast central swirl between the North and + South Atlantic, that was swinging in stagnating circles when + Columbus sailed for the new world; it lay exactly the same + when the Norsemen beat down the coasts of Europe; it would + continue as long as Africa, Europe, and the Americas + deflected ocean currents to produce its motion. Its vast + flaring dial was the clock of the world, marking the passing + ages. In all that stretch of time the Sargasso must have + received strange prey, triremes, caravels, galleons, + schooners, men o' war, derelicts ancient and modern, but + certainly never before had the art of man placed such a + colossal and extraordinary fabric within its swing. + </p> + <p> + Some such thoughts as these passed through Madden's mind as + he pursued his reckoning through trigonometric tables. The + light fell redder and dimmer through the ports and he hurried + to finish his work before darkness required a lamp in the + steamy cabin. A furnace-like breath, laden with malodorous + ship smells, drifted in upon him. Madden's thin undershirt + clung sweatily to the muscular ridges down his back and + moulded the graceful deltoid at the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Madden pushed back his figures as Gaskin entered with a tray. + The cook's face was scarlet and dripping. + </p> + <p> + "How much provisions have we on board, Gaskin?" + </p> + <p> + "Another month's supplies, sir—most of the stores was + on the <i>Vulcan</i>, sir." Gaskin was dignified even in the + heat. + </p> + <p> + Leonard turned to his map showing the drift of the dock; she + was swinging farther and farther out of the trade routes + every day. The probability of a rescue steadily decreased. + </p> + <p> + "In the future, Gaskin, cut rations one third." + </p> + <p> + The cook covertly swabbed his fat jowl. "Yes, sir—are + we about to—" he checked his question. "Yes, sir," he + agreed instead. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," said Leonard, answering the half question, "it's a + very necessary precaution, and I hope this small reduction + will be sufficient." + </p> + <p> + "Thankee very much, sir." Gaskin made a little bob and + withdrew ceremoniously. Madden knew that Gaskin would + continue to bob and thank as long as he had strength to do + either. + </p> + <p> + Reducing the rations was not a sudden impulse with Madden. + Ever since the first expectation of the <i>Vulcan's</i> + return had lost its immediate edge, the American knew that + the hope of final rescue depended upon conserving their food + supply. + </p> + <p> + The Sargasso Sea is a great oblong whorl in the Atlantic some + four hundred miles wide and fifteen hundred long. Trade + routes cut along its northern boundaries, and skirt its + southwestern boundary. The dock might very well traverse two + thousand miles without seeing a sail. At a rate of six miles + a day, it would take eleven months to reach waters in which a + rescue might be hoped. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime, the men grew more and more intractable and + insubordinate. That day, when Madden had ordered Heck Mulcher + to paint in a certain place, the navvy had grumbled out a + "That's all very well for you, sir," and the rest was lost in + a mutter. + </p> + <p> + The uncertain discipline of his men made Madden hesitate to + cut the rations more decidedly. He felt that his command was + questioned by the sailors. + </p> + <p> + As the boy gloomily dispatched his own supper, his ear caught + a faint persistent tapping on the iron wall which faced the + mate's cabin. At first he paid no attention to it, assuming + it was the contraction of the iron in the cooling temperature + of the oncoming night that made the popping. But as he ate it + was at last borne in that these taps came in the irregular + but orderly sequence of a telegraphic code. + </p> + <p> + With this thought in mind, he listened attentively. In his + work as engineer he had had occasion to study up Morse in + heliographing. + </p> + <p> + It proved one of the most senseless messages the boy had ever + translated: + </p> + <p> + "Tiny arm, men plan mu." Then it was repeated, "Tiny arm, men + plan mu." This odd sentence was retapped four or five times + and at last ceased. It was perhaps some beginner learning the + code, but who in that crew could be working out the + telegraphic code? Leonard thought over the men, one by one, + but struck nobody who appealed to him as an incipient + telegrapher. + </p> + <p> + The American continued thinking over the incident idly, the + odd time the telegrapher had chosen to practice his art, the + queer message he had rapped out, when suddenly the message + whirled around in his mind, and he perceived he had begun + listening in the middle of a very alarming sentence, and had + been reading from one middle to the next. The message was: + "Men plan mutiny—Arm!" "Men plan mutiny—Arm!" + </p> + <p> + Madden got to his feet with nervous quickness, and stood + listening intently. The question of who sent the message now + became of sharp importance. If the men planned mutiny, he + could rely upon the telegrapher—perhaps. + </p> + <p> + There was still enough light in the steamy cabin to discern + objects. The American began rummaging through table drawers, + lockers and racks for some effective weapon, preferably a + revolver. + </p> + <p> + At that moment he heard footsteps approaching his cabin door. + An instant later the shutter swung open without the formality + of a knock and two dark figures entered. + </p> + <p> + "Well?" inquired the American sharply. + </p> + <p> + "It's us!" put in two voices at once. + </p> + <p> + "What do you want?" + </p> + <p> + "It's a bit of a disthurbance, Mister Madden, + that's——" + </p> + <p> + "Zat Smeeth," put in a pinched French accent excitedly, "he + says zare ees no mate, zat you——" + </p> + <p> + "Be quiet, Dashalong; th' gintilman can't understhand yer + brogue. Smith siz ye have no authority by rights; that we + should run things as we plaze; that th' bhoys should have all + they want to ate; that we should have rum with aitch male, + sor." + </p> + <p> + "And have you two fellows come to get these things?" inquired + Leonard in a hard voice. + </p> + <p> + "No, no, no," trilled out Deschaillon. "Eem-possible!" + </p> + <p> + "We sthrolled around to till ye, and bide wid ye a bit, and + whiniver th' romp starts, me and Dash here ar-re going to + swing partners, eh, Dash?" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, beg pardon," apologized Leonard frankly, "but I had just + been warned and I was looking for trouble—" + </p> + <p> + "Thot's all r-right, Misther Madden. We ar-re wid ye. I am + always for law and ordher, Misther Madden, aven whin I am + most disordherly," + </p> + <p> + "That ees true, he ees," nodded Deschaillon. + </p> + <p> + "And I always fight on th' wakest side no matther whether + it's roight or wrong." + </p> + <p> + "Hogan ees a chevalier, no matter eef he does have to paint," + corroborated the Frenchman. + </p> + <p> + "Are all the other boys in with Smith?" + </p> + <p> + "In with him, sor? Fr-rum th' way they stick around him ye'd + think he was a long-lost rilitive come back wid a million + pounds." + </p> + <p> + "I'm glad you fellows are with me, Mike. I was just looking + for a gun, but if you'll stand by me—" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, don't pull a pistol, Misther Madden. A man who would + pull a gun in a free-for-all—why he would smash th' + fiddles at a dance." + </p> + <p> + "As you deed not fight zee day Smeeth said you stole zee + whiskey, zee men—" + </p> + <p> + "Think ye'll be aisy," finished Hogan. + </p> + <p> + "I've just ordered a change in diet," observed Madden dryly. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, thin ye're goin' to give in to th' spalpeens?" + </p> + <p> + "No, I've cut rations one-third—and that goes!" There + was a finality about the dictum that reassured his allies. + </p> + <p> + "Uh-huh, Dashalong, I towld ye Misther Madden wasn't + no——" + </p> + <p> + The sentence was interrupted by more feet approaching + outside, then a heavy knocking at the door. The two men + automatically moved over to Madden's side and faced the + entrance. + </p> + <p> + "Light a lamp, Deschaillon," directed Madden crisply, + </p> + <p> + "Yis, two of 'em—I want to watch 'em fall out o' th' + tail o' me eye." + </p> + <p> + The Frenchman struck a match for his task. Madden invited the + men to enter. + </p> + <p> + The whole crew came through the door in an orderly but + somewhat embarrassed manner. A few of the men had on shirts, + some undershirts, others were stripped to the waist, their + torsos shining with moisture, Deschaillon's hand trembled + slightly as he lighted two bracket lamps, Hogan's little eyes + sparkled in anticipation. + </p> + <p> + "What is it, Galton?" Madden picked out the nearest man + bruskly. + </p> + <p> + Gallon shuffled his bare feet on the hot boards. "We hev been + thinkin'," he began in a throaty cockney voice, "that since + ye was not mate to begin with——" he looked back + over the crowd toward the real leader, Caradoc, for moral + support. + </p> + <p> + The men gave Smith an opening toward the American. In the + oppressive heat of the crowded, lamp-lit room everyone was + crimson and dripping except Caradoc, whose face was curiously + bloodless beneath its sunburn. + </p> + <p> + "If you are spokesman, Smith, what do you want?" demanded + Leonard with rising inflection. + </p> + <p> + "We are all workmen together," began Caradoc with an obvious + effort, panting in the heat. "We're working together, living + together, roasting together in this awful furnace. Your + authority was only meant for a few days. Now the + <i>Vulcan</i> is gone. Nobody knows for how long. We think + all men should share and share alike." + </p> + <p> + "All this demonstration to tell me you want me to eat at the + regular mess?" + </p> + <p> + "No," quivered Caradoc, "it's not just eating. We are not + pigs. We want a hand in running things, and we want a portion + of rum served at meals, as every decent ship allows. We + want—" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, so it's drink, not eating," satirized Madden. + </p> + <p> + "Rum's our right as sailormen," mumbled Galton. + </p> + <p> + "Rum in this climate?" Ridicule tinctured the American's + tone. "Smith, I believe you once proposed to write an article + on Climate and Alcoholism." He turned to the men. "Do you + fellows want to build a fire inside yourselves when your + lungs and hearts are strained to breaking already?" + </p> + <p> + "It cools you off in hot weather," answered a voice in the + crowd. + </p> + <p> + "Cools nothing! It heats you up." He leaned forward and + tapped the table decisively at each word, "It won't be + served, y'understand!" His last tap was a thump. "I'm boss + here—no rum! And I'll tell you right now, I'm going to + cut your rations one-third, too—hear? Now, get out, all + of you—move out o' my cabin!" + </p> + <p> + There was a shuffling among the navvies toward the arrowy lad + who confronted them. Deschaillon balanced himself on one leg, + French boxing fashion, ready to kick out with the deadly + accuracy of an ostrich. Hogan gave a brief happy laugh, + broken by his jump, the crack of his fist against some jaw + and the stumbling of a man. + </p> + <p> + As the fight flamed down the sweating line, Farnol Greer + suddenly rushed through the door. "This is mutiny!" he + shouted aloud. "Every man-jack will hang for it by the ship's + articles! I'm for you, Mr. Madden!" and he made a surprising + assault from the rear. + </p> + <p> + Madden and Caradoc squared away at each other. The Englishman + headed his men, his long face sinister in the lamplight. But + he had hardly taken a step when an absolute pallor whitened + his countenance, he halted, shaking, gasping, then flung back + an arm to Galton. + </p> + <p> + "I—I'm fizzled out!" he stammered with twitching lips. + "Go ahead—fight!" + </p> + <p> + "You'll hang—you'll hang for it!" bawled Greer, mauling + at the men behind. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc crumpled down on the floor. The navvies, with an + English dread of legal authority, hesitated, thinking perhaps + Caradoc had deserted them purposely to clear his own skirts + in the mutiny. + </p> + <p> + Madden instantly caught up the loose ends of his raveling + authority. + </p> + <p> + "Lay him on the bunk, Galton!" he commanded. + </p> + <p> + Galton obeyed instinctively, half carrying the long sagging + form to the bunk. + </p> + <p> + "Hogan!" he thundered at the cyclone on his right, "you and + Mulcher stop that! Stop it, Mulcher!" he turned to some of + the men. "Part 'em there! Stop 'em!" + </p> + <p> + Six navvies, three to the man, jumped and grabbed the + combatants. + </p> + <p> + "Just look, will you?" Madden pointed to Caradoc on the bunk. + "You fools have followed a man half mad with a sunstroke! He + has blown his nerves all to pieces with a rum bottle, and you + bunch of mush-heads have mutinied to give him more rum so he + could finish the job!" + </p> + <p> + The leaderless insurgents stared at Caradoc's still form, + then began filing out of the cabin. + </p> + <p> + "Deschaillon, get that medicine chest out of my bag!" + </p> + <p> + The Frenchman moved toward the bag indicated, when Madden + remembered. + </p> + <p> + "Here, come back, every one of you!" he cried. + </p> + <p> + The mutineers flowed in again, entirely subdued now. + </p> + <p> + Madden was loosening what few clothes Smith wore. He twisted + about, facing the crew. + </p> + <p> + "Some of you fellows stole my medicine chest," he accused + boldly. "I want it! The man who has it bring it here!" + </p> + <p> + The men stood very still, looking from one to the other + uneasily. + </p> + <p> + "Listen, men," repeated Leonard intensely, "I've got to have + it—understand? I don't mind your stealing it. I won't + say a word to you about that, but I'll manhandle the + scoundrel that's keeping it now!" + </p> + <p> + There was a growled chorus of protests. Madden quivered at + his impotence to put his hand on the thief in the crowd. + </p> + <p> + One of the navvies caught the expression on Madden's face, + and blurted, "If I 'ad it, I'd bring it back—'onest!" + </p> + <p> + Leonard suddenly recalled his suspicions. He looked at Farnol + Greer, whose timely shouting and attack had practically + quelled the rising. For a moment Madden's old friendship for + Smith and his new gratitude for this silent unknown youth + struggled, then he said: + </p> + <p> + "Greer, do you know anything about that chest?" + </p> + <p> + A look of blank surprise, then indignation went over Greer's + heavy serious face, then he said bitingly: + </p> + <p> + "You sure stand by your pal, all right," and moved out of the + cabin without another word. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc lay dry and burning on the hot bunk, his big hands + pressed to his forehead, eyes clenched shut. + </p> + <p> + "I don't know what to do!" cried Madden miserably. "Hogan, + Deschaillon, for God's sake, if you know anything about that + medicine chest, tell me—I'm not accusing anybody!" + </p> + <p> + "Sure, sure," cried Hogan sympathetically, "Oi'm sorry Oi + ain't got it. If Oi only had me chance again I'd stole it + long ago!" + </p> + <p> + "I'm sorree, but I never stole eet either, Meester Madden." + </p> + <p> + "If I only had bromide!" growled the American, watching + Smith's broad hairy chest lift and drop in short breaths. + </p> + <p> + The Englishman opened his hot red eyes. "What's that to you, + Madden?" he asked thickly. The choppy white mustache pulled + down in a sneer. "I might as well die now—I'm nothing + but a remittance man. A remittance man," he repeated the term + with mingled self contempt and bravado. "My people have + shipped me—flung me away, broken, no use," he flung out + a long hot hand at Madden. "Why do you try to pick up the + pieces?" He laughed thickly, which sent wild pains through + his head and stopped him suddenly. + </p> + <p> + Madden stared penetratingly at this outbreak. + </p> + <p> + "Pour water over him, Deschaillon, Hogan," commanded the + American briefly. + </p> + <p> + As his two helpers hurried out after buckets, Leonard came + close to the sufferer. + </p> + <p> + "Where is it?" he asked shortly. + </p> + <p> + "Where—what?" + </p> + <p> + Madden stooped over him. "Where's that medicine chest? What + did you do with it? You wouldn't have started that tirade + unless you had it." + </p> + <p> + "You Americans—very keen," panted Caradoc in the midst + of his rackings. "Think you're d-deuced smart—it's in + my bag's lining—there was some alcohol in it, so I took + it—let it go—don't do + anything—for—me." + </p> + <p> + Deschaillon entered with a bucket of seawater. They stretched + the sick man on the floor, and a moment later, the Englishman + shuddered under the deluge. + </p> + <p> + "This ought to be an ice pack," observed Madden, then: "I + believe I remember laying that medicine case in my old cabin; + I'll see," and he walked out of the mate's room into the + darkness. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH5"><!-- CH5 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <center> + SAIL HO! + </center> + <p> + Caradoc lay stretched out in a deck chair, on top of the + broad wall of the dock, a cool dawn breeze playing over him. + He looked across the motley sea toward an opalescent sky + reddening in the east. + </p> + <p> + "No," replied Madden without great interest, from his seat on + the rail, "I've no idea what you mean by a 'remittance man.'" + </p> + <p> + The Englishman's eyes strayed wearily from the limpid dawn to + the tiny image of a lion couchant on a small blue enameled + shield which he used as a watch fob. + </p> + <p> + "Among the English—" He paused and began again: "Among + a certain class of English families," he proceeded in an + impersonal tone, "when a member goes hopelessly astray, that + member is sent abroad to travel indefinitely. Remittances are + forwarded to him from place to place, wherever he wishes to + go, but—" there was a scarcely noticeable + pause—"he can't come back to England any more." + </p> + <p> + "O-o-h!" dragged out Madden in a low voice, comprehending the + man before him for the first time. + </p> + <p> + "So they are called remittance men—always remitted to." + Caradoc's long fever-worn face, that was filling out in + convalescence, colored momentarily. + </p> + <p> + "So that's what you were," said the American after a pause; + "a remittance man, simply drifting over the face of the + earth, supported by your family, boozing your life away, and + always longing to see England again?" + </p> + <p> + "You can put things so raw, Madden," responded Caradoc with a + ghost of a smile. "I <i>am</i>, not <i>were</i>." + </p> + <p> + "<i>Were</i>," insisted the American quickly. "Before your + collapse you were a confirmed alcoholic, but you are slightly + different now. Your eight days of fever, when Hogan and I had + to hold you in bed, must have burned you out, cleaned up your + whole system. You are nearer normal now than you were. You + have a fresh start. It's up to you what you do with it." + </p> + <p> + The Englishman looked at his friend with a sort of slow + surprise on his face. "I hadn't noticed it, but I don't + believe I do crave drink as keenly." + </p> + <p> + "No, sickness is often not so bad a thing as folks think. It + is nature's way of putting us right. Sometimes," he added + thoughtfully, "we crumple up in the process, but we can + hardly blame the old lady for that." + </p> + <p> + "You're an odd fellow, Madden," laughed Caradoc, getting + slowly out of his chair and stretching his arms. "Well, for + some reason or other, I feel fine this morning—let's + take a constitutional around the dock." + </p> + <p> + The young men walked off, side by side, and began the circuit + of the dock's quarter-mile outline. The breeze was such a + rarity in the becalmed region that the two paused now and + then to take long grateful breaths, and to watch the little + wind waves ripple the glassy Sargasso lanes. + </p> + <p> + As they walked, navvies came out with buckets brushes and set + to work painting the maze of iron stanchions that lined the + long interior of the dock. + </p> + <p> + "I'm afraid I'll have to stop that painting," remarked + Leonard after watching them a moment. + </p> + <p> + "They'll be very glad of it—but why?" + </p> + <p> + "It consumes too much energy. The men can live on less if + they quit work." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, I see." + </p> + <p> + "I think I shall have to cut their food down to half rations. + We've been adrift nearly sixteen days now and not a smoke + plume from the <i>Vulcan</i>. She has lost us—if she + didn't founder." + </p> + <p> + "Any chance of meeting some other vessel?" + </p> + <p> + "Here in the ocean's graveyard?" + </p> + <p> + "Are we far in?" inquired Smith with rising concern. + </p> + <p> + "Close to three hundred miles, and getting deeper every day." + </p> + <p> + The two walked on mechanically, with the precise step of + those who seek exercise. The rim of the sun cut the edge of + the ocean and a long trail of light made the east difficult + for their eyes. + </p> + <p> + "Any danger of starving?" questioned Caradoc, staring + moth-like at the blinding disc of flame. + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps not," meditated Madden. "I've been thinking about + it. As a last resort this seaweed is edible, at any rate + certain species of it. The Chinese and Japanese eat it, but + that isn't much of a recommendation to a European. Then the + water is full of fish that come to nibble at the stuff." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc was obviously inattentive to this consoling + information. "Yes," he murmured politely, "Japanese do nibble + at the fish." + </p> + <p> + Madden looked around at his abstracted friend, who was still + staring into the molten sunrise. + </p> + <p> + "When the Japanese come to nibble at the fish, we might get + some food from them," suggested Madden with American delight + in the ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps so." + </p> + <p> + "And fans, parasols, and little ivory curios—souvenirs + of the Sargasso, when we roll up the dock and take it home." + </p> + <p> + Smith nodded soberly, still gazing. + </p> + <p> + "What are you looking at, Caradoc?" laughed the American. + </p> + <p> + "I say, Madden, just look at that sun, will you? I thought I + saw a little black fleck against it straightaway to the east + right down on the horizon." + </p> + <p> + "You're injuring your sight, that's all," the American was + still smiling. "You know black specks will dance before your + eyes if you stare at the sun too long." + </p> + <p> + "But this was shaped like a sail," persisted Smith, staring + again. + </p> + <p> + "Illusion," diagnosed Madden promptly, but his eyes followed + Caradoc's eastward nevertheless. + </p> + <p> + As far as his sight could reach up the golden path, he saw + the black markings of seaweed; then his vision became lost in + a mist of illumination. However, in this region, he could + distinguish things dimly and in flashes. + </p> + <p> + Presently, in one of these clear instants, he saw flashed, + like the single film of a moving picture, the tiny black + silhouette of a ship's sail against the dazzling east. Next + moment it was lost in light. + </p> + <p> + "I told you!" cried Caradoc, getting his friend's expression. + "It's there! We've both seen it! A ship, Madden!" + </p> + <p> + Then he turned with more strength than Madden thought was in + him. "Sail ho, men!" he sang out. "A sail!" + </p> + <p> + "Come up, fellows, and take a look!" chimed in Madden just as + eagerly. "We believe we see a sail!" + </p> + <p> + The crew dropped work at once, and came climbing the ladder + up the deep side of the canyon like a string of monkeys; then + they came running across the red decking. + </p> + <p> + "Where?" "Wot direction?" "Where ees eet?" came a chorus of + inquiries. + </p> + <p> + The two were pointing and soon the whole crew was lined up + staring into the brilliance. Their fresh eyes caught the + glimpse immediately and held it long enough to make sure. + </p> + <p> + "A sail!" "There she is!" "Oi see her!" bellowed half a dozen + voices. + </p> + <p> + The whole crew fell into tense, happy confusion, laughing, + staring, yelling, speculating, slapping backs. + </p> + <p> + "Will she see us?" cried someone. + </p> + <p> + "Do ye think she'd overlook the whole west half o' th' sea, + Galton?" + </p> + <p> + "She weel run against us eef she cooms thees way." + </p> + <p> + "But she might not know we are in distress?" + </p> + <p> + "Disthress, is it ye're sayin'? We're not in disthress, ye + loon. This is th' happiest day o' me loife." + </p> + <p> + Leonard turned to the Irishman. "Hogan, go dip that flag on + the jury mast—wiggle it up and down—let 'em know + something is wrong—make 'em think we have the rickets + if nothing else." + </p> + <p> + Two men ran off with Hogan to the forward bridge; the others + stared, waved, shouted and let their excitement bubble down. + </p> + <p> + "But I don't understand a sailing vessel in these waters," + speculated Leonard. + </p> + <p> + "Maybe it's a derelick?" surmised Galton. "I've 'card as 'ow + this was a great place for derelicks." + </p> + <p> + "'Ow could she be a derelick," argued Mulcher, "w'en she 'as + so much canvas aloft? You run up on derelicks an' git sunk, + ever' cove knows that." + </p> + <p> + "I carn't think of hall these things at once!" retorted + Galton. + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps she ees the <i>Vulcan</i> under sail with deesabled + engines?" suggested Deschaillon. + </p> + <p> + This explanation was accepted unanimously and joy broke out + afresh. + </p> + <p> + "Why sure, th' <i>Vulcan</i>, th' good old <i>Vulcan</i>! + Now, lads, let's give three cheers and maybe it'll reach + 'er!" + </p> + <p> + Madden left the men trying to reach her with their bellows + and went below after the mate's binoculars. When he returned + the sun had swung up above the rim of the ocean and the sail + was plainly discernible. He leveled his glasses and his eyes + went searching among the distant markings of seaweed, until + it finally rested on the sail. The vessel was hull down. + There was nothing to see except a little canvas stretched + neatly aloft and ship-shape masts and spars. He observed her + attentively for some time. She seemed to be making very + little headway. All in all, Madden made little of the craft, + so he handed the glass to Smith. The Englishman was likewise + puzzled, and the binoculars went down the line of curious + men. + </p> + <p> + There was something in the way the youth named Farnol Greer + handled the instrument that caused Madden to ask: + </p> + <p> + "What do you make out, Greer?" + </p> + <p> + "She is lying to, sir. She's backing her tops'ls flat against + the breeze, and her mains'l's reefed and drawing with it." + </p> + <p> + "Lying to!" cried three or four voices. "W'ot does she mean + by that? Looks as if she'd be bloomin' glad to get out o' + such a bally place as this!" + </p> + <p> + "Let me have another look." Madden resumed the binoculars. + </p> + <p> + Now that Madden's attention was called to this unusual + disposition of the sails, he could make out their position + for himself. + </p> + <p> + This started another tide of speculation buzzing among the + castaways. Was the <i>Vulcan</i> crippled? Had she run short + of coal? But why should she voluntarily lay-to in the very + sight of her quarry? + </p> + <p> + "They're fishin'," surmised Deschaillon, "off in th' boats + fishin'; they're weethout food also." + </p> + <p> + This wild surmise was the only reasonable hypothesis that had + been struck on. Another group of men rushed for the jury mast + to show the fishermen that their presence was desired. At any + rate the faint breeze was very slowly bringing the two + vessels together. + </p> + <p> + If the men had been heretofore anxious that the cool breeze + continue, now their anxiety was redoubled. At any moment it + might die away and leave the <i>Vulcan</i> stranded beyond + communication. In painful uncertainty, they watched the tug + drag her hull slowly into sight, then slowly eat her way down + the long mazy lanes of the Sargasso. + </p> + <p> + Then, when she was well in view, Farnol Greer said: + </p> + <p> + "She is not the <i>Vulcan</i>, sir." + </p> + <p> + By this time all the men had their brown faces wrinkled up + against the glare of the sunshine. Now they redoubled their + gaze on the distant vessel. + </p> + <p> + "Faith, and sure enough she isn't!" cried Hogan. + </p> + <p> + Greer was right; the strange vessel was not the tug. She had + a funnel amidship and two masts, but there her resemblance to + the <i>Vulcan</i> ceased. + </p> + <p> + The crew stared, talked, speculated, until the sun swung up + like a white-hot metal ball in the sky, and the quivering + heat drove them below under the awnings. From here they could + still view the stranger, but not to so good advantage. The + breeze, by good fortune lasted till deep in the morning, but + finally dropped down in the blanketing heat, with the unknown + craft a good three miles distant. + </p> + <p> + The dock's crew could make out no sign of life as they + strained their eyes through the glare of tropical brilliance. + The high-lights of the schooner's reversed topsails and the + luminous shadows of her mainsail stood out vividly against + the hot copper sky. The multi-colored markings of the ocean + and the sharp line of the horizon finished a very picture of + pitiless heat. + </p> + <p> + The men stood beneath the awning, legs apart, arms held away + from bodies, and stared from under dripping brows for some + signs of recognition from the stranger. + </p> + <p> + "'Asn't she got up a single rag to show us she sees us?" + puffed Galton, swiping his hand across his forehead and + flinging drops on the iron deck, where they evaporated the + moment they hit. + </p> + <p> + "Don't see none," replied the navvy who possessed the + binoculars at that moment. + </p> + <p> + "'Ave they any boats?" + </p> + <p> + "One cleated down for'ard, one slung on the midship davits, + and I think I make hout one on t'other side past the booby + hatch." + </p> + <p> + "And not a soul on deck?" + </p> + <p> + "Not unless they're settin' on th' fur side o' th' + superstructure." + </p> + <p> + "Wot would they want to be settin' in th' sun for?" demanded + Galton brusquely. + </p> + <p> + "'Ow do I know? If they was Eth'opians, wouldn't they set in + th' sun?" + </p> + <p> + "This is as clost as we'll ever git," surmised another voice. + "The night breeze'll blow 'er back where she come from." + </p> + <p> + "Well, w'ere's that?" demanded Mulcher savagely. + </p> + <p> + "Why, Eth'opia, I reckon, if she's got a crew of Eth'opians + settin' on t'other side of 'er superstructure." + </p> + <p> + "They ain't a man-jack aboard; and you know it," snarled + Galton, "or 'e'd be poppin' 'is eyes hout at such a 'orrible + big sight as we must be." + </p> + <p> + "Anyway, I'll bet she blows back w'ere she come from, + to-night," persisted the advocate of this theory. + </p> + <p> + The men caviled on at each other endlessly, disputing, + denying, upbraiding, and once in a while coming to blows. + </p> + <p> + In order to keep any sort of discipline, Leonard and Caradoc + kept to themselves under a separate awning, for all + sea-faring experience has shown that a separation of officers + and men is necessary for the management of sailors. + </p> + <p> + However, Madden heard most of the arguments that went on + under the men's canvas, and he became convinced that the + sailor was right; the evening breeze would carry the schooner + away from the dock. He measured the long distance through the + sea lanes from dock to schooner with his eyes. + </p> + <p> + "Caradoc," he said to his friend, "if we ever reach that + vessel now's our time." + </p> + <p> + "How do you hope to do it?" + </p> + <p> + For answer Madden turned to the men. "Mulcher, bring me a + life buoy, will you?" + </p> + <p> + Mulcher arose and started on his errand. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc stared. "You don't intend to <i>swim</i> that + distance—through this heat?" + </p> + <p> + "There's a boat over there, and provisions, perhaps." + </p> + <p> + "And the crew?" + </p> + <p> + "It is quite possible that they sleep through the day which + is utterly becalmed and make some little headway at night + with the slight evening and morning breezes—it would be + a task for a sailing vessel to work herself out of the + Sargasso." + </p> + <p> + "Why I never thought of that. I suppose it is possible." + </p> + <p> + Mulcher was returning with a buoy. The crew came forward + behind the navvy, on the <i>qui vive</i> over this new + undertaking. + </p> + <p> + "Faith, and hadn't ye betther sind one o' th' min, sir," + suggested Hogan, "an if he drowns, sir, Oi would take it to + be a sign that it's a dangerous swim." + </p> + <p> + "An' the sharks, Meester Madden," warned Deschaillon. + </p> + <p> + As Madden kicked off his clothes, he observed Caradoc + stripping likewise. Then Farnol Greer came running down the + deck with another buoy and a big clasp knife. + </p> + <p> + The American looked at these fellows. "Caradoc, you can't + possibly hold out that distance; you're weak." + </p> + <p> + "I've done ten miles in—at home." + </p> + <p> + Greer said nothing, but rapidly undressed. + </p> + <p> + All three kept on their hats and undershirts as protection + against sunburn. As Madden walked from the awning through the + stinging sun rays, crimping up his naked feet from the + blistering deck, Galton called to him. + </p> + <p> + "If we git a lot of grub, sir, couldn't it be hextra, and + carn't we 'ave a spread to-night, sir?" + </p> + <p> + "Something like that," agreed Madden, tossing his buoy into + the water. The two other swimmers followed example, then all + three dived off the twelve foot pontoon toward their floats. + They came up shaking the water from ears and eyes. Madden was + immersed in tepid water. His men were cheering stolidly. The + schooner looked very, very far away now that he was at the + surface of the water. Between him and his goal streaked mazes + of sargassum. It suddenly struck the American that he might + have trouble getting through those barriers. + </p> + <p> + However, the three swimmers were progressing boldly. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH6"><!-- CH6 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <center> + THE CUL DE SAC + </center> + <p> + Madden thrust head and shoulders into his float, a round + canvas-covered hoop of cork, and set off at an easy stroke. + Now that he was flat on the water, he could no longer see the + lanes of seaweed, and he would be forced to depend entirely + upon signals from the dock. + </p> + <p> + Alongside Madden came Greer, and after them Caradoc. Like all + Americans, Leonard gradually increased his energy, and forged + ahead at a rate considerably faster than that required for + long distance swimming. Once or twice Caradoc warned the + swimmers to go more slowly, and at each monition Madden + slowed up a trifle, but within a few minutes he would again + speed up unconsciously. + </p> + <p> + The three swimmers could form little idea of the rate they + were making in the lifeless sea. At the end of half an hour, + when Leonard looked back at Hogan on the wall for signals, + the dock still loomed above him, a vast glare of red in the + dazzling sunshine. It seemed impossible to get away from it; + the featureless red flare followed him as a mountain peak + seems to follow a traveler. + </p> + <p> + The sun beat oppressively on his head and blistered his + shoulders through his net undershirt. The warm water soaked + the energy out of limbs and arms. He changed from breast to + over-arm stroke, then he shifted to the crawl and trudgen + stroke. + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps we'd better rest awhile, sir," suggested Greer, who + came puffing close behind. + </p> + <p> + "Beastly hot, this sun," Leonard ducked head and shoulders + under water for relief. His hat floated off and he grudged + the slight effort to retrieve it. + </p> + <p> + "How far are we?" + </p> + <p> + "Dock looks as close as ever—where's Smith?" + </p> + <p> + Greer nodded toward a small head and shoulders bobbing behind + a little white buoy. + </p> + <p> + At that moment, they heard the Englishman's voice calling, + "To the right!" + </p> + <p> + The boys turned and struck out ahead once more. They + regretted having to leave the straight line. As far as they + could see there was no algae in sight, the water was one + glassy blue. And the mysterious schooner, with its lights and + shadows exaggerated in the tropical glare, seemed to the + tired swimmers to be as remote as ever. + </p> + <p> + As Madden pressed on and on, changing strokes after the + fashion of tiring swimmers, the constant beat of the sun made + his eyeballs ache; the ocean felt like a Turkish bath; the + muscles in his shoulders, back and legs grew numb, with an + occasional cramping twinge. And what irritated him as much as + anything else was the fact that he was swimming toward the + right quarter of the schooner, throwing away his energy. + </p> + <p> + Just then Caradoc gave a distant call, "To the left." + </p> + <p> + With deep relief, Madden rounded back toward his goal. He had + swung about some unseen cape of algae. He looked back toward + the dock. Hogan, a very tiny figure, held his flag straight + up; that meant "dead ahead." + </p> + <p> + In relief Madden turned over on his back, laid his hat across + his face, then with hands resting on chest, he began sculling + along with knees and feet. + </p> + <p> + He did not know how long he swam in this fashion. Queer ideas + drifted through the lad's mind. He recalled standing on the + bridge of the dock as it went out of the Thames and wondering + what would happen. He had never anticipated anything like + this. It seemed that he had been swimming for days and weeks. + He reminded himself of those little kicking toys that never + get anywhere. He felt as if he were a June bug buzzing + helplessly at the end of a string. He kicked, kicked, kicked + under the broiling sun, in the hot water. The sweaty smell of + his hat band disgusted his nostrils. The crown of his hat + seemed to coop the heat over his face, sweat seeped into his + closed eyelids and stung his eyes. He gave his head a little + shake. The buoy slipped out and he bobbed under the tepid + water head and ears. + </p> + <p> + This jerked him out of his dreamy state. He whirled over, + struck to the surface, spat out brine, blinked his eyes. + Somebody was shouting something in an urgent voice. The noise + buzzed in his waterlogged ears. + </p> + <p> + "Hey, hello! What is it?" he cried, giving his head a shake + and putting on his hat. + </p> + <p> + "School of sharks!" shouted Greer, coming toward his leader + at a foamy speed. + </p> + <p> + "School of sharks!" echoed Madden with a sharp thrill. + "Where? Which way?" + </p> + <p> + "Must be toward the dock, sir!" panted Greer driving up. + </p> + <p> + "Where's Caradoc?" + </p> + <p> + "Yonder." He pointed toward a distant twinkle in the water. + </p> + <p> + "We must get together—yell to him, warn him!" + </p> + <p> + The two lads began a strenuous chorus that further used up + their exhausted strength. Caradoc responded by a wave of his + hand. Then when he understood "sharks" he gathered speed in + their direction. + </p> + <p> + By this time the dock seemed as far away as the schooner, and + was in reality probably farther. On the wall of the dock, + they could see Hogan's microscopic figure apparently having a + fit, against the coppery sky. No doubt from his height he + could make out the monsters. Perhaps Hogan could see the + great fish shooting along with sinister, exertionless ease + toward these clumsy adventurers—a school of trout + striking at three awkward beetles. + </p> + <p> + "Hey, Caradoc! Caradoc!" screamed Madden. "Straight for the + schooner!" The American stared around with tense nerves for + the little swishes on the surface that betray the attack of a + shark. + </p> + <p> + From something near middle distance, the Englishman raised a + hand toward his comrades and motioned them forward. + </p> + <p> + "Go on! Go on!" he gasped in a tired voice. "I'll catch you!" + </p> + <p> + Indeed, there was little to be gained from waiting. Caradoc + moved toward his friends with a long overhand stroke that + gave him the queer appearance of some huge water bug striding + along. Madden and Greer propelled themselves slowly toward + the schooner, waiting for their friend to close up. They + could not keep their eyes off the Englishman. Every moment + they expected to see him jerked under, or they expected to + see a huge shadowy form strike at themselves through the + clear green water. + </p> + <p> + Once Madden looked at the dock. Hogan on the rim of the red + flaring wall was flinging out all kinds of despairing + gestures. + </p> + <p> + By this time Caradoc was in hailing distance. + </p> + <p> + "Did you say sharks?" he called out in a dull voice. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sharks!" + </p> + <p> + "Where a way?" + </p> + <p> + "Don't know!" + </p> + <p> + At that moment a trickling thrill went through the American. + A long dark motionless shadow lay in the water straight in + front of him. He stopped swimming suddenly. + </p> + <p> + "Stop, Greer! Straight ahead!" he warned in a low tone, + easing himself carefully up on his buoy for a better look. + </p> + <p> + By this time the swimmers were nearly together and all three + stared ahead with painful intentness. + </p> + <p> + "That dark thing?" inquired Greer in an undertone, + </p> + <p> + "Yes, we ought to have a knife apiece." + </p> + <p> + "I never saw a shark lying still," panted Caradoc straining + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + "Say, that's a little streak of seaweed," decided Farnol, + beginning to move toward it. + </p> + <p> + Then all three perceived it was merely seaweed. The + shark-like illusion disappeared completely the moment someone + doubted it. + </p> + <p> + "Who cried out sharks anyway?" demanded Smith of Madden. + </p> + <p> + "Greer there warned me—he yelled 'school of sharks.'" + </p> + <p> + "Where did you see them?" inquired Caradoc of Farnol. + </p> + <p> + "You shouted school of sharks to me yourself," defended + Greer. + </p> + <p> + "I! I!" puffed Caradoc, whose spurt had blown him badly. "I + said nothing about sharks!" + </p> + <p> + "Well, what did you say?" demanded Greer. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc thought back fretfully. "I said we were running into + a <i>cul de sac</i>." + </p> + <p> + "A cool de sock!" repeated Greer with irritation. "What did + you want to say 'cool de sock' for?" + </p> + <p> + "I was calling to a gentleman," panted Smith with an edge of + temper in his tone, "and here you've swung us clear off our + bearings because you didn't know a common French + phrase——" + </p> + <p> + "French! I'm no Frenchman! Why don't you talk English!" + </p> + <p> + The two tired, worried, overheated men were rapidly brewing a + quarrel, when Madden interrupted. + </p> + <p> + "Look how close we are to that schooner! If somebody would + raise another shark alarm, we'd land plump on her decks." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, but this Zulu here has run us straight into a loop of + seaweed it'll take two hours' swimming to get out + of—<i>cul de sac</i>, school of sharks! Why the two + phrases scarcely resemble each other!" + </p> + <p> + Madden turned longing eyes toward the motionless schooner + that was not more than three-quarters of a mile distant. + "Say, it's too bad to turn around and swim away from that + vessel!" he lamented wearily, "and this sun is fierce!" + </p> + <p> + "I say let's try going through!" encouraged Greer. + </p> + <p> + "It'll be—difficult," warned Caradoc. + </p> + <p> + "Won't swimming clear around the earth be difficult?" + demanded Greer hotly. + </p> + <p> + "Proceed," agreed Caradoc tersely. "It's all one to me." + </p> + <p> + The boys adjusted their floats and once more began their + weary labor, all three disgruntled at the false alarm. As + they worked their way forward, clumps of seaweed, similar to + the first they had seen, thickened in their path. After a + long swim in and out, they reached a point where these + floating masses coalesced into an island, or a continent, + that swung far back toward the barge in the segment of a + great semicircle. Fortunately there were still open channels + in this main field, and one of them led toward the schooner. + They struck out up this estuary, which presently became so + narrow that they were forced to travel single file. + Occasionally their kicking feet would strike slimy filaments + in the water, but for a while the channel cheered the + swimmers, for they could now see they were making progress + toward the ship. + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later, however, they reached the end, and an + inexorable continent of slime lay between them and their + goal. Madden paused in the last yard of clear water, hung to + his buoy, his big biceps flattened on the canvas cover and + slowly blistering in the sun. + </p> + <p> + "All right, boys, close up," he panted; "let's stay in + helping distance of each other." + </p> + <p> + "Shall we try to take our buoys through, sir?" inquired + Greer. + </p> + <p> + "We'll start with them." + </p> + <p> + "Don't try to use your legs in the weed," warned Caradoc. + "Don't kick; you'll get tangled." + </p> + <p> + "We'll experiment and work through the best way we can. If it + turns out too bad, we can turn back, that's one consolation." + </p> + <p> + Just then, under Madden's astonished eyes, a queer thing + happened. The long open tongue of the sea which they had just + entered, silently closed up. It seemed to close very slowly, + and yet it was accomplished in an amazingly brief time. Some + dull movement in the Sargasso current had blocked the + adventurers with sinister precision. Madden felt the hot + slimy mass close softly around him. + </p> + <p> + It was now as easy to go forward as to return. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH7"><!-- CH7 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <center> + TRAPPED + </center> + <p> + There was something so sinister in this silent closing of all + avenue of retreat that for a moment Madden was dismayed, then + he struck out toward the schooner with a certain bold + weariness. + </p> + <p> + As an experiment he threw his buoy ahead of him by a snap of + wrist and forearm, then tried to swim to it. The long + yielding growth slid under and around him, but it took all + the dash out of his stroke. He pawed his way forward with his + arms, legs stretched out idle. A thousand wet sticky fingers + dragged their length over his body, retarding, clogging, + holding him. It left him stranded like a bug in gelatine. His + flesh crawled at this slimy swimming, he shrank from it, and + it sapped his heart and strength. + </p> + <p> + The only stroke possible was the overarm, and his hands fell + with a gummy plop instead of the heartsome splash of open + water. By the time he reached his buoy and threw it again, he + regretted miserably that he had not swum the clean water + route if it were five miles farther. + </p> + <p> + By the time he had thrown his buoy twice, he could hardly + advance it a yard beyond his reach; finally it simply slushed + along the surface. The sun seemed much hotter in this + congestion than in the open sea. + </p> + <p> + Behind him came his two men in a queer snakelike procession + of plopping buoys and wriggling bodies. Ahead of them the + seaweed stretched, apparently all the way to the schooner. As + they worked their way through the scum of many seas, the noon + sun broiled their backs into thin water blisters, and stewed + saline odors out of the clammy life about them. + </p> + <p> + Once Madden's hand struck a yellowish line of algae and a + score or two of little jelly-like insects writhed into the + grass below. One of these things touched the swimmer's arm + and gave the boy a stinging sensation. He knocked it off + desperately and pushed on. + </p> + <p> + Presently his shoulder muscles ached and burned so keenly, he + could no longer continue the overarm. Then he took the buoy + in both hands, held it straight out, thrust it edge down into + the oozy substance, used it as a kind of anchor and drew it + to him. At first this technique seemed to advance him + somewhat, but presently he appeared merely to disturb the + viscous mass without going forward. He grew acutely + discouraged; his back, shoulders, cramped, ached and burned. + The brilliantly lighted schooner seemed to regress as he + progressed. The sun was like an auger boring into the back of + his head. His mind began to wander again, and a sudden fear + came on him lest he should go insane out in this horrible + slime. + </p> + <p> + A fiery burning on his right foot jerked him back out of his + half delirium, and he knew that an insect of the same kind he + had seen a few minutes before had stung him. He kicked it off + convulsively, but the thrust of his foot brought a wash of + new stings. + </p> + <p> + All of a sudden, his patience, endurance, pluck seemed to + give out. This new torture made him as unreasonably frantic + as a baby. He kicked furiously. He scraped the toe nails of + one foot against the flesh of the other leg. As he did so the + animalculae settled on the abraded skin, like streaks of + melted steel. The boy doubled up, like a grub worm covered + with ants, fighting, scraping, twisting, squirming. He + writhed, beat, scratched, this great hundred and sixty pound + animal fighting an enemy that would weigh about twenty to the + gram. + </p> + <p> + He heard a shout from Caradoc, a question from Greer, then + his insane struggles carried him under the surface of the + clammy seaweed. The seaweed, infested with stinging insects, + closed over his form like a wave of fire. + </p> + <p> + Only lack of breath stopped Leonard's mad struggles. Bursting + lungs and the mere necessity to live at last made him + disregard the attacks of these wasps of the Sargasso. He + struck out for the surface again like a diver, reaching up + arms, spreading legs with a stroke and a kick. But the + gelatinous stuff simply quivered with his struggles and held + him firm. He stuck like a fly in mucilage. + </p> + <p> + The sliminess of the element utterly destroyed the mechanics + of swimming. A forward stroke in pure water displaces + portions of the water and the return stroke sends the body + forward. In this mass the forward stroke merely compressed + the weed in front of the arm, and left a cavity through which + the return stroke received no power. + </p> + <p> + Madden dared not open his eyes. In fiery blackness he kicked + and struck in useless froglike movements. His heart was + beating like a trip-hammer in his ears. Streaks of red fire + played against the blackness of his eyelids. He knew that in + a few more seconds his straining lungs would gulp in the + stinging ooze, he knew his will could not prevent his drawing + in some sort of breath. + </p> + <p> + He clung desperately to the control of his diaphragm, as a + falling man clings to a ledge of rock. His great chest + muscles gave convulsive jerks. His control was going, going. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a human hand gripped his wrist. He was jerked + upwards, perhaps a foot. A moment later he was gulping in + great lungfuls of air. + </p> + <p> + He had been suffocating ten or twelve inches beneath that + repulsive slime, as securely captured as if he had been a + thousand feet deep. + </p> + <p> + It had taken Greer and Smith that length of time to wriggle a + yard or two and fish him out. + </p> + <p> + "Steady! Steady!" said Caradoc in a lifeless voice. "Steady + there, Madden! Hold him tightly, Greer!" + </p> + <p> + Greer made some sort of groaning reply, when Caradoc snarled, + "Let 'em sting, you scullion! What if they do kill you! Is + there any better way to die?" + </p> + <p> + Madden felt a great pushing and jostling at his body. He + raked the seaweed from his face and opened his eyes. The + Englishman was shoving fiercely at the American's shoulder, + Greer, ahead, pulling at an elbow. The burning insects had + swarmed on both his rescuers. Caradoc's sun-baked face had a + yellowish, bloodless hue, his lean jaws clenched under his + choppy white mustache. In the midst of his burning pain he + held his legs rigid, pushed Leonard with one hand and pawed + furiously through the viscid tangle with the other. + </p> + <p> + The constancy of his companions braced Madden like a dash of + ice water. His own weakness had brought about this dangerous + plight. The American caught up his buoy, and between great + gasps of the blessed air, rapped out that he could go by + himself, and began making his own way forward. + </p> + <p> + So the three worked themselves over the oozy bed of fire. The + Englishman's arms shot into the slime with the regularity of + pistons. He appeared to make no haste, yet he made remarkable + speed. Only his distended nostrils, pain-tightened mouth, + grim eyes, showed that he was in torture. + </p> + <p> + Even amid his own suffering Leonard felt a thrill of + admiration for Smith's endurance and working power. He even + found time to wonder dimly if Smith's people, that rich, + cold, proud family, if they could see their remittance man + now, would not stoop to claim him as a kinsman. + </p> + <p> + All at once the poignant and disgusting attack of the insects + ceased. A flood of ecstatic relief swept over the + adventurers. Without a word, all three quit squirming, caught + their floats under their armpits and swung down in a limp + luxurious rest. + </p> + <p> + Then they saw a marvelous thing had happened. The same slow + swirl of the Sargasso current that had closed up their avenue + on the west side, had opened another on the east. Their way + toward the schooner lay unobstructed. + </p> + <p> + The clean delightful seawater soothed the pain of their + stinging flesh. + </p> + <p> + "We'll be there in fifteen minutes," murmured Leonard weakly. + </p> + <p> + "When you're ready, say so," said Greer with a frown still + lingering on his heavy face. + </p> + <p> + At that moment Madden heard a groan from Caradoc. + </p> + <p> + "What's the matter?" aspirated the American. + </p> + <p> + "Nothing—weak—don't bother." He closed his eyes, + blew out his breath like a sick man. His face was bloodlessly + sallow, and Madden could see his grip slipping on the canvas + buoy. + </p> + <p> + "You're all in!" gasped Madden in exhausted staccato, "I knew + you oughtn't to—aren't you about to faint again?" + </p> + <p> + The Englishman shook his head slightly. "Don't worry," he + murmured, then his eyes closed, his hands slipped loose. + </p> + <p> + With brusque directness, Madden caught the shock of tawny + hair, jammed Caradoc's chin against the buoy and held him + tight with little exertion for himself. Smith swung out as + awkwardly as a turkey on a chopping block. The water was + level with his lips, but his nose did not go under. + </p> + <p> + "Petered at last," grunted Madden, staring at the corpselike + face in dull speculation. "How in the world are we going to + get him out of here?" + </p> + <p> + "I guess we can tow him out, sir," growled Greer with dull + indifference. "Mighty puny chap—always flopping over + when he's in a tight place." + </p> + <p> + "Come here, stick his arms through our buoys, put his own + under his head!" + </p> + <p> + The plan was quickly carried out and Smith's unconscious form + was placed beyond immediate danger. + </p> + <p> + The two youths took up their long swim once more. As they + moved down the opening, they could see what slow progress + they were making. Presently Madden explained in a low + whispering tone: + </p> + <p> + "His heart's bad... can't stand much... poisoned with + alcohol." + </p> + <p> + Another pause filled with slow weary swimming, then Greer + said: + </p> + <p> + "Said I was no gentleman... didn't know a French word... I + keep sober." + </p> + <p> + Madden made no defense to this reflection on the unconscious + Englishman, but after a while he said: + </p> + <p> + "We ought to overlook lots in him, Greer—unfortunate + fellow... there's good in him, Greer... bad too." + </p> + <p> + "I've got no call to please you," growled the sailor with + astonishing frankness. + </p> + <p> + "Then why did you come with us?" inquired Madden amazed. + </p> + <p> + "Wanted to see the schooner." + </p> + <p> + "And what have <i>I</i> done to <i>you</i>?" + </p> + <p> + "Called me a thief!" the sailor elevated his dull tone. + "After I telegraphed ye about th' men... fought for ye... + called me a thief!" + </p> + <p> + "Was that you tapping on the dock?" + </p> + <p> + Greer nodded resentfully. "And ye insulted me for it." + </p> + <p> + "I'm sorry... I was almost wild that night. I'll apologize... + before the crew." + </p> + <p> + "I don't care nothing about that dull English crew." This + strange fellow's tone carried in it an illiterate man's + undying resentment. + </p> + <p> + "Since you feel that way," panted Madden at last, "I think I + ought to tell you—he took the medicine chest," Leonard + nodded at the finely carved motionless face that lay on the + float before them. + </p> + <p> + "Him!" gasped Greer. + </p> + <p> + Leonard nodded. "He wanted the alcohol in it." + </p> + <p> + "And you call him a <i>gentleman</i>?" + </p> + <p> + Leonard nodded again. "Somehow I still call him a gentleman. + He's hurt, sick, bruised, but he's a gentleman." + </p> + <p> + "Well I don't!" + </p> + <p> + At that moment, the buoy under Caradoc's head bumped into a + wooden wall and upset their swimming arrangements. + </p> + <p> + They were under the overhang of the mysterious schooner. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH8"><!-- CH8 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <center> + THE MYSTERY SHIP + </center> + <p> + Waves from the exhausted swimmers sent bright streaks of + watershine wavering up the green hull over Madden's head. + Utter silence pervaded the vessel. There was no creaking of + spar or block. Hot tar stood in her seams in the beating + sunshine. + </p> + <p> + The boys kicked wearily through the tepid water to the + schooner's prow, where Greer succeeded in catching the + bobstays and climbing aboard. A little later he lowered a + rope to Madden with a double bight in it. The Yankee made the + Englishman fast in the loops, climbed on deck himself and + helped haul the unconscious fellow aboard. + </p> + <p> + The two boys lugged the senseless man wearily across deck + into the shade of the superstructure, then in default of any + better restorative, Leonard began slapping the bottom of the + Englishman's feet to revive him. Presently Caradoc groaned, + drew up his legs. + </p> + <p> + "He's coming around all right," said Greer, then he looked + about him. "What do you make out of this anyway, Mr. Madden?" + </p> + <p> + Leonard glanced around and did see a remarkable derelict. The + schooner was as newly painted and trig as if fresh from the + ways. Her deck was holystoned to man-o'-war cleanliness; + every sheet, hawser, stay, tackle, pin, spike, was in place. + Three small boats, her full complement, hung in davits. On + the bow of these boats, on their oars and buoys, was painted + the name of the schooner, "Minnie B." + </p> + <p> + From the port side of the vessel there stretched a long cable + patently leading to a sea anchor. All sails were brailed + except mains'l and tops'l, which were reefed and set against + each other to hold her steady in case of a blow. The funnel + was freshly painted black with a red band at the top. Judging + from her appearance, the desertion of the <i>Minnie B</i> had + been carefully planned. Yet why desert a new vessel? By what + means did the crew leave the schooner, since all her small + boats remained? + </p> + <p> + What was their motive in anchoring the <i>Minnie B</i> in the + middle of the Sargasso? + </p> + <p> + There appeared to be no easy answer to these questions. + </p> + <p> + "I don't understand this," said Greer, in answer to Madden's + unspoken perplexity. "Where did the crew go, sir, and how did + they go?" + </p> + <p> + "They might have deserted her for her insurance," suggested + Madden tentatively. + </p> + <p> + "Then why didn't they scuttle her—besides, a new vessel + like this is worth more than her insurance." + </p> + <p> + "Maybe it was her cargo. Perhaps they faked it, rated it away + above its value." + </p> + <p> + "Why she has no cargo, sir. She's riding light as a skiff; I + noticed that as I climbed up." + </p> + <p> + "Then what is your idea?" inquired the American. + </p> + <p> + Greer glanced around with a trace of uneasiness. "The crew + went by the board, sir, I'm thinking." + </p> + <p> + "Overboard—all washed overboard! Why there isn't one + chance in a million of such a thing hap—" + </p> + <p> + "I didn't say 'washed overboard,' sir," corrected Greer + heavily. "I think they got throwed overboard, one by one, + sir." + </p> + <p> + "One by one!" Madden stared at the solemn faced fellow. + </p> + <p> + Farnol nodded stolidly. "Just so, sir." + </p> + <p> + "You mean—?" + </p> + <p> + "The plague, sir." + </p> + <p> + "O-oh!" The American stared around the deck with new eyes. + Greer's explanation struck home with a certain + convincingness. The mere thought of disease-laden + surroundings filled him with alarm. Could they have + unwittingly wandered into a deserted pest-ship? A focus of + death in these rotting seas? The very air he breathed, the + wood he touched, might inoculate him with malignant germs. + Then he began reasoning on it. + </p> + <p> + "Even if it were the plague, there ought to be someone left + aboard, Greer, a last corpse." The American sniffed the hot, + breathless, tar-scented air. + </p> + <p> + "He could well have gone crazy, sir, in this heat and + followed his mates overboard—but we can look and see." + </p> + <p> + At this moment, Caradoc stirred and pulled himself to a + sitting posture on the burning deck. + </p> + <p> + "You—you pulled me aboard?" he murmured weakly, looking + about with the face of a corpse. + </p> + <p> + "How do you feel—anything I can do?" + </p> + <p> + "If I had a dr—" he broke off, drew a long breath. + "Nobody aboard?" + </p> + <p> + "If you're all right, Greer and I will take a turn below and + see what we can find," suggested Madden. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc nodded apathetically and stared seaward toward the + cable sagging into the dead ocean. + </p> + <p> + The two boys moved gingerly up to the hatchway that led down + to the forecastle. If disease had smitten the <i>Minnie B</i> + they hoped to get some clew from the taint of the sailors' + quarters. Greer stuck a nose down the ladder first. Beyond + the usual close ship smells there seemed to be nothing wrong. + Then they climbed down. + </p> + <p> + Here again they found order. The bunks against the bulkheads + and the curve of the prow were clean with neatly rolled + blankets. The lockers were open and empty. The two searchers + climbed out and walked aft to the lazaret. They were rapidly + getting over their fright of the plague. Again Greer entered + first, and this time Madden heard a loud snort of disgust. + </p> + <p> + Half expecting some sinister sight, Madden ran down the three + steps and entered the storeroom. But what had roused the + sailor's dislike was that the lazaret contained no + provisions. It was as empty as the forecastle; not a chest, + not a canister, not even a spice box remained. Here again the + lockers were open and empty. From one of the keyholes hung a + bunch of keys. The steward had deserted his ring, knowing it + could never be of service to him again. + </p> + <p> + The little metal bunch hung straight down without the + slightest oscillation. Such lack of motion and life amid the + close stewing heat of the lazaret threw a glamor of unreality + over the whole affair. The schooner might well have been + warped to a dock in some port of the dead. The very newness + of everything accentuated its amazing loneliness. + </p> + <p> + "Doesn't seem real, does it?" said Greer in a low tone, + drawing a long breath in the heat. "I keep listening." + </p> + <p> + Madden shook himself. "It seems as if someone ought to be + aboard." He broke away from the spell: "I wish they had left + us some provisions—we need 'em." + </p> + <p> + The hot heavy silence fell immediately after the remark, like + a curtain that was heavy to lift. + </p> + <p> + "Let's look through the hold and see if there <i>isn't</i> + someone here!" suggested Greer uneasily. + </p> + <p> + With a feeling that they were likely to encounter some being, + human or spectral, at every turn, they went below. The + farther they went the more inexplicable became the <i>Minnie + B's</i> desertion. Her engines were in perfect order, her + furnace so new that the grate bars were still unsealed from + heat; the maker's name-plate was still bright on the boilers; + her hull was quite dry, with less than six inches of water in + her bilge. She had no cargo, except four or five tons of raw + metal ingots used as ballast. The coal in her bunkers was + nearly exhausted. Indeed she was riding so light that heavy + weather would upset her like a chip. It seemed as if the crew + had looted the <i>Minnie B</i> in a thorough and + extraordinary manner, and then had simply vanished. Every now + and then in their search the two would find themselves + standing motionless, open-mouthed, listening intently to the + brooding silence. + </p> + <p> + More puzzled than ever by these explorations, the two + adventurers climbed into the chart room. Here, also, + everything was intact, and in order. In a desk they found the + ship's log and clearance papers. The captain's and the mate's + licenses hung in frames against the wall. Near these was + tacked the picture of a sunny-haired little girl and + underneath it was written the name "Minnie." So the schooner + was the little smiling-faced girl's namesake, this + tragedy-haunted abandoned vessel. A Mercator's projection lay + thumb-tacked on a table, and the last position of the + schooner was indicated by a pin sticking in the map. + </p> + <p> + Madden moved over to it eagerly, hoping this pin would give + him some inkling as to where the disaster, if there had been + one, occurred. He noted the latitude and longitude indicated + by the marker, then turned excitedly to Greer. + </p> + <p> + "Look here!" he cried, "this pin marks our position at this + moment. We are right here!" he touched the point on the map. + </p> + <p> + "How do you know it does?" + </p> + <p> + "I calculated the dock's position this morning." + </p> + <p> + "Well, what of that? She will probably lie here till she rots + in this stagnant sea." + </p> + <p> + "That's the point: This is not a stagnant sea. There is a + current of about six miles a day in the Sargasso, very slow, + but it will change a ship's reckoning." + </p> + <p> + Greer remained unimpressed. "What do you make of that?" + </p> + <p> + "Make of that! Why, man, the person who took this reckoning, + took it <i>this morning</i>! That's the only way he could + have got it. There was somebody on this schooner this morning + when we sighted her." + </p> + <p> + "This morning! This <i>morning</i>! Where in Davy Jones' + locker——" + </p> + <p> + Madden was leaning over the chart scrutinizing it with + careful eyes. At last he raised up in complete bewilderment. + </p> + <p> + "Farnol," he said in a queer tone, "the crew meant to come + here! Meant to sail through the Sargasso—clear away + from all trade routes—incomprehensible but—just + look!" + </p> + <p> + Both boys bent above the chart, and Madden silently pointed + out a row of pin holes that marked the daily reckonings of + the <i>Minnie B</i>. She had sailed from Portland, Maine, had + swung up the northern route past Newfoundland Banks as if + going to England. On this portion of her voyage her average + run was a little less than two hundred knots a day. On the + fifth day out, the <i>Minnie B</i> inexplicably deserted the + normal trade course, turned from "E. NE." and sailed directly + "S. SW." At the same time her speed was accelerated to a + trifle over three hundred knots a day. Her last reckoning + left the pin sticking in the exact longitude and latitude + which Leonard had worked out for the dock that morning. + </p> + <p> + "They got in a hurry when they did turn south," said Greer + vacuously. + </p> + <p> + "They certainly burned coal from there to here." + </p> + <p> + "But what could have put her in such a rush, sir?" + </p> + <p> + "She must have sailed somewhere after a cargo, and later + received a cancellation of the order. With that cancellation + there must have come a new commission with a time limit, from + some of the South American ports, I should judge by her + course, say Caracas, or Paramaribo." + </p> + <p> + "But she has no wireless, sir. She couldn't have changed her + destination." + </p> + <p> + "That would be fairly easy to explain. There are so many fast + liners with wireless between New York and Liverpool, it would + be a simple matter to get a message signaled to a sailing + vessel in the trade route." + </p> + <p> + "But I can't see why she sailed through the Sargasso?" + </p> + <p> + "If the time factor had been urgent enough, she might have + tried to shorten her journey by coming this way instead of + following the usual course by Cuba and through the + Caribbean." + </p> + <p> + "That doesn't tell what happened to the men." + </p> + <p> + Madden shook his head and wiped the sweat from his face on + his undershirt sleeve. "Let's read the log. That ought to + clear up things a bit." + </p> + <p> + Both lads hurried over to the desk, drew out the greasy, + well-thumbed book. In their excitement, they forgot rank and + tried to read together. + </p> + <p> + "Let me read it aloud," compromised Madden. + </p> + <p> + Dripping with sweat, they leaned on the hot desk and went + carefully over the log of the <i>Minnie B</i>. + </p> + <p> + The record was simple. The <i>Minnie B</i>, of Leeds, + England, sailed from Portland, Maine, for Liverpool on July + thirtieth with a cargo of lake copper in bulk bound for + Liverpool. For the first five days, her log was written in + two heavy unscholarly hands, which alternated with each + other, and were evidently those of the mate and the captain. + These two handwritings were quite distinct from each other + and contained the usual notes of prevailing winds, state of + weather, speed, distance indicated by patent log, dead + reckonings, vessels sighted and such like. + </p> + <p> + From the sixth to the twentieth day, the log of the <i>Minnie + B</i> was written in a sharp, pointed, scholarly hand, and + this record was confined to the mere relation of distances + and reckonings. Then on the twenty-first day of August there + appeared the following entry: + </p> + <p> + "46° 57' W. Long. 27° 24' 11" N. Lat. No wind. + Sargasso Sea. Current 9.463 kilometers per 24 hrs. W.SW. Cast + sea anchor. Five hundred tons ingots reshipped." + </p> + <p> + At this statement, Leonard turned and stared at Greer. + </p> + <p> + "Reshipped! Reshipped! Holy cats, Farnol! Reshipped from + here—right here!" He jabbed a finger downward to + indicate the spot in the dead Sargasso Sea occupied by the + <i>Minnie B</i>. + </p> + <p> + Greer shook his head dully. "But this is all the + wildest—" he made a helpless motion. "You oughtn't to + think about it, sir, or you'll be going overboard, too. + Reshipped!... This heat will get anybody in time.... The man + who wrote that went and jumped overboard the next minute no + doubt. Reshipped..... It ain't good for us to read it, sir." + </p> + <p> + "But something's gone with her cargo, Greer!" declared Madden + vehemently. "Something's gone with it. I don't care how crazy + the crew became they surely wouldn't have dumped a hold full + of copper into the sea. This log says 'reshipped' and blessed + if I don't believe—" + </p> + <p> + At this moment the boys seemed to hear the sound in the + deathly silent vessel for which their ears had been all the + time straining. Madden broke off abruptly and both stood + listening with palpitating hearts. It was repeated. A + repressed half groan, inarticulate, as if some human being + were in distress. It was in the main cabin below them. + </p> + <p> + Hardly daring to guess at what they would see, the + adventurers crept silently out of the chart room, down a + short hot passageway to a door. Leonard caught a breath, then + opened it without noise. + </p> + <p> + In the brilliant westering light that flooded the main cabin + through the port holes, Madden saw a dining table, disordered + as from a recent feast. On the floor around it were fragments + of smashed glasses and bloody stains. A cut glass decanter, + half full of wine, sat on the table, and in a corner of the + cabin shrank the figure of a man. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH9"><!-- CH9 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <center> + A MODERN COLUMBUS + </center> + <p> + Hardly knowing what to expect the two advanced into the + cabin, when the figure turned and looked at them with pallid + countenance. + </p> + <p> + "It's Caradoc!" cried Madden in great astonishment and + relief. "Scots, Smith, you gave us a jolt! We + thought—what's the matter, old chap? Heat again?" + </p> + <p> + The Englishman's long face was strained. "Would + you—take that decanter away, please!" he begged + unsteadily. + </p> + <p> + Instantly Leonard understood the temptation into which + Caradoc had unwittingly wandered. A strong odor of wine + pervaded the cabin, and Smith's knock-out had given his + nerves a great craving for a stimulant. + </p> + <p> + Without a word, Leonard walked to the table, took the wine + bottle by its neck and heaved it through the open port. The + three men in their half costumes stood listening intently + until it chucked into the sea below. All three seemed to feel + relief at the sound. + </p> + <p> + "That's all right, Caradoc," said Madden with a note of + comfort in his voice, "all right, old chap. It won't be like + this always." + </p> + <p> + "I was unstrung—rotten heat," grumbled the Englishman + in acute self-disgust. "I thought I was getting over + all—" he shifted the topic suddenly: "What do you make + out of all this?" + </p> + <p> + "Completest mystery I ever ran into—the crew deserted + for some reason——" + </p> + <p> + "And they had a feast and a celebration before they went. + What cause of rejoicing they discovered in this place is more + than I can fancy." + </p> + <p> + An inspection showed Smith was correct. What the boys had + taken for bloodstains in their first excitement were splashes + of wine. The table was still laden with dishes and eatables. + Broken glass around the table showed that the diners had + followed the old custom of breaking their goblets after + toasts. + </p> + <p> + "They were having a last square meal before taking to their + boats," speculated Leonard. + </p> + <p> + "But the boats are still here, sir," objected Greer. + </p> + <p> + "There seems to be no explanation," gloomed Caradoc. + </p> + <p> + "If we gathered this up and took it to the men, they would + thank us heartily," suggested Greer. + </p> + <p> + "That's a fact," agreed Madden, setting to work at once. + "Here, pile these plates on trays and we'll load 'em in the + small boat." + </p> + <p> + The three adventurers set to work busily, carrying the + provisions, which were still fresh and wholesome, to the port + dinghy which lay toward the dock. + </p> + <p> + As they worked they speculated further on what could have + brought about such an extraordinary situation. Their guesses + ranged from water spouts to savages. Presently Caradoc cut in + with: + </p> + <p> + "It's not so much how the <i>Minnie B</i> got here, as it is + how we are going to handle her." + </p> + <p> + "We'll man her and sail home," said Greer. + </p> + <p> + "We'll have to ballast her first," declared Leonard. "She + won't run this way." + </p> + <p> + "We have enough coal on the dock for that, sir." + </p> + <p> + "In a flat sea like this," suggested Caradoc, "we can warp + the schooner to the front of the barge and load the coal + directly in her hold." + </p> + <p> + By this time the dinghy was loaded and the three swung her + out of the davits into the sea below. Then they threw down a + rope ladder and climbed below. Greer went back to the stern, + picked up an oar and began to scull. + </p> + <p> + The sun sank as the little boat worked her way through the + lanes of seaweed, and the great dock threw long purple + shadows across the highly colored ocean. Caradoc looked at + the great structure intently. The setting sun rimmed its + great shape in brilliant red, but the bulk of it lay in deep + wine-like shadow. The boys gazed at it musingly. + </p> + <p> + "A fine structure to desert, isn't it?" said Caradoc in a low + tone. + </p> + <p> + "Just what I was thinking," sympathized Madden. "I suppose we + could send a tug back and find her?" + </p> + <p> + "Doubtful, in this fantastic place." + </p> + <p> + "The current is fairly well charted; still, it may take us + some time to reach port——" Both men fell into a + musing silence as Greer nibbled the boat forward with the + single oar. + </p> + <p> + "The thing's worth over a million pounds," appraised Caradoc. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Madden straightened with an idea. "How about + hitching that schooner to the dock and towing her?" + </p> + <p> + "What an American idea!" Caradoc lifted his voice slightly. + </p> + <p> + "Would we—make any—headway, sir, with the + schooner's—light machinery?" asked Greer, his sentence + punctuated by shoves at his oar. + </p> + <p> + "We would have to try and see. Besides, we would have to do + little else than help the current we are in. The Atlantic + eddy sweeps through the Caribbean close to the South American + coast. If we could control our direction slightly, we would + perhaps make La Guayra or the Port of Spain." + </p> + <p> + "With a seven or eight mile current that would take us + months—years.... What is the distance to La Guayra?" + this from Smith. + </p> + <p> + "Something around fifteen hundred miles. But that isn't the + point. It isn't how long it takes us, it's can we <i>do</i> + it. Had you thought of the salvage end of this thing?" + </p> + <p> + "Salvage, no. We'll get salvage on the schooner—a + bagatelle." + </p> + <p> + Madden shook his head, "No, I believe we ought to get salvage + on the whole dock." + </p> + <p> + "Salvage on the dock!" Caradoc opened his eyes. "We'd be + jolly well near millionaires. No, that's impossible. A crew + can't salve their own vessel." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, but we are not the crew of the dock," insisted Madden, + "at least not the navigating crew. The men of the + <i>Vulcan</i> were that. We are nothing but + painters——" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, that's a quibble—nothing but a quibble!" objected + Caradoc. + </p> + <p> + "Well, anyway, I think there is a rule that if a crew rescue + their own craft under circumstances of extreme peril, they + come in as salvors. I'll look it up in Malone's books when we + get back." + </p> + <p> + At that moment their ears caught a cheering from the dock, + which came to them as a small sound almost lost over the + immense flat sea. Greer paused in his work to wave a hand, + which was extremely sociable for him. The men bunched on the + forward pontoon, waved and shouted at the little boat. As the + noise grew louder, questions shaped themselves in the uproar. + </p> + <p> + "W'ot did ye make of 'er?" "Was there anywan aboard?" "W'ot + ship is she?" "Can we git a berth hoff this bloomin' dock?" + </p> + <p> + Madden held up his hands for silence and shouted a reply. + </p> + <p> + "We have a meal for you—a dinner!" + </p> + <p> + A great shouting and cheering broke out at this. It is + strange how much more pressing is the small need of a dinner + than the large need of a rescue. The mystery of the schooner + was overlooked in a sight of the plates and victuals. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, look, there it is—bread and meat!" "And, say, + ain't that fish?" "And that goose or something!" + </p> + <p> + Eager hands reached down as Madden and Caradoc handed up the + platters. "To the mess room, to the mess room!" directed + Leonard. + </p> + <p> + "Sure, sure, we wouldn't touch a mouthful for hanything!" + cried Mulcher earnestly. + </p> + <p> + "Misther Madden, you're a wonder!" extolled Hogan. + </p> + <p> + Then the three men climbed up and were received clamorously. + Even the silent Greer found himself beset with a temporary + bunch of admirers. All began talking of the <i>Minnie B</i>, + asking questions. Caradoc unbent his dignity and explained + what he had observed. + </p> + <p> + Leonard went straight to the officer's cabin, eager to + satisfy his curiosity about salvage. A whole fortune + shimmered before his vision if law allowed the crew to salve + the dock. He turned into the hot cabin, struck a light and + ran his eyes over the mate's shelf of books. He soon found + what he was hunting, "Abbot's Law of Merchant's Ships and + Seamen." + </p> + <p> + Leonard sat down at his desk, placed the light close by and + began a sweating search for the legal rule applicable to + salvage. It was Madden's intention to attempt to get the dock + to port no matter what the law said, but he knew his best + chance of getting the crew to cooperate was through possible + prize money. + </p> + <p> + Like all legal works, Abbott gave shading decisions on both + sides of the topic. As the lad read on he discovered many + questions were involved. + </p> + <p> + What constitutes the crew of a vessel? Can a towed vessel + have a navigating crew? Could a lawful crew be composed of + ordinary laborers, or would it be necessary for them to be + able seamen? + </p> + <p> + All these points and many others were involved, but Leonard + plodded patiently through the legal labyrinth, and finally + decided that he and his crew were eligible for prize money. + He then fell to estimating the probable amount the crew would + receive. The dock was easily worth a million pounds, or say + five million dollars. It would lack one or two hundred + thousand totting up a full five million, but Leonard's + imagination was in no mood to balk at a paltry two hundred + thousand more or less. Say five million! The share of the + salvors would amount to—say fifty per cent, two and a + half million. Distribute this among twelve men. There he was, + two hundred and eight thousand, three hundred and + thirty-three dollars and thirty-three cents. Or say two + hundred thousand dollars. + </p> + <p> + Madden drew a long breath and opened his eyes at his own + figures. Was it possible? He doubted it! He believed it! + </p> + <p> + He stared out of his open port onto the fantastic sea, amazed + that a great fortune should drift in to him from such a + place. What would he do? How should he live? He could go + anywhere, do anything. There came to him suddenly the + precepts of his old teacher in economics at college: "A + fortune is a great moral responsibility. A rich man is a + trustee of society." Did he have the brains to wield this + money and make it mean something to the world? The thought of + wealth always comes with a question. A man's answer to that + question determines whether he is a man or a thing. + </p> + <p> + Before Leonard could reach any sort of decision, Gaskin rang + his gong for dinner. The boy arose and walked buoyantly + towards the mess hall. He was hungry, too. Ever since he had + cut rations, he had been eating the same fare as the men. + </p> + <p> + The tropical night was falling as the men joyously entered to + a full-fledged, satisfying, if secondhand, meal. They came in + laughing, joking boisterously, wondering about the schooner. + </p> + <p> + When the men had strung around the long table, Mike Hogan + arose and the men became quiet as if at some preconcerted + signal. The Irishman gave a slightly embarrassed bob toward + Leonard and began in an extra rich brogue: + </p> + <p> + "Misther Madden, sir——" + </p> + <p> + Leonard glanced up in surprise. "What's worrying you, Mike?" + </p> + <p> + "Th' bhoys, sir, have been thinkin' as how we would loike to + ixpress our appreciation av what ye've done for us, sir, in a + little spache, something loike a little spache av wilcome, + sir, an' asked me to do it, if ye don't moind." + </p> + <p> + "Go ahead," nodded Madden, "but don't expect much of a + response from me. I'm no speaker and——" + </p> + <p> + "Go on, Mike!" "Go to it, Mike!" "Take a sip of water, Mike, + like a reg'lar one, and cut loose." + </p> + <p> + With this encouragement, the Celt moistened his dry lips, + thrust out his chest, and after a momentary fumble, stuck + three fingers in his shirt front. + </p> + <p> + "It's me pr-roud privilege, ladies and gintilmin, to wilcome + to our midst, a gintilmin bearin' in wan hand a distinguished + ancistry, a spirit av enterprise and a hear-rt av courage, + while wid his other, he snatches a dinner for his starvin' + min out o' th' middle av th' Sargasso Sea. Oi rayfer to our + distinguished commander, Captain Leonard Madden of America." + </p> + <p> + A burst of applause followed this period. Hogan beamed, bowed + deeply to left and right; his voice went up an octave and he + proceeded: + </p> + <p> + "Ladies an' gintilmin, me mind runs back through th' pages av + histh'ry, lookin' for a name fit to be compared with him but + I don't find none. There is Columbus and Peary and Stanley + and Amundsen, all av thim gr-reat min, but whin you come to + compare thim with our hero, phwat have they done? + </p> + <p> + "Look at Columbus. What is his claim to glory? Did Columbus + iver swim out into th' stinkin' Sargasso and come back with a + good dinner for his star-r-vin' min? Histh'ry does not say + so. He discovered America, Columbus did. What is America? A + whole continint. Anybody that was sailin' by would have + noticed it. But, gintilmin, a dinner is a very small thing + and they are har-rd to discover, as ivry wan of you lads very + will know. Columbus wint out in thray ships, our gallant + captain wint out in his undhershirt and a straw hat. I say + thray cheers for our gallant captain!" + </p> + <p> + The cheers were given with a hearty good will and the orator + sat down smiling broadly and moistening his dry lips with his + tongue. Then the diners desired a response. + </p> + <p> + It struck Madden to propose salving the dock while the crowd + was mellow. He arose when the noise subsided somewhat. + </p> + <p> + "I thank you fellows very much for the kind opinion you + entertain of me, and now I want to lay a proposition before + you." + </p> + <p> + "Hear! Hear the captain!" called two or three cockneys in + hoarse good humor. + </p> + <p> + "I want to say that to-morrow we are going to man the + schooner and sail for home." + </p> + <p> + The men were in a bubbling mood, and cheered this with cries + of "Good! Good!" + </p> + <p> + "What I wish you to decide is, whether we shall tow the dock, + or sail with the schooner alone?" + </p> + <p> + "With the schooner alone, sor!" "Schooner alone!" "We 'ave + enough of th' dock!" came an instant chorus. + </p> + <p> + Leonard held up a hand, "One moment. I want you to have a + voice in this decision. An attempt to tow the dock will be + highly adventurous, no doubt dangerous. You were not hired + for any such service, and I wish to leave it to a vote." + </p> + <p> + "Good, very good, sor! Let's 'ave th' question!" + </p> + <p> + "Just one moment. You must consider the salvage involved in + this matter. If we save the schooner, we will receive as + prize money about one-half her value. If we save the dock, we + will receive about half <i>her</i> value. The dock is worth a + million pounds, about five million dollars. So each man would + receive for his portion, in event we salved the dock about... + two hundred thousand dollars... a fortune." + </p> + <p> + A profound silence fell over the diners. They hunched + forward, staring fixedly out of sunburned, gross, dissipated + faces. Longshores-men, the scum of London, who had worked all + their lives for half a pound a week, gaped at the idea of two + hundred thousand dollars. + </p> + <p> + Somebody repeated the sum hoarsely. Suddenly they raised an + uproar. + </p> + <p> + "We'll take 'er, sir!" "We'll tow th' dock, sor!" "We weel + tow zee dock to zee moon for zat!" "Sphend our loives and die + rich min!" + </p> + <p> + The strong imagination of wealth ran around the table like + wine. Deschaillon responded first. + </p> + <p> + "Voila! One meellion francs! I weel buy a pond near Paris and + raise bull frogs. I weel buy a decoration and be a knight. I + weel——" + </p> + <p> + "I'll start an undertaker shop!" glowed Galton, "and my old + mother shall have a bit of ground to raise flowers." + </p> + <p> + "Glory be!" chanted Hogan, "Oi'll wear a tall hat, a + long-tailed coat and carry a silver-headed cane, and thin + Susie Maloney and Bridget O'Malley and Peggy O'Brien will be + sorry they iver tossed up their saucy noses at th' love o' an + honest lad!" + </p> + <p> + "I'll own a kennel of bulldogs," growled Mulcher, "and 'ave a + fight hev'ry day." + </p> + <p> + All this was given in chorus and much of it lost. Those who + didn't speak aloud their heart's desires thought them. + Fortune had shown her golden form to these crude men for a + fleeting instant, and dreams, long hidden in their hearts, + suddenly leaped to life. They were poor dreams, selfish + dreams, foolish dreams, but for the moment they poised, like + liberated fairies, for a flight to the land where dreams come + true. + </p> + <p> + "We sail in the morning," explained Madden, "for a South + American port. Is there anyone in this crew who knows + anything about running a marine engine?" + </p> + <p> + The men fell silent and looked inquiringly at each other. + Fortune was beginning to show herself elusive, even in the + Sargasso, save to those who <i>know</i>. + </p> + <p> + "I b'lieve not," said Mulcher. + </p> + <p> + "We could raise steam, sir," suggested Galton, "and then pull + all the levers and twist th' w'eels, sir and see w'ot'd + 'appen." + </p> + <p> + "W'ot 'ud 'appen!" cried two or three voices. "W'y, we'd hall + be blowed galley west, 'at's w'ot'd 'appen!" + </p> + <p> + "Sure Misther Madden can figger it out!" suggested Hogan + cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + "We might leave th' dock and run 'er 'ome by sail," suggested + Galton. + </p> + <p> + "No! No! Take th' dock!" "We'll run'er by steam!" "Steam's + th' word!" A storm of determination cried down any such + suggestion. + </p> + <p> + "D'ye mean a dozin str-rong min can't run one little engine!" + shouted Hogan; "r-rich min, too! It's a shame, lads, we + haven't a dhrop o' something to dhrink the health av th' + ixpedition." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, Mister Madden, a drop o' something!" urged another + voice. + </p> + <p> + At that moment, Gaskin entered the door with suppressed + excitement showing through his usually imperturbable manner. + </p> + <p> + "Hi—Hi beg pardon, Mister Madden. Hi, don't want to + interrupt, but—" he rubbed his hands with a little + bob—"but would you 'ave th' goodness to step outside + for a look, sir. Hi think th' <i>Minnie B</i> is on fire." + </p> + <p> + And the fairy dreams, evoked by a wave of Fortune's wand, + crept silently back into the hearts of their owners. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH10"><!-- CH10 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <center> + THE STRANGE END OF THE <i>MINNIE B</i> + </center> + <p> + At Gaskin's announcement, bedlam broke loose among the + diners. They leaped to their feet and rushed headlong from + the messroom. + </p> + <p> + "Get th' buckets!" "Man th' boat!" "We'll niver get there in + toime!" "<i>Allons! Allons</i>!" "W'y didn't we put a guard + on 'er!" "Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!" "Yes, 'urry! 'urry!" + </p> + <p> + Out into the darkness to the forward pontoon rushed the + howling mob. Some gave inarticulate cries, others bewailed + their lost riches to the vast empty night. + </p> + <p> + A strange sight met their eyes. The spars and sails of the + <i>Minnie B</i> stood out against the black heavens in a + flickering brilliance that danced up through the rigging, but + presently all saw it was a mere light shining from beneath. + </p> + <p> + "Th' fire's in th' hold!" cried Galton hoarsely. "Did you men + drop a match?" + </p> + <p> + "'Ow could they drop a match, wearin' nothin' but + undershirts?" flared back another navvy. + </p> + <p> + "We could do no good in a small boat!" cried Galton. + </p> + <p> + 'She's afire from stem to stern!" + </p> + <p> + "But smoke—w'ere's th' smoke?" + </p> + <p> + Then, quite surprisingly, the light wavered out, leaving the + schooner in stony blackness. A vague blur of complementary + color swam in Madden's eyes. A gasp went up from the + watchers. + </p> + <p> + "Bhoys," faltered Hogan in an awed tone, "th' banshees ar-re + dancin' to-night!" + </p> + <p> + "Banshees!" sneered Mulcher. "Th' deck's caved in—it'll + break out again!" + </p> + <p> + "Th' engines must be ruint complately." + </p> + <p> + "Wot do ye make of it, Mister Madden?" asked Galton, + bewildered. "Look—there it is again!" + </p> + <p> + Sure enough the mysterious light flamed up once more as + suddenly as it disappeared. It flickered and wavered over + hull and spars. + </p> + <p> + "It might possibly be a phosphorescent display," hazarded + Leonard, completely mystified. + </p> + <p> + "Tropical seas grow very luminous when disturbed... a school + of dolphins or sharks on the other side the schooner + might——" + </p> + <p> + "This must be a reg'lar fire!" cried Mulcher. "Nothin' but a + furnace in th' hold——" + </p> + <p> + "W'y don't hit smoke?" + </p> + <p> + "'Ow do I know?" + </p> + <p> + "Hit ain't a fire!" + </p> + <p> + "W'ot is hit?" + </p> + <p> + "Phosphescence, didn't you 'ear Mister Madden say!" + </p> + <p> + "Will hit sink 'er?" + </p> + <p> + Deschaillon gave a sharp laugh. "What <i>sauvages</i>!" + </p> + <p> + By this time it became clear to everyone that it was not a + fire. As the weird illumination continued its fantastic + gambols, little points of light began moving about the deck. + </p> + <p> + Just then Caradoc's grave voice hazarded: "That must be an + extraordinary display of St. Elmo's fire. I should say a + storm was brewing." + </p> + <p> + "Would St. Elmo's fire 'urt th' vessel, sir?" asked a + cockney. + </p> + <p> + "Not at all," replied the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + As Leonard stared a queer thought came into his head. He + looked around at his companions. In the faint radiance from + the mysterious schooner, he could make out their faces, pale + blurs all fixed on the strange spectacle. He picked out the + heavy form of Farnol Greer and moved over to his friend. + Under the cover of excited talking and exclamations, he asked + in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + "There was somebody on that schooner this morning, Farnol?" + </p> + <p> + "Just what I was thinking, sir." + </p> + <p> + "He could have hidden from us. You thought he must be + crazy—a crazy man would probably have secreted + himself." + </p> + <p> + "I had it in mind, sir, the very thing." + </p> + <p> + "Now could he possibly make a light like this?" + </p> + <p> + Greer remained silent. The queer fellow never said anything + when he had nothing to say. + </p> + <p> + "I'd like to go over and see," went on Leonard. "I want one + man to row with me. We want to go light and fast." + </p> + <p> + "That's me, sir." + </p> + <p> + Greer moved instantly to the rope ladder where the dinghy was + tied. Madden followed him. Caradoc was still explaining the + theory of St. Elmo's fire to the listening men. Madden broke + in on it. + </p> + <p> + "Fellows," he called, "Greer and I are going to row over + there. We'll let you know what we find." + </p> + <p> + Amid warning protests the two climbed down the ladder for the + small boat. + </p> + <p> + "I wouldn't do it, sir." "Leckricity's liable to strike you, + sir." "There's a storm comin', sir, and you won't get back, + like th' mate did." "You can see just as well from 'ere." + </p> + <p> + But the two clambered into the half-seen dinghy and pushed + off. The moment they dipped oars into water, the mystery was + partially explained. Every stroke they made created bright + phosphorescent rings in the lifeless sea. Their blades drove + through the water in a flame. The navvies cried out at this + phenomenon. A sufficient disturbance of the sea beyond the + schooner would almost explain the strange light dancing + through the rigging. But what made that disturbance? + </p> + <p> + Reflections of the shining spars made a wavering path over + the weed-strewn water, and up this path the dinghy moved amid + its own flashing fires. It formed a queer spectacle, a + glowworm creeping up on a bonfire. + </p> + <p> + The fact that the two boys had just traversed the Sargasso + lanes a few hours before aided them greatly now in finding + their way to the schooner. Presently they were skirting the + drift of seaweed where Madden had come so near losing his + life. As they rowed, the flashing of the water about their + oars only half convinced Madden that a similar cause underlay + the bizarre illumination on the schooner. The American's mind + clung to the idea that there was somebody on board the + <i>Minnie B</i>, a madman, possibly, who in some unknown way + produced this amazing light. + </p> + <p> + He groped for some theory to account for a maniac on a + deserted schooner in these desolate seas. No doubt if a + solitary man were left in these terrible painted seas he + would go insane. Madden regretted that he had not searched + the <i>Minnie B</i> more thoroughly when he had the + opportunity. + </p> + <p> + Similar thoughts evidenly played in Greer's mind, for + presently he puffed out, between oar strokes: "Did you bring + along a pistol, sir?" + </p> + <p> + "No, but there are two of us." + </p> + <p> + "They say they are tremendously stout, sir." + </p> + <p> + "We can use our oars; they'd made good clubs." + </p> + <p> + "I'm with you, sir." + </p> + <p> + By this time they had entered a long S-shaped rift that + Madden recalled led straight to the schooner. By glancing + over his shoulder, the American saw its two curving strokes + drawn in pale light against the dark field of seaweed. As + they drew nearer, wild notions of what they might encounter + played through Madden's mind. What would be the outcome of + this fantastic adventure? + </p> + <p> + The dinghy was moving down the middle of the long "S" when a + dull noise from the schooner caused both oarsmen to look + around. Such an extraordinary sight met their eyes that they + ceased rowing completely, and stood up in the boat to stare + at their goal. + </p> + <p> + The <i>Minnie B</i> no longer lay at rest. Some strange and + mighty convulsion was taking place in the schooner. The + lights still played about the vessel, but her whole prow rose + slowly out of the sea, while she settled heavily by the + stern. The most unexpected thing in the world was happening. + </p> + <p> + The <i>Minnie B</i> was foundering! + </p> + <p> + In the ghastly light, her masts and rigging swung in a slow + drunken reel. Presently she settled back to normal with a + heavy crushing sound as the water in her hold rushed forward. + She seemed some mighty leviathan weltering in agony. She lay + on even keel for four or five minutes while a hissing and + spewing of air compressed in her hull told she was slowly + settling. + </p> + <p> + In the ghostly light the foundering vessel gave a strange + impression of clinging desperately to her life. She seemed + striving to remain upright. Her hissing and sucking might + have been a living gasp for breath. Very slowly she rolled + over, and came the noise of many waters cascading down over + her upflung keel. Her masts crashed, yards broke, rigging + popped in the wildest confusion as they dashed into the sea. + Great phosphorescent waves dashed through the prone rigging + and over the hull in liquid fire. A sea of quicksilver leaped + up to lick her down. With great bubbling and sucking and + groaning, the <i>Minnie B</i> fought for her last gasp of + life. For several minutes she lay thus, on her side, every + detail clearly delineated as liquid fire roared down her open + hatches. At last, as she filled with water, the schooner + straightened with a mighty effort, a last stand between sea + and sky, then sank slowly out of sight in a scene of wild and + ill-starred beauty. Her mainpeak disappeared in a shining + maelstrom. The convulsed water flashed and hissed, and the + circling waves here torches into the dead seaweed and moved + the black fields to a whispered sighing. + </p> + <p> + Toward the south the waves moved with great velocity and + brilliance. Indeed something seemed to be rushing away from + the wreck, clad in long winding sheets of flame. It might + have been a continuation of the waves in that direction, or + it might have been some dolphin or shark flying from the + roaring vessel. + </p> + <p> + In ghastly mystification, the two watchers stared at the last + weird gleams that marked the foundered schooner. The waves + reached the dinghy, raised it and dropped it with a slow + gurgling, then died away in firefly glimmers. The sea + presented once more a dim gray surface. To Madden's mind + there came, with a sharp sense of pathos, the picture of the + little sunny-haired girl he had seen in the chart room. + </p> + <p> + "Sunk," murmured Greer in a strange tone, "sunk—when + she was as dry as a chip." + </p> + <p> + "Heeled over," shivered Madden, "heeled over in a dead + calm—God have mercy on us!" + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH11"><!-- CH11 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <center> + CARADOC SHOWS HIS METTLE + </center> + <p> + Heat, that grew more terrific as the dock drifted southward; + hunger, that gnawed like rats at the empty stomachs of the + crew; withering heat, aching hunger, growing + despair—that was life on the floating dock. + </p> + <p> + Of all the crew only Gaskin remained in good condition. It + would have required more than a hero to cook food and go + hungry, but the crew made no such allowances. They berated + the dignified Gaskin, they eyed each other's scant portions + jealously. Their quarrels over food at last forced Madden to + weigh each man's allowance to the fraction of an ounce. + </p> + <p> + The nerves of the crew frayed out in the heat. By night they + slept amid tantalizing dreams of food; by day they sprawled + in dreary silences under awnings which held heat like sweat + boxes. The high metal walls of the dock caught the sun's rays + and threw out a furnace heat. The men endured it in net + undershirts clinging to dripping bodies; their eyes ached + against the glare, their stomachs rebelled, their brains + sickened with monotony and despair. + </p> + <p> + The men developed little personal traits that exasperated + their mates unreasonably. Mulcher had a way of breathing + aloud through his coarse lips that chafed Hogan's temper. For + hours at a time the Irishman would stare at those flabby + spewing lips, filled with a desire to maul them. Yet before + this isolation, he had never observed that Mulcher breathed + aloud. + </p> + <p> + The only occupation the men had now was to stare at, listen + to and criticise each other. All painting had ceased, for + work consumes energy, and energy consumes food. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc Smith found peculiar and private grievance in the + fact that Greer often whistled to himself in a windy + undertone. The tune Farnol chose for these unfortunate + performances was an American ragtime, that repeated the same + strain over and over. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc strove not to listen to this dry whistling. Sometimes + he left his awning and climbed up the walls through the + sapping sun's rays to escape it, but his ears caught the + faintly aspirated air at remarkable distances. + </p> + <p> + One day he said to Madden: "I don't see how you stand that + Greer fellow's eternal whistling," and Leonard answered: + </p> + <p> + "Does Greer whistle?" + </p> + <p> + "Whistle! He whistles everlastingly, abominably—one of + those confounded American rags. He's at it now—what is + that thing?" + </p> + <p> + Madden had to listen very carefully before he caught the + faint blowing between Farnol's lips. Presently he identified + it. + </p> + <p> + "That's 'Winona, Sweet Indian Maid.'" + </p> + <p> + This reply seemed to arouse an irrational anger in the + Briton. + </p> + <p> + "'Winona, Sweet Indian Maid'—<i>sweet</i> Indian Maid!" + he snorted. "Did an Indian write such a nightmare? Is it a + war song? Do they murder each other by it, or with it?" + </p> + <p> + Madden grinned with fagged appreciation, thinking the remark + meant for humor, but Caradoc grimly chewed his blond + mustache. + </p> + <p> + It was noon, three days later when Caradoc's endurance broke + down. + </p> + <p> + "Greer!" he snapped with all his pent-up irritation in his + voice, "will you never stop mouthing that beastly tune?" + </p> + <p> + The stolid fellow looked around in the blankest surprise. + "Tune?" + </p> + <p> + "No, groaning, wheezing! You spew it out all day long! What + do you think you are? A tree frog, a locust, a katydid? + Doesn't your mouth get tired? Does that hideous tinkle go + through your hollow head all day long?" + </p> + <p> + The Englishman's long face was a dusky red. He had not + intended to be insulting when he first spoke, but all the + sarcastic and abusive epithets that he had <i>thought</i> + during the long super-heated days of nerve-racked listening, + now rushed out like steam from a boiler. + </p> + <p> + Farnol stared straight at the nervous fellow. "Are you + insane?" he asked in wondering contempt, + </p> + <p> + "A wonder I'm not—with that diabolical wheezy spewing + boring in my brain—you never stop a minute—over + and over——" + </p> + <p> + "Have you run out of stolen whiskey again?" interrupted Greer + with cool malice. + </p> + <p> + The whole crew came to hushed attention. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc seemed to collect himself with a great effort. The + blood ebbed from his face, leaving it the color of clay. + </p> + <p> + "Stolen?" he asked in a contained voice. "Yes, isn't there + another medicine case for you to steal?" + </p> + <p> + "Greer!" cried Madden reproachfully. The American knew it was + hunger, heat and nerves that were nagging these two miserable + men to quarrel. + </p> + <p> + "I believe he said I was no gentleman," pronounced Greer + sarcastically, "because I didn't know a little French. I say + <i>he's</i> a thief." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc was drawing long breaths through dilated nostrils. + "Mr. Greer," he said with cold evenness, "it is impossible to + obtain swords or pistols on this dock. We will have to fight + with our hands. Choose a second!" + </p> + <p> + Greer nodded shortly. Both men got to their feet and both + glanced at Madden. + </p> + <p> + The American shook his head. "I can't serve for either of + you. I'm in command here. I'm impartial." + </p> + <p> + "Will you oblige me, Mr. Deschaillon?" asked Smith with a set + face. + </p> + <p> + The Gaul arose, saluted, military fashion, with a clicking of + heels. "Eet ees an honor, M'sieu!" + </p> + <p> + Greer stared around dourly. "Hogan?" + </p> + <p> + The Irishman leaped to his feet joyfully. "Oi'm wid ye, + Misther Greer, and we'll bate th' long face off th' spalpeen, + though I hate to hit Frinchy Dashalong, who is a good frind + o' mine." + </p> + <p> + All the men were up now circling about the principals. + </p> + <p> + "You don't have to do no fightin', 'Ogan," explained Galton, + "you simply stand by and 'old up for your man, an' 'elp fan + 'im 'twixt rounds." + </p> + <p> + "Rounds!" exclaimed the disgusted Irishman. "I thought they + were choosin' sides for a free-for-all." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc began methodically stripping to the waist and Greer + followed suit. The Englishman presented his watch to Madden + with a slight bow. + </p> + <p> + "If you'll be so kind as to keep time," he suggested, "that's + a neutral position. We fight four minutes and rest one." + </p> + <p> + Madden considered the warlike preparations askance. He + wondered if he ought not to stop it. The Englishman might + suffer another sunstroke. However, he took his station at the + ringside, and glanced at the watch, which had a coat of arms + carved on the inside of its hunting case. + </p> + <p> + There was a striking contrast between the two fighters. The + Englishman was a beautiful taper from his great shoulders to + his small aristocratic feet. His muscles were long, graceful + and knitted across his arms, chest, and stomach like lace + leather. He was built for swift enduring action and could + only have sprung from a race of men who had spent their lives + in play and luxury. + </p> + <p> + Farnol Greer, on the other hand, was as heavily moulded as a + bulldog. His arms were short and blocky; his shoulders welted + with brawn; his chest was two hairy hills, like a gorilla's, + while across his stomach muscles lay ridged like ropes. His + waist was thick with pones of sinew bulging over the hips, as + one sees in the statue of Discobolus. It was plain that Greer + had labored tremendously all his life and that his strength + was simply wonderful. + </p> + <p> + It struck Madden as a strange coincidence that these two + extreme types of luxury and labor should meet in this furnace + on the Sargasso and fight for the trivial reason that one + offended the other's sense of music. + </p> + <p> + "All ready!" called Leonard. + </p> + <p> + The two men squared away at each other, Caradoc smiling + sarcastically, Greer grim as a gallows. Utter silence fell + over the crowd. The fighters crouched, bare fists up, staring + at each other over the tips of their guards. + </p> + <p> + For a moment Smith shifted around his man on his toes. He + seemed as light as a cat. Greer stood solid and merely turned + on his flat feet. Suddenly Caradoc's long right whipped out + with a crack against the shorter man's forehead. Greer made + no sign of having received a blow, although a dull red + splotch slowly formed on his frontal. Caradoc led another + right, which Greer blocked, then the Englishman bored through + with a stinging left to the hairy chest. + </p> + <p> + "Go afther him! Kill him!" cried Hogan to his principal. + "Nixt toime he thries to hit ye, knock off his head for his + impidence!" + </p> + <p> + "Aye, 'it 'im! Don't take nothin' off of 'im!" advised two of + the cockneys. Sympathy lay with the smaller man. + </p> + <p> + Smith continued his tiptoe dance and led a straight right. + Instantly his massive enemy ducked, leaped in under his + guard, and there came the dull thud of in-fighting; Greer's + black head jammed up against Caradoc's chin, his great + muscular back bent half double, his tremendous arms working + like pistons. + </p> + <p> + The crew howled at this sharp unexpected attack. Caradoc + rescued himself by shoving open palms against the big bulging + shoulders, and pushing himself away from this battering ram. + Smith bumped into some onlookers, and got behind his guard + some ten feet away from Greer. The Englishman's fine-grained + stomach was covered with pink welts from his punishment. He + had ceased smiling and was watching his man carefully. As a + matter of fact, he had expected to dispose of Greer + easily—as a gentleman disposes of a clod-hopper. But + the heavy-set boy's method of fighting was new and effective. + Likewise there seemed to be a certain grim system about it. + </p> + <p> + "First round is over!" called Madden. + </p> + <p> + "Phwat a shame!" cried Hogan. + </p> + <p> + With English love of fair fight, the cockneys divided + themselves impartially between the battlers and converted + themselves into impromptu rubbers and handlers. There was + perhaps not a man in the crowd who liked Caradoc; + nevertheless they hustled him to his awning, put him down on + a box, procured towels, water, sponges from somewhere, and + set up a vigorous fanning and rubbing, all out of a desire to + see fair play. At the end of a minute they carried their + champions back and set them facing each other like human game + cocks. + </p> + <p> + Farnol dashed in at once, whipping right and left hooks to + Smith's sides. Caradoc tore himself away and played for + distance, stabbing at Farnol's head at long range. The short + youth accepted with indifference punishment that cut cheeks + and lips. He made rush after rush, driving Caradoc into the + crowd, who immediately shifted back and made room. Time and + again he landed terrific short arm jolts over heart and + kidneys. + </p> + <p> + The sweating bodies of the fighters glistened in the roasting + sunshine. Both were bruised, Smith's body, Greer's head and + shoulders. Caradoc's mouth felt slimy and he spit at nothing. + </p> + <p> + The fighting went in spurts, Greer rushing Land Smith dancing + away and stabbing. The two gangs of rubbers bawled + encouragement to their men. + </p> + <p> + "Land on 'is nose there, Smith!" shouted Mulcher. "Don't let + 'im to ye! Play away, play away, me boy! Now huppercut 'im! + Huppercut 'im, I say!" + </p> + <p> + On the other side, Galton was shrieking hoarsely, "Bore in, + Greer! Bore in, me lad!" and Hogan, "G'wan and mash the + spalpeen's ribs! Br-reak his long nick! Cr-rush him! Why + don't ye hit him on th' head and lay him out?" + </p> + <p> + "Time's up!" announced Madden. + </p> + <p> + During the following rounds, Caradoc stuck to the long range + English method of fighting, but over and over Farnol broke + through his guard and his short-arm jabs spread a sick numb + feeling over Caradoc's sides and chest. + </p> + <p> + The Briton deliberately worked for Greer's eyes. His first + round with the silent man convinced him that he would never + be able to stop that massive steel body with a knock-out. On + the other hand Greer covered up tightly and lunged like a + tiger after Smith's stomach and endurance. + </p> + <p> + Two or three weeks before, Caradoc could never have withstood + that terrific bombardment, but his hard life on the dock, his + abstinence from alcohol, and the fact that tobacco had long + ago run out, all this had armored his body with hard flesh. + </p> + <p> + The opening of the twelfth round found both fighters blown, + bleeding and filled with a desperate determination to end the + contest. They formed a ghastly sight when they were pitted in + what proved to be the final clash. Greer's face was chopped + and bleeding, while Caradoc's ribs were a mass of bruises, as + mottled as a leopard's skin. + </p> + <p> + To Caradoc, the whole dock seemed unsteady. The sun bored + into the back of his head. The men had ceased yelling, and + the circle silently swayed back and forth to give the + battlers room. The whole scene was hazy and fantastic. + </p> + <p> + The Englishman put up his hands automatically when he faced + his enemy, and the next moment black-haired blocky bull of a + fellow charged furiously. Smith tried to stop him with a + heavy right hand smash, but his fist glanced off the man's + sweaty shoulder. The next moment, Greer's right landed in a + fierce solid jolt on Smith's hip bone. A sickening pain went + through the Englishman. He sagged away and went down on a + knee, hunched forward, trying to protect his face with his + gloves. Greer Started another rush, when Madden jumped in, + put a hand on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + "You can't hit him while he's down!" he shouted in the bull's + ear, and then the American began counting: "One, two, + three..." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc rested with his broad chest panting convulsively up + and down till the count of eight. Then he sprang backwards + away from his enemy. Curiously enough, Greer did not press + his advantage home. The heavy lad came forward but stood away + from Caradoc, attempting nothing but left-hand jabs. + </p> + <p> + In an instant Smith saw what was the matter. That blow on the + hip had ruined Greer's right hand, strained it, perhaps + broken it. Greer's rushes had stopped, and Smith, who was a + boxer, not a fighter, could stand off and peck at his man's + eyes or jaw without danger to himself. + </p> + <p> + He hitched wearily up to his enemy, blocked Greer's left hand + and let his right have a full swing at his exposed body. + Farnol went through the motion of striking, but his blow was + a mere tap and caused the heavy fellow to cringe with pain. + </p><a name="image-3"><!-- Image 3 --></a> + <center> + <img src="images/illus03.png" height="730" width="450" alt= + "Caradoc Stands the Acid Test."> + </center> + <p> + Caradoc swung a light blow to the neck. Greer countered + fiercely with his left, but it was parried easily. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the crowd understood what had happened. + </p> + <p> + "Put 'im out!" "Finish 'im!" "Put 'im to sleep!" bawled a + chorus. "He hit you below th' belt w'en 'e broke 'is 'and!" + </p> + <p> + Farnol continued his chopping one-armed fight. "Put me out! + Put me out!" he bubbled furiously. "I said ye was a thief! + You <i>are</i> a thief! You're a thief!" and he accented his + charges with stabs. + </p> + <p> + Smith side-stepped the harmless attack, letting it slide + first to one side then the other, men were so tired they + could hardly keep their feet. The Englishman looked down on + the stubborn fellow, with his chopped, bleeding face and + blackened, defiant eyes. A hard swing at unprotected jaw + would stretch him out in broiling heat, but he did not make + the blow. Instead he pushed the frothing fellow away from + him. + </p> + <p> + "Go to your corner and cool off," he panted. "Yes, I'm a + thief. Go on away; I don't want knock you out." + </p> + <p> + He turned his back deliberately and walked to his own awning. + The crowd stared, absolutely dumfounded by this unexpected + turn of affairs. Greer himself stared, then moved forward + automatically to continue his onslaught, when Hogan grabbed + him. + </p> + <p> + "Come on back," cried the Irishman. "Th' scoundrel has lift + ye no ixcuse to fight him any more. He says he's a thafe, but + I don't belave Come git a wash and let's wrap up yer hand." + </p> + <p> + At that moment the dignified voice of Gaskin came from the + forward pontoon. The crew hushed their hot comments on the + fight to listen. + </p> + <p> + "A sail," called the cook. "A sail to th' sou'west, sir!" + </p> + <p> + Instantly every man moved forward. The fight was forgot in + the great hope of a rescue. Even the gory looking principals + hurried forward to see if such welcome news could be true. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH12"><!-- CH12 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <center> + THE RETURN OF THE <i>VULCAN</i> + </center> + <p> + Etched against the horizon lay a stumpy masted vessel that + seemed as still and dead as ocean that rotted around it. She + had not a sail aloft nor a plume of smoke in her funnel. For + the moment this lifelessness was not observed by the hungry + castaways. A joyous medley arose from the dock. + </p> + <p> + "Th' <i>Vulcan</i>! Hit's th' <i>Vulcan</i>! Th' good + <i>Vulcan</i>! We'll 'ave full rations t'night, 'at will! + Hurrah!" + </p> + <p> + They fell to cheering. Voices arose in confusion. + </p> + <p> + "<i>Vulcan</i> ahoy! <i>Vulcan</i> ah-o-oy!" they bellowed in + an effort to span the miles with human ices. + </p> + <p> + "Say, lads, she ain't movin'!" cried someone making the + surprising discovery. + </p> + <p> + "Faith and phwat's th' matter with <i>her</i> now?" exclaimed + Hogan in exasperated wonder. + </p> + <p> + A silence fell over the boisterous group. + </p> + <p> + "Out o' coal," hazarded Galton, "that's w'y she harsn't got + back no sooner." + </p> + <p> + "W'ere's 'er sails, then?" + </p> + <p> + "A tug couldn't do nothin' with sails—she isn't made + for sails!" + </p> + <p> + "It ain't w'ot ye're made for, hit's w'ot ye can git in this + blarsted sea!" + </p> + <p> + "Maybe 'er machin'ry's broke?" + </p> + <p> + "Maybe they're hall sick?" + </p> + <p> + "Or dead?" + </p> + <p> + "Maybe——" + </p> + <p> + Madden hurried to his cabin and returned with binoculars. The + men foregathered curiously about him as he scanned the + vessel. He ran his eyes over the tub from stem to poop. She + stood out with absolute distinctness in the glaring light. He + could see her high prow, the swinging buffers along her side, + the wide-mouthed ventilators. He could even make out her name + in rusty letters under the wheel-house. Her small boats were + in place, but he saw neither life nor movement aboard. She + appeared as deserted as a pile of scrap iron. + </p> + <p> + "W'ot are they doin'?" queried Galton. + </p> + <p> + "Nothing." Madden was puzzled over the strange condition of + the tug. + </p> + <p> + "Ain't they crowdin' to th' side, sir, lookin' at us and + fixin' to come to us?" + </p> + <p> + "Nobody's on her," replied Madden. "At least I don't see + anyone." + </p> + <p> + "W'ot! W'ot! Nobody on 'er! Is she deserted, too? Just like + the <i>Minnie B</i>!" chorused apprehensive voices. + </p> + <p> + "Seems so," frowned Madden, then he made up his mind quickly + and moved over to the small boat which had been hauled up on + the forward pontoon. + </p> + <p> + "Fall to, men, lower that dinghy. We'll go over and see + what's the trouble." + </p> + <p> + The crew went about their task with a sudden slump of + enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + "If the crew's gone, sir," mumbled one of the men, as he paid + out the rope, "w'ot's the use goin' across?" + </p> + <p> + "To get to the tug, of course." + </p> + <p> + "An'w'ot'll we do?" + </p> + <p> + Madden looked hard at the cockney. "Get the provisions aboard + if nothing else." + </p> + <p> + "There wasn't none on the <i>Minnie B</i>, sir." + </p> + <p> + "What's the <i>Minnie B</i> got to do with the <i>Vulcan</i>? + We're going to run the tug and dock out of this sea, crew or + no crew—ease away on that rope, Mulcher. Let go! Now + climb down, Galton, loose the tackle and swing her in + alongside the ladder." + </p> + <p> + When the cockneys obeyed, Madden ordered the whole crew into + the small boat. They climbed down the ladder one by one with + a reluctance Madden did not quite understand at the time. + </p> + <p> + Fifteen minutes later, the little boat, loaded down to her + gunwales, set out for the tug. Four oarsmen rowed, one man to + the oar. The slow clacking of shafts in tholes echoed sharply + from the huge walls of the dock as the dinghy drew away + through the burning sunshine. + </p> + <p> + At some half-mile distance, the harsh outlines of the walls + and pontoons changed subtly into a great wine-red castle, + that lay on a colorful tapestry of seaweed, with a background + of blue ocean and bronze sky. + </p> + <p> + As he drew away, Madden had a premonition that the dock was + vanishing out of his life and sight, that never again would + he live in its great walls. Like all crafts in this + mysterious sea, it seemed completely forsaken, deserted. With + a shake of his shoulders he put the thought from him and + turned to face the future in the motionless tug that lay + ahead. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later the dinghy drew alongside the silent + <i>Vulcan</i> and the crew clambered aboard. As they had + suspected, there was no sign of the tug's crew aboard. + </p> + <p> + Although the binoculars had forewarned them of this, the + adventurers bunched together on the deck with a qualmish + feeling and began talking in low tones, as men converse in + the presence of mystery, or death. + </p> + <p> + "We'll search her first," directed Madden, in a tone he tried + to make natural. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," agreed Greer, "and, men, keep a sharp eye out for + lunatics. Don't let anything jump on you——" + </p> + <p> + "Lunatics!" gasped Mulcher. + </p> + <p> + "Greer and I fancied someone scuttled the <i>Minnie B</i>," + explained Madden with a frown, "but that's no sign such a + person is aboard the <i>Vulcan</i>." + </p> + <p> + "They are wonderful like, sir," observed Gaskin. + </p> + <p> + "Anyway we'll look her over." + </p> + <p> + The men agreed and began scattering away, two by two for + companionship. Presently from the port side Hogan raised his + voice guardedly. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, Misther Madden, just stip this way a moment, if you + plaze." + </p> + <p> + The call instantly attracted several other men. They moved + across deck. Hogan was pointing. "Jist th' same as th' other + wan," he said gloomily and significantly. "We knew it would + be this way, sir. It was th' same hand as done it" + </p> + <p> + Leonard looked with rising dismay at the sinister parallel. + </p> + <p> + The <i>Vulcan</i> also was lying at sea anchor. + </p> + <p> + In brief, here was conclusive proof that the tug had been + abandoned deliberately and with forethought by Malone, + Captain Black and the whole <i>Vulcan</i> crew. Moreover, as + in the case of the <i>Minnie B</i>, they had deserted their + ship without taking a boat or even so much as a life buoy. + </p> + <p> + The amazed group of men collected about them other members of + the searching party, who stuck their heads out of ports and + doors now and then to see that no evil magic had set the + rigging in flames. + </p> + <p> + "They all go th' same way," mumbled Hogan, staring at the + anchor and wetting his dry lips. "Oi'm thinkin' it'll be our + toime nixt." + </p> + <p> + "Piffle," derided the American half-heartedly. + </p> + <p> + "It makes no difference what happens," put in Caradoc, "we'll + see the thing through." + </p> + <p> + For some reason the men thought better of Smith since the + fight and his crisp announcement cheered them somewhat. + </p> + <p> + "She's got plenty o' coal," volunteered Galton. + </p> + <p> + "'Er engines look all right," contributed Mulcher, "though I + know bloomin' little about hengines." + </p> + <p> + "I weesh I knew what happened to the men," worried + Deschaillon in his filed-down accent. + </p> + <p> + "My quistion ixactly, Frinchy," nodded Hogan emphatically. + "Misther Madden says 'Piffle,' but Oi say where are they + piffled to? Did they go over in a storm, or die of fever, or + run crazy with heat?" + </p> + <p> + "They didn't starve," declared Mulcher, "for some of th' + fellows are in th' cook's galley now eatin'." + </p> + <p> + Madden lifted his hand for attention, "There's no use + speculating on what has happened. It's our job to get dock + and tug to the nearest port." + </p> + <p> + "But suppose—suppose——" + </p> + <p> + "Suppose what?" + </p> + <p> + "Suppose th' thing gits arfter us, sir?" + </p> + <p> + Madden stared, "Thing—what thing?" + </p> + <p> + The cockney frowned, looked glumly across deck. Galton + answered, + </p> + <p> + "W'y, sir, th' thing that run th' crew hoff the <i>Minnie + B</i> an' hoff th' <i>Vulcan</i>. Crews don't 'op hoff in th' + hocean for amoosement, sir. Some'n' done hit an' that's + sure." + </p> + <p> + "Do you mean you object to sailing this tug on account of + some imaginary <i>thing</i>?" demanded Madden in utter + surprise. + </p> + <p> + "Imaginary, sir!" protested Mulcher, "If you please, us lads + on th' dock, the night th' <i>Minnie B</i> sunk, saw + something swim off to th' south wrapped hall over in fire, + sir. Imaginary thing! It bit a 'ole in th' <i>Minnie B</i> + an' sunk 'er, sir!" + </p> + <p> + This recalled to Leonard's mind the peculiar phenomenon he + had witnessed at the sinking of the <i>Minnie B</i>. + </p> + <p> + "What do you think the thing is?" he temporized. + </p> + <p> + "A—A sea sorpint, sir," stammered a cockney + embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + "Sea serpent! Sea serpent!" scouted the American. "There is + no such thing as a sea serpent!" + </p> + <p> + "That's w'ot th' hofficers always say," growled Mulcher. + </p> + <p> + "But it is a scientific fact—there's no such thing." + </p> + <p> + The well-fed Gaskin, who formed one of the group, made a bob. + "That may well be, sor," he said in solemn deference, "but + w'ether there is or isn't such a thing, sor, it's 'orrible to + see, either way." + </p> + <p> + From the banding of the men against him, Madden became aware + that they had decided on the real cause of the mystery behind + his back, and he would have hard work to argue them out of + the sea serpent idea. + </p> + <p> + "You boys saw a shark or porpoise swimming away from that + schooner," he began patiently. "I saw it myself. You recall, + on that night anything that moved in the water burned like + fire. The ship was brilliant, the oars of the dinghy shone. + The thing you saw had nothing to do with the schooner." + </p> + <p> + "Then w'ot sunk 'er, sor?" + </p> + <p> + "Aye, an' w'ot come of 'er men, sor?" + </p> + <p> + "Aye, an w'ot come of th' <i>Vulcan's</i> crew?" + </p> + <p> + "Could a sea serpent put out a sea anchor?" retorted Leonard. + </p> + <p> + The men stared doggedly at their chief. "We don't know, sor." + </p> + <p> + "You do know that it is impossible!" + </p> + <p> + "If there ain't no such thing, sor, 'ow do we know w'ot it + can do?" questioned Gaskin. + </p> + <p> + "Then do you want to go back and stay on the dock and + starve?" cried Madden at the end of his patience. + </p> + <p> + There was a silence at the anger in his tone, then Gaskin + began very placatingly, "Hi'm not wishin' to chafe ye, sor, + but th' dock is so big th' lads 'ave decided the sorpint is + afraid o' th' dock." + </p> + <p> + At Leonard's impatient gesture he added hastily, "Not that Hi + believe in such things, sor, but Hi carn't 'elp but notice + that hever'body on th' dock is alive, an' hever'body on th' + other two wessels is dead an' gone, sor." + </p> + <p> + Madden turned sharply on his heel. "Anybody who knows + anything about marine engines, follow me," he snapped. "We + must study out a way to start the <i>Vulcan's</i> machinery. + We're going!" + </p> + <p> + As he moved down to the doorway amidship that led below, he + heard Galton mumble: "Yes, <i>we'll</i> be going, Hi think, + down some sea sorpint's scaly throat, but th' tug an' th' + dock'll stay 'ere." + </p> + <p> + If a view of the <i>Minnie B's</i> auxiliary engines had put + hopeful notions in Madden's head of puzzling out their + control by mere inspection, a single glance at the huge + machinery of the <i>Vulcan</i> filled him with despair. + </p> + <p> + The tug's hull was practically filled with a maze of + machinery. Her engines arose in a tower of bracings, wheels, + gearing, pistons, steam pipes, steam valves, with a multitude + of the eccentrics and trip gearings used on quadruple + expansion engines. + </p> + <p> + Although he had seen hundreds of steam engines, never before + had Madden realized their complication until he faced the + problem of running this difficult fabric. His proposed task + made him realize that the engineer's apprentice, who serves + four years amid oil and iron black, learning all the details + of these mechanical monsters, is probably just as well + educated, just as capable of exact and sustained thought, as + the lad who spends four years in college construing dead + tongues. + </p> + <p> + Madden could construe dead tongues, or at least could when he + left college a few months back, but now his life, the life of + his crew, the salving of the dock, and the winning of a + possible fortune, depended upon his answering the riddle of + this Twentieth Century Sphinx. It was like attempting to + understand all mathematics, from addition to celestial + mechanics, at a glance. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, Madden's training as a civil engineer gave him + a certain aptitude for his formidable undertaking and he set + about it with rat-like patience. + </p> + <p> + He picked out the main steam pipe, larger than his body, + covered with painted white canvas, and followed this till he + discovered the throttle, a steel wheel with hand grips with + which he could choke the breath out of the monster engines. + Beside this were control levers. On the steam chest lay a + half-smoked cigarette, as if the engineer had been called + suddenly away from his post. + </p> + <p> + Madden turned the throttle, pushed the levers back and forth, + and listened to clicking sounds high up in the complexity of + the engines. He knew that every lever threw long systems of + vents and valves in and out of play. A wrong combination + would easily wreck all this powerful machinery. He was + tackling a delicate job—like juggling a car-load of + dynamite. + </p> + <p> + An oil can sat under the throttle. The amateur engineer + picked up this and a handful of greasy tow. Engines require + constant oiling. Madden had never watched an engineer ten + minutes but that he went about poking a long crooked-necked + oil can into all sorts of hidden inaccessible places. + </p> + <p> + Madden thought if he tried to oil the engine, he might learn + something about it. He glanced around for the usual myriad + little shining brass oil cups stuck, one on each bearing. To + his surprise, he saw none. The machinery of the <i>Vulcan</i> + was lubricated by a circulatory compression system, which + used the same oil over and over. Madden did not know this, so + it threw him off the track at his first step. + </p> + <p> + No one had followed the boy into the engine room, so now he + was about to go on deck and commandeer a squad, when, to his + surprise, Galton appeared at the top of the circular stairs, + whistling a rather cheerful tune. He leaned over the rail and + called down heartily: + </p> + <p> + "Do you want me, Mr. Madden?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, come along. I wish you knew something about machinery." + </p> + <p> + Galton laughed buoyantly. "I'm not such a chump at hit, sor," + he recommended. + </p> + <p> + "You know something about it?" inquired Madden in surprise. + </p> + <p> + "A bit, a bit, Mr. Madden. My brother Charley is chief + engineer on the <i>Rajah</i> in the P & O, sor." + </p> + <p> + "Ever work under him?" asked the American hopefully. + </p> + <p> + "Two years, only two years, sor. Never did finish my term an' + get my papers. Often's the time 'e's begged me to do it, Mr. + Madden. 'E'd say, ''Enry, me boy, w'y don't ye finish your + term and git a screw o' sixteen pun' per, but I was allus + a——" + </p> + <p> + "That's all right!" cried Leonard delightedly. "I don't care + whether you're a full-fledged engineer or not. You're hired + for this job. Understand? You'll get full wages, and then + some. I'll——" + </p> + <p> + "Oh! I can 'andle a little hengine like this, sor. That's th' + inspirator, sor," he pointed. "That's th' steam chist. In th' + other end is th' condensing chamber. That little hegg-shaped + thing is——" + </p> + <p> + "That's all right; I'm no examining board. Just so you can + run it and keep it running. Now I'll get a gang at the + furnace, if the boys have got over their sea-serpent scare by + this time." + </p> + <p> + "They're jolly well over that, sor. Me and Mulcher 'ave + decided as 'ow we're goin' to kill that sea sorpint, if it + comes a-bitin' into our tug, sor." + </p> + <p> + Madden looked at his willing helper curiously. "Kill + it—how are you going to kill it?" + </p> + <p> + "Dead, sor, yes, kill it dead, sor." Galton nodded solemnly, + "My brother Charley, cap'n o' th' <i>Cambria</i>, sir, in th' + 'Amburg-American Line, 'e learned me to kill sea sorpints, + w'en I was jest a l-little bit of a—a piker, sor. An' I + n-never forgot 'ow 'e told me to do it. You climb up th' + mainmast, sor, w'ere you can git at their 'eads, cross your + fingers for luck, an' blow tobacco smoke in their eyes. They + 'ate tobacco smoke an——" + </p> + <p> + Leonard stared at the fellow, with a sinking heart. He was + drunk. As to whether he knew anything about marine engines or + not, there was no way to find out. + </p> + <p> + The effect of the long strain of heat, hunger and anxiety now + told on Madden in a wave of unreasonable exasperation. + </p> + <p> + "You boozy fool!" snapped the officer, "you haven't sense + enough to run a go-cart. Go down and start a fire in the + furnace—can you do that?" + </p> + <p> + "Shertainly," nodded Galton gravely, "Mr. Madden, I can do + anything. Go bring me th' furnace, and I'll put a fire in it + <i>that</i> quick. I'll start it now." + </p> + <p> + Here he stooped unsteadily, picked up a piece of oily tow, + and before Madden knew what he was about, drew out a match + and set fire to the greasy mass. + </p> + <p> + Leonard made a jump, planted a cracking blow between Galton's + eyes. The fellow went down like a tenpin and lay still. The + American stamped out the blazing tow before the fire spread + on the oily floor. + </p> + <p> + Just then he heard a yelling from the upper deck. Hardly + knowing what to expect, he dived for the circular stairway + and rushed up three steps at a jump. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH13"><!-- CH13 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <center> + THE SEA SERPENT + </center> + <p> + When a new crew is shipped on an old vessel, the mate's first + duty is to search the sailors' dunnage for whiskey; when an + old crew is shipped on a new vessel, that officer would do + well to search the vessel for rum. + </p> + <p> + Madden had neglected this. While the American was in the + engine room, the cockneys in the cook's galley had found + intoxicants, had poured raw whiskey into their empty stomachs + and the result was the quickest and most complete + intoxication. When Madden regained the deck he found his crew + singing, laughing, fighting, quarreling in an absurd medley. + </p> + <p> + Deschaillon roared out a French song. Two cockneys quarreled + bitterly over what words he was saying. Mike Hogan jigged to + the Frenchman's tune, but shouted as he danced that he was + spoiling for a fight. The smell of spirits reeked over the + tug as if someone had sprinkled her deck with liquor. + </p> + <p> + Madden looked with anxious eyes for Caradoc, but did not see + him. Smith was probably stuck away in some hole, senseless + with poison, his effort at sobriety frustrated, his moral + courage shattered, his weeks of painful reform smashed. + </p> + <p> + Whatever humor there might have been in the ill-starred + situation was destroyed for Madden by his friend's moral + relapse. It was much as if some invalid, nursing a broken + leg, should fall and break it over again. + </p> + <p> + Gaskin was the first man who came in reach of the wrathful + American. Madden caught his arm, whirled him about. + </p> + <p> + "You ladle rum out to these hogs?" he blazed. + </p> + <p> + Gaskin revolved with dignity and considered his accuser. "You + wouldn't think Hi'd do such a thing, sor!" + </p> + <p> + "Then how did they get it?" Leonard shook the fat arm + sharply. + </p> + <p> + "In spite o' me, sor! In spite o' me!" defended the cook, + shaking his fat jowls earnestly. "Hi rebooked 'em, sor. Says + Hi, 'Gents, this is lootin', it is piratin', it + is——'" + </p> + <p> + "You should have refused them a drop!" + </p> + <p> + "Refuse—Hi did refuse, sor! Hi did more. Hi blocked + 'em! Hi—Hi fought hout, like a demon, sor! There were + too many! Hoverpowered me, sor, they did! I was fightin' and + blockin', fightin' and blockin', like a d-demon, sor, + b-but—b-but——" + </p> + <p> + Here Gaskin's utterance grew thicker, his fat head bobbed, + then he slithered down by the rail in the hot sunshine; his + face stared skyward and stewed sweat in the terrific heat. + Madden gave a grunt of disgust. Gaskin was fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing to be done. The men were drunk and he would + have to wait till they became sober before making an attempt + to run the <i>Vulcan</i>. He stood a moment, staring + disgustedly at his useless crew, then finally stooped and + dragged Gaskin to the shady side of the superstructure. As he + passed with his burden some of the men made clumsy + tangle-footed efforts to salute. + </p> + <p> + In the shade Leonard found a deck chair, perched himself on + its arm so as not to touch its hot canvas, and sat brooding + glumly. He banished the drunken uproar from his brain and + began totting up his prospects for escape from this foully + beautiful sea. His mind jumped from topic to topic in an + exhausted fashion. He wondered whether or not Galton really + knew anything of marine engines? If the dock would be + discovered by a passing ship? If the tug's crew had really + gone demented and leaped overboard? If there were any + connection between the fate of the <i>Minnie B</i> and the + <i>Vulcan</i>? + </p> + <p> + It seemed to Madden that he had been in the heat and + brilliant garishness of the Sargasso for centuries. He + wondered if the men would become so starved that they would + draw lots to see who should be killed and eaten. + </p> + <p> + Anything, everything, was possible in this isolated sea. Its + normal happenings were unreasonable. It was a place of + madness. He recalled the words of the navvy on the London + dock, "Everything is unreasonable at sea." Certainly that was + true of the vast stewing labyrinth of the Sargasso. He had + lived abnormally so long that it seemed strange to him now to + think that there were comfortable, well-ordered places on the + face of the earth. Just as one cannot imagine snow and ice in + the depth of summer, so Madden could not imagine the simple + comforts of life. It seemed to him the whole world shriveled + under a furnace heat. + </p> + <p> + Such heat, such congestion, he thought, might well breed + sea-monsters. After all, why should there not be a sea + monster? Who could be sure that the old megalosauri, and + megalichthys were extinct? Those monsters existed once upon a + time, certainly. He was half persuaded that they still + existed. + </p> + <p> + A sea serpent! + </p> + <p> + He wondered what a sea serpent would look like? One might + well drive a man insane, cause him to leap overboard in utter + horror. + </p> + <p> + His feverish brooding was interrupted by a wild flood of + abuse from the starboard deck. It was Galton's voice + bellowing: + </p> + <p> + "Were is 'e? Were is that bloody Hamerican? 'E 'it me! 'It me + in th' eye for trying to 'elp 'im! You lads goin' to see me + murdered for nothin'?" + </p> + <p> + Came a medley of drunken questions: + </p> + <p> + "W'ot's th' matter? Who bloodied your bloomin' eyes? W'ot + 'appened?" + </p> + <p> + "That Hamerican chap!" bawled Galton savagely. "'E 'it me for + 'elpin' 'im make a fire! Goin' to see me run over an' + killed?" + </p> + <p> + "Faith Oi didn't see nawthin'," panted Malone, fresh from his + dance + </p> + <p> + "Won't you stan' by a Hinglishman?" shouted the battered one. + </p> + <p> + "Sure we will!" + </p> + <p> + "We're Hinglish!" + </p> + <p> + "Le's 'lect 'nother hofficer an' court martial 'im!" bawled + the sailor venomously. + </p> + <p> + "Sure, make 'im walk a plank!" + </p> + <p> + "Son of a shark!" + </p> + <p> + "Man-killin' crimp!" + </p> + <p> + The whole crew came lurching around toward Madden, filled + with the wordy anger of intoxicated men. + </p> + <p> + The American arose to his feet with little emotion save a + return of his old disgust. He knew he could defend himself + from any assault the crew might make in that condition. But + they made none. They stopped a little way from him, some + drunkenly grave, others winking or leering, some abusive and + threatening. + </p> + <p> + "Go'n' tuh 'lect 'nother captain," announced Mulcher thickly. + "You no reg'lar hofficer!" + </p> + <p> + "You 'it a man for 'elpin' you, and 'urt 'is eye!" + </p> + <p> + "Make 'im walk a plank!" flared out Galton, shaking a big + fist at Leonard. "Make 'im walk a plank!" Leonard observed + that the fellow's nose and forehead were badly bruised, and + dark circles had settled under his eyes. He started for + Madden, when Hogan caught him under the arms. + </p> + <p> + "Phwat you talkin' about, old scout? Walk a plank—you + have to court martial him first." + </p> + <p> + "I don't b'lieve 'e can walk a plank," surmised a cockney + gravely. "'E's too drunk; 'e'd fall hoff." + </p> + <p> + "Where's Farnol Greer, Mulcher?" snapped Madden disgustedly. + "Is he drunk, too?" + </p> + <p> + "D-drunk—you don't think we're drunk, sor?" + </p> + <p> + "We 'ave been drinkin' a little, sor, but we're not drunk." + </p> + <p> + "Oi am," nodded Hogan, resting his chin on Galton's shoulder + as if from deep affection. + </p> + <p> + "Oi don't a—ack loike it, you—hic—you + couldn't tell it on me, b-but Oi—Oi—Oi'm drunk, + aw roight." + </p> + <p> + "I theenk Greer ees in the cook's galley," smiled + Deschaillon, who appeared to be rational; then he added + coolly: "Eef there ees any fighting, I weel help you, Meester + Madden." + </p> + <p> + "Cook's galley!" sputtered Mulcher. "'E's drinkin' hit ever' + drop, lads; come on!" + </p> + <p> + "An' th' grub, too!" added Hogan. + </p> + <p> + This news completely disorganized the court martial and + election committee. Galton himself forgot his revenge in his + thirst. They started aft pellmell in confused haste to help + Greer finish the rum. + </p> + <p> + Leonard made no objection. They were already drunk. They + might as well dispose of the liquor once for all, and then it + would trouble discipline no more. + </p> + <p> + When the men and their turmoil had disappeared, Madden + remained on deck, filled with a dull, heavy feeling of + lassitude and bitterness. It was one of those moments when a + man's hope is swamped in present difficulties. + </p> + <p> + The sun swung slowly down into the western sea, and its + reflections made long blinding streaks in the Sargasso. Its + yellow light transformed the great red dock into an orange + structure that rested on the sea as lightly as the pavilions + of the evening clouds. + </p> + <p> + The perpetual bizarre beauty of the scene was tiring to the + youth. For some reason he thought again of the sea serpent. + It occurred to Madden that an enormous scaly thing, in vivid + spangling colors, embossed with sword-like spines, with a + long convoluted tail, huge red-fanged mouth, would be in + keeping with the scene before him, would indeed produce a + gorgeously decorative effect, such as he had seen in Chinese + pictures. + </p> + <p> + His thoughts took all sorts of queer turns. He wondered what + he would do if he should see such a creature? He walked over + and stood by the rail, staring intently into the colorful + west, half expecting to see some wild dragon of his + imagination. If it should come, he wished for a + camera—a moving picture camera. A moving picture of a + dragon attacking a ship! + </p> + <p> + Just then he caught a strange noise that seemed to emanate + from the air above his head. He stood quite still, hands on + rail, listening. It was repeated. It was a human noise. It + seemed to come from the vacant bronze-colored sky above his + head. He wondered if he were going insane? Just then he + caught sight of Caradoc's torso thrust out from a barrel up + in the shrouding of the foremast. The crew of the + <i>Vulcan</i> had run up the barrel like a whaler's lookout + to post a watch. Into this barrel Caradoc had climbed. + </p> + <p> + The face of Smith wore a strained, desperate look. Madden + stared at him for several seconds, quite taken aback by + finding him in such an unexpected place. One thing, however, + filled the American with deep gratification. The man was not + drunk. + </p> + <p> + "What you doing up there?" called Madden in surprise. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc's broad shoulders sagged drearily. "I don't know," he + said dully. "I fancy I might as well jump overboard and be + done with it." + </p> + <p> + Madden became instantly alert. "Jump overboard! What for?" A + sudden thought hit him. Maybe this was the way they all went? + Then another fear entered his heart. + </p> + <p> + "Say, have you seen anything up there, Smith?... A dragon, + or... sea serpent, or..." Madden stared dumbfounded at his + friend, marveling what manner of sight had put suicidal + thoughts into Smith's head. + </p> + <p> + "Heavens, yes... dragons, dragons, dragons!" + </p> + <p> + A weak, watery feeling went through Madden's legs. He felt + doddery. "Many dragons!" All idea of beauty was lost in + grisly horror. + </p> + <p> + "W-wait a m-minute!" he chattered. "D-don't j-jump—I'm + coming up th-there!" + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH14"><!-- CH14 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <center> + CARADOC WINS HIS FIGHT + </center> + <p> + Trembling all over, Madden gained the barrel and stepped + through a niche in its side. He stared through the brilliant, + hot colors, but no rushing horde of monsters met his eyes. + </p> + <p> + "Which way?" he asked breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc looked around at him in uncomprehending misery. There + was just room for the two in the barrel. Smith seemed to put + his mind to Madden's question with an effort. + </p> + <p> + "Which—what did you say?" + </p> + <p> + "Which way?" + </p> + <p> + "What do you mean?" + </p> + <p> + "The dragons, man, the dragons!" + </p> + <p> + "Dragons—right here!" Smith beat his broad chest, then + waved his long arms about. "Everywhere—don't you smell + it?" + </p> + <p> + The idea of smelling dragons confused the American. "Smell + what?" + </p> + <p> + "The whiskey!" shivered Caradoc. "I came up here to get away + from it." + </p> + <p> + "Oh—so you didn't see—I understand!" + </p> + <p> + "It's tantalizing—horrible!" he shivered again, as if + the superheated air chilled him. + </p> + <p> + The American's own foolish fancies vanished in the face of + his friend's real trouble. Caradoc had met a dragon more + terrible than the Sargasso could conjure up, and its fangs + were in his heart. His flight to the crow's nest had been an + effort to escape its fury, but it had followed him there. + Leonard put a hand on his friend's shoulder. He was at a loss + what to say. Indeed there was nothing to say. + </p> + <p> + "Habit—queer thing, Leonard—I thought I was all + right." + </p> + <p> + "Yes?" + </p> + <p> + "You see, in college I used to take an alcohol rub-down after + my bouts, and a drink. And now, after my fight at + noon—smelling this—you don't know how it brings + it back, appetite, recollections, everything——" + he waved his hands hopelessly again. + </p> + <p> + "Don't think of it. Put your mind on something else." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc gave a short mirthless laugh. "Stand in a + fire—and consider the lilies?" + </p> + <p> + "We've got to consider how we'll ever get out of here, if we + can't run this tug's engines..." + </p> + <p> + "We're stuck! We're stuck!" declared the Englishman + miserably. "I don't see why I don't go down and be a hog + again... we'll finally starve... Somehow I had a mind to die + sober... God knows why I ever came on such a junket." + </p> + <p> + "Starve nothing. We'll get out somehow. We can fish and eat + seaweed and distill our own water. I can make a still. And + you'll get over that appetite. Bound to—can't last + always." + </p> + <p> + Smith relapsed into silence, staring over the dying colors of + the sea. Madden tried to think of simple remedies to abate a + drunkard's appetite for alcohol. He had heard of apples, + lemon juice, but both were as unobtainable as the gold cure + itself. + </p> + <p> + "How long have you been like this?" he asked at last. + </p> + <p> + "Been bad two or three years. Drank some all my life. My + governor taught it to me when I was a baby. Then when I got + older if I went too far he kicked. Naturally I intended to + stop in time, till I slipped in deep." + </p> + <p> + Leonard nodded understandingly. "It always gets a nervous + high-strung fellow. The better stuff you are the harder it + hits you." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc stared moodily seaward as he continued his + recollections. + </p> + <p> + "The governor kept warning me. I don't believe he'd ever have + kicked me out, but he died. Then they cashiered me—took + my commission—and my family let me go, too... Well, I + can't blame 'em." + </p> + <p> + "Your commission—in the army?" + </p> + <p> + "Navy." + </p> + <p> + "What were you?" + </p> + <p> + "Second lieutenant." + </p> + <p> + Madden looked at his friend curiously. Here was a queer pass + for an English naval officer. This revelation explained a + good deal about Smith, his autocratic manner, his many-sided + education, his emotion at leaving England. It even explained + why he had expected Malone to place him in charge of the + dock. + </p> + <p> + "Is there any hope of getting back in?" asked Leonard + sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + "Instauration! Never knew of such a thing in our navy. If I + ever get out of here I'll go in trade somewhere." + </p> + <p> + "In South America?" + </p> + <p> + "I had British Honduras in mind, or Canada. I'd like to keep + in the Empire." + </p> + <p> + A noise below interrupted the conversation. The two youths + looked down. The deck plan of the tug lay flat and empty save + for the inert form of Gaskin. The noise came from inside the + cabin and arose to a shouting. It was a drunken ribald sound. + A suspicion flashed on Leonard's mind. + </p> + <p> + "Those pigs below are wasting the stores," he declared. + </p> + <p> + "They ought to be stopped." + </p> + <p> + "I couldn't stop them without a fight. They were about to + court martial me when they happened to think of something + else." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc stared down in the direction of the noise, "I might + talk them into sense if Greer isn't drunk and wanting to + fight again." + </p> + <p> + "He said he never drank—I don't know." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc nodded, "I'll go down and send them forward," he + asserted with conviction, and started to climb out of the + barrel. + </p> + <p> + Madden looked at the Englishman with a certain apprehension, + "Caradoc, if you go down there where they are drinking, won't + you——" + </p> + <p> + "No, I'm not going to drink." + </p> + <p> + "It will be a temptation." + </p> + <p> + "I have myself in hand now. This talk has done me good. No, + I'm all right." He swung out of the barrel and started down + the ratlines. + </p> + <p> + Leonard watched him anxiously, not at all sure of the outcome + of his mission, not at all sure that the hot smell of rum in + the galley would not again overcome his resistance. + </p> + <p> + The sun was just dipping into the sea and its last light + spread out of the west to the zenith like a huge red-gold + fan. Purplish shadows had already begun to dim the tug and + dock and ocean. + </p> + <p> + Fifteen or twenty degrees above the sunset shone a pale + crescent moon in the burnished sky. The sight of the moon + somehow cheered Madden. He recalled a childish superstition + that it was good luck to see the new moon clear. At any rate, + as the sky darkened, the clear new moon brought Leonard + comfort and renewed hope. + </p> + <p> + With a grateful feeling of the providence of an Almighty that + hung out moon and stars, the youth glanced around the + darkening horizon and presently observed a tiny light far to + the south. He stared at it quite surprised, and then he + chanced to see a star just above it. It was the reflection of + Sirius in Canis Major. + </p> + <p> + The beam of a star must lead any thoughtful soul into endless + reveries. Beneath its calm and infinite light, all human + troubles fade to the brief complaining of a child in the + night. Death becomes a small, unfeared thing, and life + itself, the trail of a finger writing an unknown message upon + water. + </p> + <p> + Filled with such musings, the American noted with surprise + that the light on the sea which he had fancied to be the + reflection of Sirius was moving. It was not the reflection of + a star. + </p> + <p> + It was a light moving in the gathering darkness. + </p> + <p> + What sort of light could it be? A Will o' the Wisp? A Jack o' + Lantern, some phosphoric phenomenon rising in the exhalations + of rotting seaweed? + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes before, his excited imagination would have + conjured up hydras and dragons; now he scrutinized the + mysterious illumination unexcitedly. It winked out + occasionally, then presently reappeared. But it did not move + in an aimless fashion, after the manner of gaseous or + electrical phenomena. It pursued a straight line toward the + <i>Vulcan</i>. That was why Madden had not observed its + movement sooner. + </p> + <p> + Although it had crept only a little way down from the + horizon, the wondering boy could discern its progress plainly + among the dark masses of seaweed that blotched the graying + water. The light was moving toward the <i>Vulcan</i> and at a + high rate of speed. + </p> + <p> + As he watched it, the enigmatical light suddenly disappeared. + The youth blinked his eyes, looked again. It was gone. Then + he became a little uncertain whether or not he had ever + observed any such phenomenon. He glanced down on the dark + deck and could faintly discern the form of the cook. + </p> + <p> + "Gaskin!" he called sharply, "Gaskin!" + </p> + <p> + To his surprise the drunken fellow stirred and made some + mumbling reply. + </p> + <p> + "Get up. I want to know whether or not you can see anything." + </p> + <p> + Came a sluggish stirring from below, and then Gaskin's voice, + in which deference struggled with a bad headache, "Yes, sor, + I can see hever'thing as usual, sor." + </p> + <p> + "I thought I saw a light to the south. Just take a look in + that quarter, will you?" + </p> + <p> + The dopy cook scuffled to his feet and stumbled over to the + rail, hung there, peering intently southward. At that moment, + there burst out of the sea a brilliant illumination that + fairly blinded Madden. Shocked into spasmodic action, the + American jumped from barrel to ratlines. + </p> + <p> + He hardly knew how he got down, as much of a fall as a climb. + Strange fearsome thoughts chased through his head. The men + were right about something attacking the <i>Minnie B</i>. Now + the same thing had attacked the <i>Vulcan</i>. The + <i>Vulcan</i> would be sunk. He must rush the men out of the + galley into the small boat. He must race back to the dock. + The dock apparently was safe. What the startling apparition + was, he had no time to speculate. When he touched the deck he + sprinted for the cabin. + </p> + <p> + As he passed Gaskin the light vanished as mysteriously as it + had appeared, and left the tug in inky darkness. + </p> + <p> + Madden heard the cook give a deferential cough and then say, + "Yes, sor, Hi saw it, Mr. Madden, saw it quite plainly, sor." + </p> + <p> + A moment before Leonard reached the cabin door, someone flung + the shutter open violently and shouted his name in the utmost + alarm. + </p> + <p> + "Mister Madden! Mister Madden! Come quick, sir!" + </p> + <p> + The American lunged through the dark aperture straight into + the fellow's arms. In the darkness he could not make out who + it was. + </p> + <p> + "Don't be afraid! Did you see it? Where are the rest of the + men?" + </p> + <p> + "In the galley, sir, with him!" stammered the sailor, + </p> + <p> + "Are they in a funk?" gasped Madden, feeling that he himself + was in one. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, they are that, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Why don't they come on out? We must get 'em out!" + </p> + <p> + "They're with him, sir, 'fraid to touch 'im!" + </p> + <p> + "With who?" + </p> + <p> + "Mr. Caradoc, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Afraid to touch him—why, what's the matter?" + </p> + <p> + "'E's dead, sir." + </p> + <p> + A feeling as if ice water had been dashed over his body + shivered through Leonard. The black cabin seemed to swing + under his feet. His arms dropped down and he stood perfectly + still staring into the blackness from whence came the + sailor's voice. + </p> + <p> + "You—you don't mean he's <i>dead</i>?" he asked in a + shocking whisper. + </p> + <p> + "That I do, sir, dead as a lump o' seaweed." + </p> + <p> + Madden turned and walked with a queer light feeling toward + the galley. He was in no hurry now. If that strange light + sank them, drowned them, it made little difference. An idea + came into his mind. + </p> + <p> + "Did—did you fellows kill him—murder, him?" he + asked in a hard undertone. + </p> + <p> + The tenseness of his voice seemed to scare the sailor, "No, + sir, no, sir, no, sir!" repeated the cockney over and over. + </p> + <p> + "For I'll shoot the man down like a dog! I'll hang him! + I'll—I'll——" + </p> + <p> + "We—we didn't touch 'im!" cried the sailor in hoarse + alarm. "'E done it 'isself, sir. Went clean crazy, kilt + hisself—'orrible!" As the sailor gasped out "horrible" + they entered the cook's galley where a dim light burned and a + group of silent, sobering men stood in a knot over some + object. + </p> + <p> + Madden shoved through to where two men stooped over a long + body, dimly seen on the decking. The two men were Hogan and + Deschaillon. + </p> + <p> + With his strange feeling still strong upon him, Madden knelt + between the two. Caradoc lay limp and motionless, with a dark + stain slowly spreading on the boards under his head. + </p> + <p> + "Tell me about this," commanded Leonard, thrusting a hand + under the prostrate man's shirt and feeling for his heart. + The request set loose a babble. + </p> + <p> + "'E did it 'isself, sor!" "Split hopen 'is own 'ead, right + enough!" "W'ack, 'e took 'isself, w'ack!" "Aye, that 'e did, + sor!" "It sounds queer, an' it looked queerer, but 'e did, + sor!" + </p> + <p> + Madden made a sharp angry gesture for silence, "One at a + time. Mulcher, what happened?" + </p> + <p> + "'E comes in, Mr. Madden," began the cockney more composedly, + "an' says, 'Forward, men, lively now,' an' Galton 'e turns + an' says, 'Ye may take that, ye—'" + </p> + <p> + Again came the irrepressible chorus, "Aye, that 'e did, sor!" + </p> + <p> + "If a man speaks before I address him, I'll brain him!" + shouted Madden. "Hogan, what happened?" + </p> + <p> + "If you plaze, Misther Madden, Misther Smith came in and + asked iv'rybody to stip forward and quit atin' up th' grub. + Galton was mad innyway, an' had a glass o' whiskey in his + hand. 'Quit atin'!' yills Galton. 'A officer niver wants + nobody to ate but himself.' Then, 'Take thot!' he yills, and + flings his whiskey straight into Smith's face. + </p> + <p> + "Av cour-rse, we ixpected to see him smash Galton to + smithereens, him being dhrunk—Galton, I mane—but + he stood still as a post, sir, and tur-rned white as a sheet. + I filt sorry for th' gintilmin—him putting up sich a + good foight this avening—so Oi thought if he didn't + want to fight, I'd help him pass it off aisy. I had a glass + o' liquor in me own hand. I offers it to him. Says I, 'Pay no + attention to th' spalpeen at all, Misther Smith,' says I; + 'he's a fool to be throwin' away good liquor loike that; and + have this dhrink on me, and if he does it again Oi'll pitch + him out o' the port.' With that I handed him me glass. + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir, he took it, an' I belave there was niver another + face on earth loike his, whin he hild up that glass to th' + lamp. His hand shook so some of the sthuff shpilled. His face + was loike a corpse. He shtarted to dhrink. Put it to his + lips. Thin of a suddint, loike it had shtung him, he yills + out, 'God 'a' mercy!' flings down th' glass, which smashes + all over th' floor, lowers his head an' plunges loike a + football tackle, head fir-rst, roight into th' sharp edge o' + that locker there where ye see th' blood an' hairs stickin'. + Down he wint, loike he's hit wid an axe, wid his skull broke + in siv'ral pieces no doubt. Mad as a hatter, sir, fr-rom th' + hate. Though it's sich an onrasonable tale, sir, I won't + raysint it if ye call me a liar to me teeth." + </p> + <p> + Madden had found the Englishman's heart still beating. He + pressed his fingers in the long bloody wound on his head and + the skull appeared sound enough under the long gash. + </p> + <p> + "Get him out on deck," he ordered sharply, in an effort to + keep his voice from choking in his throat. + </p> + <p> + "Out on deck! He's not dead! Get him in fresh air!" + </p> + <p> + Hogan, Deschaillon, and two navvies caught him by the legs + and arms. Madden lifted the bleeding head from which the + blood still ran in a steady trickle. The crowd gave back and + the five men with their grewsome burden passed through the + galley's door into the dark passage. + </p> + <p> + Just then a sudden vibration went through the whole ship, as + if the <i>Vulcan</i> had been struck by some enormous force. + The men carrying Smith staggered. There burst out a blare of + confusion, amazed cries, shouts of terror. There was a + stampede in the narrow passage. Flying men bumped into the + bearers of the sick man. They were shrieking, "We're struck! + We're foundering! Th' sea sorpint's got us!" + </p> + <p> + "Launch the small boat and stand by till we get there!" + bellowed Madden. + </p> + <p> + All the carriers dropped Smith's body and bolted in the + panic. Madden braced himself against the rush of the crew and + held up the senseless man lest he be trampled on in the + blackness. The uproar in the passage was terrific as the men + tried to squeeze through all together. Every moment Madden + expected a rush of sea water down the passageway. Just then, + he felt someone else lift at Caradoc. + </p> + <p> + "Go on," said Farnol Greer's voice. "Let's get him out, sir." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH15"><!-- CH15 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <center> + TOWED! + </center> + <p> + When the American pushed outside with his burden, a breeze + swept the deck of the <i>Vulcan</i> with an unexpected + coolness. The vibrations had almost ceased, but there was a + slight hissing of water from somewhere, and a feeling of + movement. The men were in a hubbub on the port side where the + small boat lay tied. + </p> + <p> + Filled with the idea that the ship was about to founder, + Madden stared about. To his vast astonishment, he discovered + the tug was not sinking, but moving. The <i>Vulcan</i> was + under way. The noise he heard was the swift displacement of + water. For some unaccountable reason, the vessel glided + southward at a speed of eight or ten knots. + </p> + <p> + In the uproar forward, Madden heard the cries: "Th' dinghy's + swamped!" "We carn't reach 'er!" "Cut 'er loose and jump!" + "We couldn't right 'er in th' water!" "Cut 'er and jump! + Quick! 'Eaven knows w'ot's got us!" + </p> + <p> + "Steady! Steady, men!" bawled Madden, laying Caradoc down on + the deck and hurrying across to his panicky crew. "What's + moving us?" + </p> + <p> + "We don't know, sir! Th' sea sorpint! Grabbed our cable and + made off!" + </p> + <p> + "Can you see it?" + </p> + <p> + "Just make it out, sir, ahead!" + </p> + <p> + "Cut th' cable!" cried another voice; "that'll get us loose!" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, get an axe—Quick!" + </p> + <p> + A dim figure came running aft past Madden for the axe. The + American shouted at him: "Come back! Don't touch that towing + line! Let things alone!" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, but this'll drag us to the bottom!" chattered one of + the men forward. + </p> + <p> + "We'll get in the dinghy when the ship goes down!" + </p> + <p> + "We might row to the dock from here!" + </p> + <p> + The men stood in a string along the rail, below them in the + hissing water the dinghy tossing topsy turvy. + </p> + <p> + "What's towing us? I don't see it?" cried Madden. + </p> + <p> + Several arms pointed forward. Leonard peered through the + gloom. The crescent moon and the stars filtered down a tinsel + light. The faint shine merely made the darkness more evident + Madden seemed to catch a glimmer of a bulk at the end of the + anchor line some hundred yards distant. He listened but heard + only the gurgle of the <i>Vulcan's</i> wake and the creak of + her plates. + </p> + <p> + When the sheer panic of surprise had worn away somewhat, the + weirdness of the uncanny voyage came upon the crew with + tenfold force. They stood gripping the rail, staring ahead + with the feeling of condemned prisoners on their way to the + gallows. + </p> + <p> + "We're 'eaded for the 'ole in th' sea!" muttered Mulcher. + </p> + <p> + "We'll go down tug an' hall," mumbled Galton unsteadily. + "Fish bait, that's w'ot we are!" + </p> + <p> + "I've heard sea serpents can sting a man and numb him so he + won't live or die," shivered Hogan, "like a spider stings a + fly." + </p> + <p> + They spoke in half whispers under the influence of the + unknown terror. + </p> + <p> + "If anything happens, I shall keel myself," declared + Deschaillon, with nervous intensity, "but I shall see it + first." + </p> + <p> + "That's w'ot went with the other two crews—killed + theirselves," chattered Mulcher. + </p> + <p> + Another silence fell. The cool breeze came as a sort of + mockery of their unknown peril. For the first time since the + storm every man was thoroughly comfortable physically. + </p> + <p> + "Boys," planned Hogan, "whin th' thing comes aboard, we'll + put up th' best foight we can!" + </p> + <p> + "It don't come aboard—it bites a 'ole in th' 'ull." + </p> + <p> + "Aye, like th' <i>Minnie B</i>." + </p> + <p> + Just then a figure approached the men unsteadily, and Madden + saw that Caradoc had recovered consciousness and was able to + walk. As the tall, gaunt figure approached, the crew eyed him + as if he were some new danger, then he asked. + </p> + <p> + "What is this? Are we moving?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes we're off," replied Madden. + </p> + <p> + "Under our own power?" he inquired, turning around and + staring at the smokeless funnel. + </p> + <p> + "No, we're being towed." + </p> + <p> + "Towed! Towed!" exclaimed Smith in a weak voice. "What's + towing us?" + </p> + <p> + "We don't know, sor," replied a cockney. + </p> + <p> + There was a silence in which Caradoc stood tall and + cadaverous as a ghost. "Am I dreaming this, Madden?" he + muttered finally. "Did you say we were being <i>towed</i>?" + </p> + <p> + "That's right." + </p> + <p> + "What's towing us—not—not the dry + dock—don't say the dry dock's towing us!" + </p> + <p> + "We don't know, sor," repeated the cockney. + </p> + <p> + "Where are we going?" + </p> + <p> + "To be killed, sor." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc moved slowly over to the rail and sat against it near + Madden. + </p> + <p> + "A cool breeze," he murmured gratefully. + </p> + <p> + The American was lost amid the wildest speculations as to the + mysterious agent that had the <i>Vulcan</i> in tow. He was + trying to think logically, but found it hard in that + atmosphere of terror. The utter weirdness of the whole affair + defied analysis. The towing of the <i>Vulcan</i> by an + unknown power was the very climax of the fantastic. No + hypothesis he could form even remotely approached an + explanation. + </p> + <p> + It could not be some sea monster surging steadily at the tow + line of the <i>Vulcan</i>. That theory was untenable. A + monster might attack; it would never tow. + </p> + <p> + But any other, attempt to account for the strange predicament + fell equally as flat. What human agency would operate so + mysteriously in this hot, stagnant sea? Why should any group + of men entrap the helpless crew of the <i>Vulcan</i> with + such a display of mystery and power? It was useless. It was + ridiculous. It was shooting a mosquito with a field gun. + </p> + <p> + All his thoughts ended in utter absurdity. He felt that he + had run up against some vast power. The schooner <i>Minnie + B</i>, the tug <i>Vulcan</i>, were but trifling units in the + enigma of this deserted, weed-clogged sea. It must be some + power whose operations were ocean-wide. + </p> + <p> + Why such a spot should be chosen?—Why a power that sank + one ship out of hand and towed another mile after + mile?—Why it operated only at night?—What lay at + the heart of this brooding fabric of terror—he could + not form the slightest conception. Outlawry, piracy, + smugglery, were all goals too small for such operations. + </p> + <p> + His thoughts seemed to be physical things trying to clamber + up the smooth polished side of an enormous steel plate. They + made not the slightest progress. The more he thought, the + more unaccountable all phases of the question became. + </p> + <p> + In absolute perplexity, he turned to the Englishman at his + side. He could just make out the blur of Caradoc's face. + </p> + <p> + "Have you a theory about this, Smith?" he asked in a low + voice. + </p> + <p> + The Englishman nodded in silence. + </p> + <p> + "What is it?" + </p> + <p> + "I—I got my head hurt awhile ago. I believe I'm + delirious—dreaming." + </p> + <p> + Leonard thought this over without any feeling of amusement. + "That doesn't explain why I see it too," he objected gravely. + "Nothing wrong with my head—that I know of." He tried + the time honored experiment of pinching himself. + </p> + <p> + "I shall assume that I am awake," he decided after he had + felt his pinch. "I may not be, but I'm going to act as if I + were." + </p> + <p> + Madden had an impression that Caradoc was smiling in the + darkness. Just then Gaskin began laughing shrilly in a queer + metallic voice. + </p> + <p> + "Quit that!" snapped half a dozen thick voices at once, as if + his laughter had violently shocked their tense nerves. + </p> + <p> + Gaskin pointed a stumpy arm off the starboard bow, "Look! + Look!" he gasped. "It's that rotten whiskey! Whiskey done it! + Whiskey made me see that! Look w'ot whiskey done!" + </p> + <p> + Leonard had no idea that anything could be added to the + nightmarish quality of the adventure, but there off the + starboard arose a great bulk, blotting out the stars. It was + not a ship; it was not a barge; there was not a light on it, + but it seemed somehow dimly illuminated. It was as shapeless + as death. + </p> + <p> + "The Flyin' Dutchman!" shuddered Galton. + </p> + <p> + "It burns a blue light!" corrected Hogan with chattering + teeth. + </p> + <p> + "Th' ship o' the dead!" shivered Mulcher. + </p> + <p> + A sudden explanation flashed into Madden's head. "You fools + are afraid of our own dry dock," he whispered briefly. "We've + traveled in a circle and reached the dock again." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, no, sor, it ain't that! Tain't th' dry-dock, sor!" + aspirated several fear-struck voices. + </p> + <p> + The crew held their breaths as if the apparition might vanish + as suddenly as it appeared. + </p> + <p> + By this time the moon lay flat on the sea, throwing a faint + shining streak across the dark Sargasso. This vague light was + enough to show Madden, when he took a close look, that it was + not the dock. + </p> + <p> + The thing he saw was an enormous mass without the severe + angular shape of the great dock. Its outline rose crude and + shapeless, as well as he could trace it among the canopy of + stars, and gave not the slightest intimation as to what use + it could be. + </p> + <p> + As they stared, the speed of the <i>Vulcan</i> slackened + sensibly. The faint rippling of water under the prow ceased. + The breeze fell away into a dead blanket of heat. It was as + if a sweatbox had been cooped over the crew. + </p> + <p> + "The thing's cut loose from us," said a weary voice. + </p> + <p> + Hogan laughed shortly: "Everybody out—fifteen minutes + for refrishmints." + </p> + <p> + "Yonder goes that thing!" cried Galton. "Hi can see it!" + </p> + <p> + Indeed, by peering carefully, Madden could follow the slender + outline of the mysterious craft that had towed the + <i>Vulcan</i> to this uncanny spot. It had now left the tug + and was gliding away to the great misshapen fabric that + sprawled on the sea. + </p> + <p> + Every eye strained to see the outcome of this strange + maneuver, when suddenly from the gliding vessel there shot a + dazzling light that spread over the bulky mass. Under the + beating illumination every detail of the huge vessel stood + out garishly. She was immense, with a broad flat prow like a + railway ferryboat. She stood high in the water and seemed to + have three promenade decks around her. + </p> + <p> + There was no mast, no rigging, no outside gearing. One squat + funnel amidship told that she used steam for some purpose, + and out of this funnel black masses of smoke rose slowly in + the motionless air. She resembled no craft Madden had ever + seen. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding her enormous size, everything about the + vessel impressed Madden that she was built for secrecy. She + was squat, considering her length and breadth. It was as if + her designer were trying to make a craft invisible at sea. As + near as Madden could determine in the strange light, she was + painted a pale sky-blue. During the day, no doubt, she melted + into the sky like a chameleon. + </p> + <p> + As the smaller craft approached its huge mate, its circle of + light contracted until it finally concentrated into a + dazzling white spot centered on the prow of the monster. This + spot diminished to an intense point, like an electric arc + between carbons. A sharp reflection of this point streaked + the water between the tug and the mysterious vessels. + </p> + <p> + Then, under the unbelieving eyes of the crew, the little + vessel ran completely into the larger one and was gone. The + light vanished instantly. Utter blackness fell over the + dazzled eyes of the watchers. + </p> + <p> + There were gasps, explosive curses of bewilderment, + amazement. The little boat had disappeared into the larger. + Impossible! Gaskin began his shrill laughter again. Then he + gurgled in the darkness as if somebody's fingers had clamped + his windpipe. + </p> + <p> + Madden's mind attacked more violently than ever the + incomprehensible motives behind this inscrutable mystery. + What was the key to this incredible affair? In the midst of + his mental struggle, he felt a hand on his arm, Caradoc said + in his ear, + </p> + <p> + "What do you say we get in the small boat and pay them a + visit?" + </p> + <p> + "It's a big risk. I daresay we'll get our heads blown off." + </p> + <p> + "I had thought of that," agreed Caradoc. + </p> + <p> + "Come on," said the American, and the two moved across the + deck to see if they could still use the dinghy, which had + been trailing along all this time. + </p> + <p> + Nearly an hour later, the two boys in the dinghy approached + the puzzling craft with muffled oars. As Madden and Caradoc + drew near, the vast size of the strange ship grew more + striking. The faint impression of light which they had first + received grew stronger and Madden saw that the decks were + illuminated by long bands of diffused light, although he + could not guess its origin. + </p> + <p> + On the lowest deck, the American made out the small figure of + a man marching back and forth with a gun. + </p> + <p> + At this sight, both boys stopped rowing, lifted the oars from + tholes and began paddling noiselessly, canoe-fashion. + </p> + <p> + "That must be the accommodation ladder," whispered Madden, + "where the guard is." + </p> + <p> + "Who are they afraid will board them?" queried Caradoc. + "Mermaids?" + </p> + <p> + "It is a strange precaution to take in the Sargasso," agreed + the American. "It is going to make our entrance difficult." + </p> + <p> + They ceased paddling now and drifted silently toward the + monster. + </p> + <p> + "I wonder if they aren't smugglers," hazarded Caradoc, + </p> + <p> + "Must be up-to-date, to use submarines—a submarine + would defy detection, wouldn't it?" + </p> + <p> + "And rich—nobody but millionaire smugglers could get + together all this paraphernalia." + </p> + <p> + "I'll venture insurance is at the bottom of this fraud, + Caradoc," hazarded Madden. "These swindlers insure a cargo, + bring it to this place, reship it, sink the vessel, or + repaint and rebuild it, then collect the insurance + money—do you remember the log of the <i>Minnie B</i>?" + </p> + <p> + "No, I didn't read it." + </p> + <p> + "It stated her cargo had been reshipped—reshipped from + the Sargasso. The entry may have been for the benefit of Davy + Jones. Anyway, they are methodical scoundrels." + </p> + <p> + The lads fell silent as the hugeness of this nefarious + business gradually dawned on them. For insurance swindlers + and smugglers to work on such a large scale, very probably + the organization branched over the whole civilized world. + This vast shapeless vessel was a spider at the center of a + great network of criminality. + </p> + <p> + "Say, the Camorras are mere infants in crime compared to + these men," shuddered Leonard. "I suppose they murder the + crews—drown 'em." + </p> + <p> + "They would have to get 'em out of the way somehow." + </p> + <p> + "Then Malone and all the tug's crew are..." + </p> + <p> + There was an expressive silence. + </p> + <p> + After a while Caradoc whispered, "Well, shall we try to get + aboard?" + </p> + <p> + "Wouldn't do any good." + </p> + <p> + "It won't do any good to stay here." + </p> + <p> + "No, we can't hide on the tug always, and we can't run her + engines. <i>You</i> don't know anything about marine engines, + do you, Caradoc?" + </p> + <p> + "Very little. I couldn't run one." + </p> + <p> + For several minutes, the two adventurers sat in silence, + watching the small erect figure of the guard pace and repace + his short path. Presently Madden said: + </p> + <p> + "I've thought of one chance, Caradoc, to escape being starved + or murdered." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, what's that?" + </p> + <p> + "It—it's almost too wild to propose, but it's all I can + think of. As far as I know it's absolutely our last chance." + </p> + <p> + "Go on, go on," urged the Englishman impatiently. "I don't + know of any way out whatever." + </p> + <p> + "If we could slip aboard there and—and—well, + kidnap somebody who knows how to run our engines, bring him + back to the tug, fire up and make a race to South + America—but there's no sense to a scheme like that. + Captain Kidd himself wouldn't be up to it." + </p> + <p> + A long silence followed this ultimatum, then Caradoc said, + "Oh, it's possible, I suppose. The mathematical formula of + possibility would work out about ten million chances to one + that we lose." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I know it's risky." + </p> + <p> + "And how do you hope to get in past that guard?" + </p> + <p> + "We'll have to climb up the ladder right under him, hang + there until he is on his up-deck walk, then swing inside and + when he turns around we could be simply strolling up the deck + toward him. There must be a lot of fellows on such a big + ship. Maybe he doesn't know them all." + </p> + <p> + "Why do you want to stroll <i>toward</i> him?" + </p> + <p> + "Because if he saw us walking off in the other direction, he + would know we had not passed him, and so we must have come up + the ladder." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc shook his head in the darkness. "I'm going to try to + jump on that guard when he turns his back, and down him." + </p> + <p> + "He'd give an alarm sure. We mustn't disturb him till we get + ready to leave, then let him yell." + </p> + <p> + "What you are planning, Madden, is simply impossible. I like + to be as conservative as possible." + </p> + <p> + "We can turn around and row back to the + <i>Vulcan</i>—and starve." + </p> + <p> + "Go ahead to the accommodation ladder. However, it's + impossible." + </p> + <p> + As the two moved silently nearer a murmur of machinery in the + vast fabric came to them. As their tiny boat swung in beside + the high hull, they could hear this noise quite plainly, and + they trusted to this rumble to screen their operations + somewhat. They ceased paddling and allowed the dinghy to + drift against the iron side of the vessel. They could no + longer see the deck and the guard, owing to the swell in the + high metal wall. But presently they came to the rope ladder + which they anticipated hung below the guard's station. + </p> + <p> + Madden caught this and tied the dinghy to it with the crawly + feeling of a man who expects to have a gun fired at him the + next moment. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc came up and the two adventurers stood in the boat's + prow, both holding to the ladder. + </p> + <p> + "I'll bet that scoundrel shoots down," whispered Leonard, + "before we get halfway up." + </p> + <p> + "Don't talk so loud—are you ready to try it?" + </p> + <p> + "What are you going to do—jump on him?" breathed + Leonard. + </p> + <p> + "No, your plan. If you see he is going to shoot you before + you get inside, jump backwards and dive." + </p> + <p> + "And remember to go far enough out not to hit the dinghy." + </p> + <p> + "Good." + </p> + <p> + Madden stared up into the mysterious vessel, caught the + ladder and swung himself silently onto the rungs. Caradoc + mounted close behind him. They had mounted only two or three + steps, when a sudden terrific report thundered above their + heads. + </p> + <p> + It was so unexpected, so violent, that the two boys almost + tumbled into the sea. The next instant they found themselves + wrapped in an atmosphere of hot, stifling steam. They clung + to the rungs in a veritable steam-bath that roared and + plunged around them. When Madden collected his senses, he + realized that it was merely a safety discharge from the + boilers. The main steam pressure did not strike them, but + they swung in the hot wet fringe of the exhaust. Had they + been ten feet farther aft, they would surely have been boiled + to death. As it was they were immersed in uncomfortably hot + vapor. + </p> + <p> + They clung, rather unnerved by the uproar, enduring the heat + for four or five minutes, when suddenly an idea occurred to + Madden. He leaned down to Caradoc and shouted in his ear. + </p> + <p> + "How about going up now? Couldn't see us in this steam." + </p> + <p> + For reply, Caradoc shoved his friend upward, and so they + scrambled aloft like two monkeys. + </p> + <p> + Fortunately for them, the night was windless and the white + steam drifted straight up and as it rose, it spread out in an + impenetrable fog. Cloaked in this vapor, the two adventurers + scrambled up some thirty-five feet to the first deck. The + steam was thick inside the rail. Covered by the noisy shriek + of the exhaust, they jumped inside the promenade without + being heard or seen, and a moment later, they dropped arm in + arm, like two casual strollers, and moved up deck. + </p> + <p> + Two minutes later, when the roaring exhaust had ceased and + the vapor had cleared away, the guard with the gun could + never have guessed that the two men he saw slowly promenading + the deck had drifted over the rail, out of the night, with + the clouds of the noisy exhaust. + </p> + <p> + Neither of the lads so much as glanced at the sentinel as + they strolled past him. Caradoc was saying in the low tones + men use when conversing in the darkness: + </p> + <p> + "Do you suppose that fellow knows anything about engines?" + </p> + <p> + And Madden replied just as confidentially, as he sized the + gun man up out of the tail of his eye, "No, I'm sure he + doesn't. An engineer never has to stand guard." + </p> + <p> + "How are we ever going to spot an engineer?" + </p> + <p> + For the first time since starting, a little thrill of the joy + of adventure crept into Madden's heart. He felt like a ferret + venturing into a rat's den. + </p> + <p> + "Why you can tell an engineer easily," he murmured. "You've + seen 'em, oily fellows, with black smudges." + </p> + <p> + "That describes a fireman, too." + </p> + <p> + "No, a fireman's not so oily and is more cindery—then + we'll know one by his cap." + </p> + <p> + "Certainly," breathed Smith. "I hadn't thought of that." + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding his danger, Madden could not help smiling as + he moved along after the fashion of a careless stroller, when + he was really keenly alert for a man with an engineer's cap. + </p> + <p> + The two youths were walking up a long deck, dimly lighted by + small incandescent bulbs placed on the inner surface of the + outside stanchions about thirty feet apart. Each bulb was + carefully blinded from the ocean by a sheath, which confined + its glowworm radiance exclusively to the promenade. On the + inboard side were a long series of port holes, likewise + hooded from observation. Some were aglow, others dark. + </p> + <p> + The deck, rails, cabin walls, ports, hoods, joists of the + top-deck were newly washed and scrupulously clean. Fifty + yards up-deck, where perspective and the sheer of the ship + gave the promenade the appearance of a long, up-curved + tunnel, the boys caught sight of a gang of men scrubbing down + deck. A little beyond the scrubbing gang, some garments + fluttered on a line drying in the night air. + </p> + <p> + As they drew nearer, Madden perceived they were muscular men, + with faces bronzed by tropic sunshine. Some of their necks + and cheeks were peeling, as if from sunburn. On the whole + they had a healthy, hearty appearance that fitted in badly + with Madden's theory of murderers and thieves. Instead of a + piratical aspect, the promenade bore a strong resemblance to + a deck scene on some crack transatlantic liner, except for + the blinded lights and ports and the armed guard. + </p> + <p> + The wanderers passed the scrub gang without trouble and came + to the drying laundry. The number of these shirts and + trousers and under clothing suggested the hulk must contain a + large number of men. If these men <i>were</i> smugglers and + insurance swindlers, they had systematized their life after + rigid military discipline. + </p> + <p> + They moved through the laundry with fading hopes of + kidnapping an engineer from such a formidable institution, + when they were startled by a human laugh. It sounded in their + ears and was as unexpected as a shriek in church. For an + instant they thought they were apprehended. Then they + understood the sound came from one of the lighted ports. + </p> + <p> + They moved softly among the shirts and trousers until they + reached the suspected port. Inside they heard a very trivial + conversation in English. + </p> + <p> + "I'm after that jack of yours, Captain Cleghorne," declared a + thick voice with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + "I played low, remember that," + </p> + <p> + A silence, then a burst of laughter. + </p> + <p> + "He ran that jick over your king!" + </p> + <p> + Leonard stood beside the port blind making a tantalizing + effort to recall something. Where had he heard the name + "Cleghorne?" He repeated it mentally several times. + </p> + <p> + "Cleghorne, Cleghorne——" of a sudden it came to + him. He had never heard it, but had seen it framed in the + license that hung in the chart room of the schooner, + <i>Minnie B</i>. + </p> + <p> + With a heart thumping against his ribs at this strange and + amazing coincidence, the American ducked his head carefully + under the port hood and looked in. + </p> + <p> + For a moment his eyes were blinded by electric lights. Then + he observed a group of men sitting around a table playing + cards. They were in obviously comfortable spirits, nothing + criminal or warlike. One was a long cadaverous figure that + suggested to Madden, Cleghorne, the Yankee commander of the + <i>Minnie B</i>. + </p> + <p> + When his eyes strayed across the table to Cleghorne's + partner, Leonard's knees almost crumpled in surprise. He was + looking at the old commander of the floating dock, Mate + Malone. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH16"><!-- CH16 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <center> + CARADOC TAKES COMMAND + </center> + <p> + Notwithstanding that Madden's head was under the hood, + Caradoc sensed the fact that his friend had experienced some + profound shock. + </p> + <p> + "What's the matter? What's wrong?," he whispered from the + outside. + </p> + <p> + "The mate—the mate of the <i>Vulcan</i> is in there!" + gasped the American. + </p> + <p> + "Impossible!" Smith dived under the hood for himself. + </p> + <p> + Both heads just managed to squeeze in and the two men stared + at Malone as if he were raised from the grave. The mate, + however, was not funereal. He seemed in the pink of + condition, rather fatter than he had been on the dock, and he + wore the pleased expression of a man well content with life. + </p> + <p> + As men will do when under a fixed stare, he presently glanced + about and his eyes fell on the porthole. He looked at the dim + port for several seconds intently, as if he could not quite + make out their faces. Madden frowned, jerked his head up and + down in a signal for Malone to approach. + </p> + <p> + The mate's little eyes went round at the request. He made a + surprised gesture to his partner, scrambled to his feet and + drew near. The whole cabin followed his motions. + </p> + <p> + "W'ot is it?" he whispered, still peering into the half-faces + seen in the round hole. + </p> + <p> + "Madden and Smith." + </p> + <p> + "<i>W'ot</i>!" + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "Great sharks! W'ot you lads doin' 'ere?" + </p> + <p> + "Came off the tug—what is this?" + </p> + <p> + "W'ot is w'ot?" + </p> + <p> + "This ship we're on?" + </p> + <p> + It seemed as if Malone's little eyes would pop out of his + head. + </p> + <p> + "W'ot—didn't they ketch you? You don't mean to say + you—you jest straggled aboard?" + </p> + <p> + "Sure we did. Catch us? Who is there to catch us?" + </p> + <p> + Malone stared as if at two ghosts. "Say! Say!" he said + hoarsely. "You don't mean to say you ain't caught? You don't + mean you run th' tug up 'ere an' boarded us! You don't + mean——" He turned and whispered hoarsely inside: + "It's th' lads off th' dock, though 'ow they got 'ere, an' + w'ot they're—douse th' light, some o' you fellows." + </p> + <p> + A stifled consternation seized the card players, who crowded + up to the port. A moment later all the lights were snapped + out one after another. + </p> + <p> + "Tell us who there was to catch us," begged Leonard in a + whisper. + </p> + <p> + "Who? W'y a German warship, that's who! One caught + us—an' Cap Cleghorne. Caught th' Cap away hup on th' + Newfoundland Banks. Caught us first day——" + </p> + <p> + "Why should a German warship capture <i>us</i>!" demanded + Leonard in a voice that threatened to rise in excitement. + </p> + <p> + "Quiet! Quiet! 'Eavens, lad! Don't you know? Ain't you 'eard? + W'y it's war! War! War's broke out all over th' world! + Everyw'ere! Ever'body!" + </p> + <p> + "War!" gasped Madden. + </p> + <p> + "War! What countries?" demanded Smith in an excited whisper. + </p> + <p> + "Hall countries! Hingland, France, Rooshia, Japan, that's one + side, an' Germany and Austria on th' other." + </p> + <p> + "America in it?" demanded Madden. + </p> + <p> + "Right enough. Canada is sendin' troops and——" + </p> + <p> + "America! America! The United States of America!" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, no, she's the only nootral in th' whole world among th' + big powers! But she'll be in soon enough!" + </p> + <p> + "What's this we're on?" inquired Caradoc. "It isn't a + warship?" + </p> + <p> + "Kind o' warship. It's a mother ship for + submarines—sort of floatin' dry dock for the little + sneakers. She takes 'em aboard, over'auls 'em, gives 'em new + stores and torpedoes." + </p> + <p> + "England at war!" repeated Caradoc in a maze. "I must get out + of here!" + </p> + <p> + "That's th' word, war!" whispered Malone thickly. "They say + Hingland's got a tight blockade aroun' th' German ports, so + th' German cruisers bring their prizes here in th' Sargasso, + load all the prize stores they capture out o' Hinglish + bottoms into submarines an' run it into Germany <i>under</i> + th' blockade. See? That's w'y this mother ship is 'ere. She + fixes 'em up at this end for their run back." + </p> + <p> + Malone told all this in a hoarse breath. + </p> + <p> + "What do they do with their prisoners—keep them here?" + </p> + <p> + "No, ship 'em to German East Africa an' intern 'em. The + <i>Prince Eitel</i> is due 'ere tomorrow to ship us." + </p> + <p> + So that was the explanation of all this mystery—War! + </p> + <p> + Madden fell silent with the sensation of a man who had lost + his footing on earth. All his life he had been accustomed to + peace. He thought of wars as small affairs that broke out now + and then in South America or when the American Indians got + hold of whiskey. But for Germany, France, England to fight, + to hurl millions of men at each other! It was inconceivable! + </p> + <p> + The boy's brain felt numb as if crushed beneath an enormous + horror. The world was at war! + </p> + <p> + Unless a person actually witness a murder, he cannot imagine + the shock and dreadfulness of seeing one man shot down, + writhe, gasp, grow pale and cease struggling. To picture ten + men murdered simply stuns the mind. An effort to realize + hundreds, thousands, millions of men mangled, wounded, + bayoneted, crushed, blown to atoms by shells and + mine—all this becomes vague, formless, a dim, dreadful + picture that is as unreal as a dream, or history. + </p> + <p> + "What caused it?" asked Madden in a strained tone. + </p> + <p> + "I don't know," whispered the mate huskily. "They say it all + started because an anarchist killed an Austrian prince, but I + don't believe it—that sounds too onreasonable for me." + </p> + <p> + "What has an Austrian prince to do with the rest of the + nations?" + </p> + <p> + "I told you I don't believe it!" repeated the mate. + </p> + <p> + Madden felt impotent at the conclusion of the narrative. As + long as he had conceived himself to be attacking a force of + pirates and thieves, he was ready to board this great vessel, + hunt for an engineer, or attempt any desperate scheme. But + now when he learned that men were being murdered, goods + stolen, ships scuttled, in accordance with a kind of wild + law, called rules of war, he no longer knew what to do. The + world was mad. Its people were murdering each other. + </p> + <p> + He finally said aloud to Caradoc: "I suppose we may as well + hunt up the commanding officer, surrender ourselves and sail + for Africa with the others." + </p> + <p> + "No," interrupted Smith, "don't do that." Then he called + softly inside, "Malone!" + </p> + <p> + "Well, w'ot is it?" inquired the mate gruffly, for he + persevered in his dislike of Smith. + </p> + <p> + "Look sharp, Malone! I am an officer in the English + navy—it is my right and duty to assume command of all + English seamen in case of war!" + </p> + <p> + A blank silence followed this remarkable assumption of + authority. The tone in which it was whispered prevented any + doubts in the minds of his hearers. + </p> + <p> + "Do you understand?" inquired Caradoc in a sharp undertone. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir," replied the mate doggedly. + </p> + <p> + "How many men have you in there?" + </p> + <p> + "Eleven Hinglishmen, sir." + </p> + <p> + "I assume responsibility for those men. From now on accept + orders from me!" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Pass the word around. I am going to hand in some German + uniforms through this port. Let every man put on a uniform!" + </p> + <p> + "Very well, sir!" came the dismayed reply. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc withdrew his head from the hood. In the faint gleam + from the outside incandescents, he fell to untying the + strings by which the suits were leashed to the lines. He + handed eleven suits to Madden, who passed them under the hood + and Malone received them inside. Then Smith deliberately + stripped off his own clothes and drew on a pair of German + trousers. + </p> + <p> + "Get on a pair, Madden," he advised. "Civilian trousers will + be conspicuous in a bright light. You are going to see this + thing through, aren't you?" + </p> + <p> + Madden nodded and followed his companion's example. Five + minutes later the two, transformed into German sailors, + walked out of the hanging laundry. + </p> + <p> + "Don't seem, to observe anything," whispered Caradoc. "Appear + to be going somewhere, on an errand. Walk just as if you + belonged aboard." + </p> + <p> + A moment later the Briton turned down a stairway that led to + a shadowy deck, which was hung with long rows of hammocks + with men sleeping in them. The air down here was remarkably + cool, although Madden did not have time to give much thought + to this. Caradoc pursued his way unhesitatingly among the + sleeping sailors, and presently came to another hatchway, out + of which poured the rumble of machinery and a stream of + light. + </p> + <p> + Down this flight of steps, Smith moved with certainty, and a + moment later Madden saw they were entering a great machine + shop. A full complement of men worked at every lathe, table, + drill or saw. The clang of hammers, the guttering of drills, + the whine of steel planes smote his ears in a cheerful din of + labor. The laborers worked at their tasks with that peculiar + flexibility of forearms, wrists, fingers that mark skilled + machinists. The scent of lubricating oil the faint tang of + metal dust filled the air. Strange to say, the air down here + was even cooler than that in the sleeping deck above. + </p> + <p> + All sorts of queer tasks were progressing. Here, men were + working on gyroscopes that fitted into the shells of + torpedoes; there, they fabricated little hot-air engines + which propelled those instruments of destruction. They were + repairing gauges, steam connections, electrical fittings, + what not. + </p> + <p> + Madden was tempted to pause and stare about this wondershop, + when it occurred to him that if he and Caradoc were + discovered they would be executed as spies. He had not + thought of this before, and the mere suggestion somehow made + him feel stiff and wooden. He was not frightened, but he felt + clumsy, as a schoolboy does when he makes his first public + speech. His arms and legs felt wooden; his head did not seem + to sit in a natural manner on his neck. He felt that if + anyone glanced at him, he would immediately betray himself. + His walk, his looks showed it. He could not imagine why some + workman did not leap out, seize his arm and yell "Spy!" + </p> + <p> + After a long stage-frightened walk, Caradoc turned down + another flight of stairs. Here Madden discovered the secret + of the cool air. On this deck was a big refrigerating plant, + with frost-covered pipes leading in all directions. The sight + of this plant gave Madden some faint insight into the + thorough preparation made by the German government to carry + on their struggle by sea. Long before war was declared, + Germany must have planned a naval base in the Sargasso, and + have foreseen the use of her submarines in evading the + blockade. She had chosen these untraveled seas as a depot, + then established a refrigerated machine shop in order that + the full-blooded German might work comfortably in the + tropics. The plan seemed to have been worked out with + infinite detail. + </p> + <p> + From the refrigeration deck, they descended to still another + deck into the very bowels of the ship. This descent brought + them to a long gallery that was formed by a bulkhead running + down the center of the ship. As they entered this passage, + three workmen came out of a small steel door that opened into + this central wall. One of the workmen carefully rebolted the + door, yawned sleepily and followed his comrades toward the + companionway. As he passed he grunted something to Caradoc. + Madden's heart beat faster lest they should be discovered at + this last hour. He had no idea what mission moved the + Englishman, but he sensed that here was his destination. + Smith made some reply in German, moved briskly ahead until he + came to the small steel door. He laid his hand familiarly + upon the bolts, shot them back, swung open the door. One of + the men whirled about and stared back at this assured + intruder. Smith stood aside and with a curt military gesture + motioned Madden to enter. The American drew an uncertain + breath, glanced at the three Germans out of the tail of his + eye and stepped into the dark square. Caradoc followed him. + The laborers went on updeck apparently satisfied. + </p> + <p> + An electric wire was let in through the door. Caradoc reached + for it, followed it with his hand and presently turned a + switch. Next moment a bright flood of light bathed the + tubular chamber in which they stood. + </p> + <p> + Madden glanced about. He stood in a room whose roof formed a + half circle over his head. The place seemed as full of + machinery as a watch case. Fore and aft were circular + partitions of steel, like drumheads. These were penetrated + with sliding shutters, which stood open. Through the after + shutter, Madden saw a large Deisel oil engine, flanked by a + compact heavy dynamo. Looking forward, he could see steel + cylinders trimmed in shining brass, and a maze of levers, + gauges, dials, valves. + </p> + <p> + The central compartment in which the two stood was dominated + by a little spiral stairway leading up into a steel dome. On + a shelf set in the bulkhead was a chart, a telephone + receiver, speaking tubes, dials with red and black hands, an + array of electrometers, pressure gauges. + </p> + <p> + Glancing up the stairway into the little dome, Madden saw a + pilot wheel, more levers and speaking tubes and telephone + receivers, and a square of ground glass, that was lined off + with delicate cross-lines. + </p> + <p> + "Where are we?" asked Madden, amazed. "What do they do here? + I never saw so much machinery before in so small a space." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc was stooping over a heavy metal box down at the floor + level at the side of the desk. It was one of a series of such + boxes. "We're inside of that submarine you saw enter a few + hours ago," explained the Englishman shortly. + </p> + <p> + Leonard stared around with new eyes. "So this is a submarine! + Do you know anything about them? What's that spirit level + for?" He pointed at a horizontal gauge. + </p> + <p> + "Measures air pressure—it's not a level." + </p> + <p> + "What's in these steel tanks overhead?" + </p> + <p> + "Compressed air." + </p> + <p> + "What's that you are getting into?" Here Caradoc lifted the + lid, and Madden got a view. "Say, that's a torpedo, isn't + it?" he asked quickly as he saw a long needle-pointed steel + cigar with propeller and rudder on the aft end. + </p> + <p> + The Englishman made no reply. He leaned over and selected a + small steel crowbar from a tool locker, drew it out with a + quick nervous movement. + </p> + <p> + "Say!" cried Madden catching the strange expression on the + face of his friend, "are you going to try to launch this and + escape on it—escape on a torpedo?" + </p> + <p> + A mirthless smile flickered over the Englishman's gray face. + "Nothing so fanciful." + </p> + <p> + A sixteen foot torpedo lay in a steel frame on a runway, just + ready to slide forward into the big expulsion tube that was + the salient feature of the forward compartment. Caradoc + walked quickly to the nose of the terrific missile. He looked + at his friend and said in a strange voice: "Madden, I'm going + to wipe this German ship-trap off the map!" + </p> + <p> + A sort of spasm clutched the American's diaphragm. "You don't + mean——" he managed to gasp. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, this is for——" He swung up his crowbar. + </p> + <p> + Madden on the other side the gasoline-scented chamber had a + sensation as if someone had jabbed keen needles into his + throat, breast, stomach. + </p> + <p> + "Caradoc! Don't! Don't!" he screamed and leaped toward the + desperate man. + </p> + <p> + It was all done at once. + </p> + <p> + "For England!" completed Caradoc Smith, and fetched down a + furious doubled-handed blow on the primer of the big steel + chamber packed with guncotton. + </p> + <p> + The crowbar landed with a crash! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH17"><!-- CH17 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <center> + THE GET-AWAY + </center> + <p> + Both lads leaned against the machinery, limp, dripping cold + perspiration. Caradoc was the first to speak. + </p> + <p> + "Didn't have its war head in!" + </p> + <p> + Leonard mumbled something through the slime in his mouth. + </p> + <p> + "I ought to find the connection and explode it," repeated + Caradoc doggedly. + </p> + <p> + Madden moved weakly over beside him. "No you won't. You + aren't going to murder us all... not going to do it!" + </p> + <p> + Caradoc remained motionless, his long face gray under the + electric lights. "I fail—at everything," he mumbled. + </p> + <p> + Leonard sat down on the edge of the torpedo case and looked + at the long, slender destroyer. He had a watery feeling, as + if just arising from a long illness. + </p> + <p> + "Let's get out of here," he breathed. + </p> + <p> + "Wait... we must seem normal. You—you look + blue—spotted." + </p> + <p> + "I feel blue and spotted. I was scared—never was so + scared in all my life." + </p> + <p> + "Sit here till you get over your j-jolt." + </p> + <p> + "What are you going to do?" asked the American apprehensively + as Smith arose. + </p> + <p> + "I must disable this machinery and give the tug a chance to + escape." + </p> + <p> + "Still got that in your head?" + </p> + <p> + "I must do <i>something</i>—I ought to explode that + torpedo!" + </p> + <p> + "You're not going to do that, Caradoc. You're not! I have + no—no appetite to be a martyr." + </p> + <p> + The Englishman made no reply, but began moving around among + the machinery with the crowbar. Leonard stirred himself to + follow. + </p> + <p> + "You—you're not up to anything—not going to blow + us up?" + </p> + <p> + "No, I'm not going to blow you up. That's my word." + </p> + <p> + Oddly enough, Madden accepted it very simply, and went back + and sat on the torpedo case. He fell to stroking the smooth + steel flank of the thing as if it were some animal. The thing + had, as it were, refused to blow him to bits at Smith's + request. + </p> + <p> + The Englishman walked about busily, thrusting his bar in + among dial connections, snapping brass pipes, wrecking the + telephone connections. He laid about him viciously, knocking, + crashing, smashing. Then he hurried back into the rear + compartment, knocked to pieces the bearings and valves of the + Deisel engine, tangled up the wiring of the storage batteries + and the dynamo, beat off her brushes, disrupted the clutch on + the crank shaft. + </p> + <p> + It was shocking to Madden to see Caradoc smash and destroy + such delicate and costly machinery. He went about his task + with a kind of bottled ferocity, and in a short time the + submarine looked as if it had let loose a cyclone. Presently + the youth paused in his vandalism and glanced about with + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + "All right," he said in a more normal tone, "if you are ready + to go, get a wrench and a cold-chisel, smudge your face with + a little oil and iron black, and we'll get away from here." + </p> + <p> + Madden saw the importance of completing his disguise in this + manner. He splotched his face, found the tools indicated by + Smith in the locker, then walked out through the manhole into + the passageway once more. + </p> + <p> + There was no one in sight as they came out. They passed up + through the cool refrigerating room and through the machine + shop with its contented workmen. Madden wondered how those + men would feel if they knew that a few minutes past, they + were hanging on the fringe of eternity. + </p> + <p> + The two smudged tool-bearers, who walked rather shakily to + the upper deck, did not even provoke a questioning glance + from the workmen. A few minutes later the boys emerged once + more from the sleeping deck onto the boat deck. It was still + deserted save for the solitary guard who paced back and forth + in stiff military fashion. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc moved down to the hanging laundry and paused under + the port hood. He tapped it gently. From the interior came + Malone's thick whisper. Smith passed in the tools and + whispered. + </p> + <p> + "Force the door open gently. Walk out as if you were sailors. + Close the door and pretend to lock it. Meet me out here at + the head of the ship's ladder, where the guard is stationed." + </p> + <p> + "Very well, sir," came a whisper. + </p> + <p> + Then Madden and Smith strolled on down toward the man with + the gun. As they walked, Smith whispered: + </p> + <p> + "When you hear me clear my throat, get within striking + distance. When I cough, silence him. I'll help you." + </p> + <p> + Madden nodded slightly, and the two drew near the pacing + guard. Caradoc lifted hand to forehead as they passed and a + little later seated themselves on the rail near the ladder. + Madden looked down curiously and thought he could make out + the shape of the dinghy below, but was not certain. + </p> + <p> + The American's nerves still tingled from the torpedo + incident, and now he glanced out of the tail of his eye at + the guard, whom he would probably have to fight. + </p> + <p> + The fellow was a broad-chested, short-necked German, armed + with rifle and bayonet. The bayonet had a bluish gleam under + the incandescent. + </p> + <p> + It was a queer thought to Madden to know that within the next + fifteen minutes, he would perhaps be under rifle fire, rowing + or swimming away through the black night, or he might be + dead. Dead, and the world would end for him, and the war of + the world or the peace of the world would be all the same for + him. + </p> + <p> + Madden shrugged his shoulders, drew a long breath and stared + out in the direction of the <i>Vulcan</i>. He could see + nothing of the tug. The moon had sunk and the stars burned + with a more vivid fire. The musing boy noted the position of + the Hydra, and fancied it might be somewhere near midnight. + Just then his guess was confirmed by four double strokes of + the bell. There would be a change of guards. Perhaps the next + man would not be so unsuspecting. + </p> + <p> + Just then Madden observed another deck gang coming up the + promenade. He wondered how often they scrubbed deck on this + vessel. He hoped this crew would soon pass, as it would make + escape impossible if their men made a break while the + sweepers were in hearing. Their slow approach made him + nervous. Suppose one of them suspected something wrong? + </p> + <p> + Just then Caradoc yawned and cleared his throat. Madden + looked around at his friend with a slight start. The + Englishman did not see the approaching sailors. Madden + frowned conspicuously, but Smith's long face was placid, and + he cleared his throat again. + </p> + <p> + The guard was now about to pass Madden. The American shifted + his legs slightly for a position to jump, nevertheless + frowning warningly at Caradoc. The scrubbers were fairly + close now. Caradoc arose negligently and coughed. + </p> + <p> + In the teeth of the scrub gang, Madden leaped headlong at the + guard and his fingers gripped the man's throat. At the same + instant, Caradoc ducked under his legs. As the foremost of + the scrub gang wrenched the rifle from the guard's hands, + Madden saw with joy that they were Malone and his men. The + three fell with a dull thumping on the deck. The guard tore + at Madden's fingers which crushed in his throat. From + underneath, Caradoc panted in sharp whispers: + </p> + <p> + "Overboard! Down the ladder! Quick!" + </p> + <p> + As he snapped out his orders, the Englishman was working his + hold up past the floundering guard's waist. Madden's grip was + about to break under the strain the Teuton put on it, but his + fingers clung desperately to the fellow's throat, for one + shout would bring a hornet's nest around the fugitives. Just + then Malone whispered hoarsely: + </p> + <p> + "They're all overboard, sir." + </p> + <p> + Leonard caught the soft stir of oars in the water below. + </p> + <p> + "Shall Hi stick 'im, sir?" whispered Malone, grabbing the + guard's bayoneted rifle. "Yonder, comes the new guard!" + </p> + <p> + Caradoc, who had been willing to blow up a whole shipful of + men, panted out a sharp "No!" Just then the Englishman's long + fingers slipped up on the tendons that ran down the guard's + neck from his ears. He pinched them sharply. The struggling + man suddenly gasped and lay still. Caradoc leaped to his + feet. Madden scrambled up. Both were dripping with sweat. A + man with a rifle was running down the deck toward them. The + fellow raised his rifle. + </p> + <p> + "Overboard!" gasped Caradoc and took a sudden leap over the + rail into the night. Madden followed, trusting not to hit the + dinghy and kill himself. Malone was already scrambling down + the rope ladder as fast as he could go. + </p> + <p> + While a dive of one or two hundred feet is not uncommon, + still Madden's thirty-five foot drop sent chill tickly + sensations through his chest and throat. It seemed as if he + would never stop falling through the darkness, but at last he + struck the water and went down, down, down. + </p> + <p> + When he finally kicked himself back to the surface and thrust + his head out, he heard a violent whispering among the excited + boatmen. A moment later an oar struck him under the armpit. + Madden seized it, whispered his own name and scuttled in over + the gunwale. The men were shoving desperately at the ship's + side in an effort to get the dinghy under way. + </p> + <p> + From the deck overhead came guttural shouts in German and + fainter answers. Fortunately the guard did not take upon + himself the responsibility of shooting down into the boat, + and in a minute or two the refugees had assembled the oars + and were rowing furiously from the mother ship. + </p> + <p> + In the dim zone of light that belted the promenade, Madden + could see a number of hurrying figures. Then came a sharp + command, and a rifle stabbed the darkness with a knife of + fire and a keen report. + </p> + <p> + Immediately came another, then another, then several. Bullets + chucked viciously into the water about the dinghy. + </p> + <p> + Under the straining arms of four oarsmen the little boat + moved briskly out of its perilous position. Jammed between + two sailors, the boy sat staring back at the men gathering on + the promenade. The flashing of many rifles kept a constant + streak of light along a considerable section of the deck. + Bullets seemed to whine within an inch of his ears. The + dinghy appeared to be retreating at a snail's pace, and the + frightened boy gripped furiously at the gunwale in an absurd + effort to speed it up. He twisted about, trying to keep his + shoulders in a line with the flashing rifles so as to offer + the thinnest target. A man in the stern of the dinghy + groaned, and slumped down into the bottom. + </p> + <p> + Just then a searchlight leaped into play from the top deck of + the ship. Its long ray shot out in a trembling cone through + the darkness. It switched here and there with appalling + swiftness. The crew in the little boat stared at it, holding + their breaths. When that leaping ray fell on the dinghy it + would be followed by a rain of steel. + </p> + <p> + The firing on the promenade deck ceased, Waiting for the + searchlight to direct their aim. Just then the beam fell on + the <i>Vulcan</i> with dazzling brilliance. The tug stood out + sharply against the night, and she proved to be much closer + than Leonard had fancied. The little rowboat had been + traveling faster than he thought. + </p> + <p> + Then the brilliant circle left the tug and, began crawling + carefully over the water toward the dinghy. + </p> + <p> + The crew stared at the approaching light as stricken birds in + a snake's cage. Just then Caradoc said in a low tone. "Let + every man slide into the water and swim for the + <i>Vulcan</i>." + </p> + <p> + The men in the stern slipped into the sea first with muffled + splashes. The men amidship climbed over the side and went in + headfirst. The oarsmen shipped their oars and took the water. + Madden made a long dive over the side and shot well away from + the little boat. When he came up, he looked around. The + fringe of light was just playing on the bow when Caradoc + leaped. According to English traditions, he was the last man + to leave his vessel, even though it were only a dinghy. + </p> + <p> + An instant later, a queer metallic ripping sound broke out in + the mother ship. Madden looked back quickly. From the top + deck there was a jet of fire, as if someone were turning a + hose of flame in the direction of the small boat. Leonard + looked back at the dinghy. It appeared as if the ray of light + were beating the little vessel into splinters. It seemed to + crumble into itself, to wither, to go to dust, and the water + beneath it beat up in a froth through its shattered hull. + </p> + <p> + A head bobbed up near Madden, and Caradoc's voice observed + collectedly. + </p> + <p> + "They're chewing it up with a machine gun. You'd better dive + again—travel most of the way to the tug under water. + They'll be picking us up, one at a time, in a moment, with + the same stream of steel." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH18"><!-- CH18 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <center> + NERVE VERSUS GUNPOWDER + </center> + <p> + Fifteen minutes later a dozen men were kicking exhaustedly in + the water on the port side of the <i>Vulcan</i>, shouting in + urgent voices for ropes. A few were already clambering up the + bobstays. There was no reply from the utterly terrorized men + on the tug, then came the whiz of missiles thrown through the + air. + </p> + <p> + "Hogan! Mulcher! Galton! Ropes! Give us your ladder!" bawled + Madden at the top of his authority. + </p> + <p> + "Is—is that you, Misther Madden?" chattered Hogan. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, yes, ropes, before we drown!" + </p> + <p> + "Was that you shootin' at us over there?" + </p> + <p> + "They were shooting at <i>us</i>! They hit two or three of + us! Hurry!" + </p> + <p> + "And who's all that wid ye? Faith, the wather's alive wid + min!" + </p> + <p> + "We're the crew of th' <i>Vukan</i>!" "Throw down ropes!" + "Shut up and throw down ropes, ye bloody Irishman!" howled an + angry chorus. + </p> + <p> + "Th' crew o' th' <i>Vulcan</i>, and thim all dead, these + weeks ago! Sure if it's a lot o' ghosts——" + </p> + <p> + But others of the crew summoned enough courage to fling down + aid to their old comrades, and soon the men came crawling up + the dark sides of the tug and dropped limply inboard. + </p> + <p> + The utmost excitement played over the crew of the dock when + they identified the former crew of the <i>Vulcan</i>. The air + was full of excited questions and tired answers, but + presently the word got out. It was "War." The news passed + from mouth to mouth and grew in portentousness. War! Nations + were at war! These men had escaped from a German warship! + </p> + <p> + It was unbelievable. It was stunning. Presently Caradoc + shouted out in the darkness for Malone, Mate Malone. The + cockney answered. + </p> + <p> + "Put your firemen at the furnace! Set your engineers to work + on the engines. We must have steam up and be away in an + hour!" + </p> + <p> + The two crews fell into silence, and Malone ordered his men + below. Some of the dock's crew hurried off with the others to + cut down coal in the bunkers. Another gang fell to work; + pulling in the sea anchor. But over all their various + activities hovered the vast consternation of war. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc had climbed to the bridge of the <i>Vulcan</i> and + stood staring silently at the bulk of the mother ship that + was barely discernible through the night. The searchlight had + been switched off. Neither ship showed a signal. From below + came the muffled sounds of men working at the furnace, and in + five or ten minutes a film of smoke trickled out of the + <i>Vulcan's</i> great funnel. + </p> + <p> + Madden climbed up on the bridge beside Caradoc. + </p> + <p> + "How long before the submarine will be out?" he asked in a + low tone. + </p> + <p> + "Small boats will come first," replied Smith. "That's why + they shunted off the searchlight—to surprise us." + </p> + <p> + "Will they try to board us?" + </p> + <p> + "Certainly. We'll have to defend ourselves with anything we + can pick up, sticks, knives, hand spikes—" + </p> + <p> + At that moment Malone appeared from the other end of the + bridge. + </p> + <p> + "We'll have steam up in an hour," he announced, glancing up + at the funnel. + </p> + <p> + "An hour?" thought Madden. "That's time enough for us all to + be killed." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc said to the mate: "Go forward and tell the men to arm + themselves, then take position along the rail to repel + boarders. Tell them to look sharp for grappling hooks and + throw them down." + </p> + <p> + "And what will they arm with, sir?" + </p> + <p> + "Use anything you can find, hand spikes, knives, sticks. They + might throw lumps of coal. A cricket player ought to give a + good account with a lump of coal." + </p> + <p> + "Very well, sir," grunted Malone and he hurried down on deck. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later the men were scurrying around to their + positions. One or two men had gone down for a sack of coal, a + queer ammunition that might possibly effect something. On the + other hand, Leonard knew the attacking force would come armed + with mausers, rapid fire guns, grappling hooks, swords. A + onesided fight was brewing. + </p> + <p> + The American looked anxiously at the funnel; a ribbon of + black smoke filtered out into the air. + </p> + <p> + "Madden," said Caradoc, "they will make the hardest fight + around the anchor ports and amidships. Which position do you + prefer to defend?" + </p> + <p> + "I believe I'll take the forecastle." + </p> + <p> + "Good, I wish you luck." + </p> + <p> + "Same to you." + </p> + <p> + As Madden moved down the ladder to the deck, he heard, above + the murmur of the busy men, the strong measured beat of a + ship's cutter approaching the tug with deliberate swiftness. + </p> + <p> + There were some good men stationed to defend the forecastle, + Hogan, Mulcher, Greer and two or three of the <i>Vulcan's</i> + former crew whom Madden did not know. As the American + approached in the gloom, two men came up, laden with sacks, + and poured out a pile of coal on deck. Every lump was about + the size of a baseball. + </p> + <p> + Hogan recognized Madden in the darkness. He was exuberant now + that he had learned his enemies were human beings and not + ghouls. + </p> + <p> + "Do ye think those Dutchmen will be able to put up a daycent + foight, Misther Madden?" he inquired hopefully. + </p> + <p> + "They have plenty of arms, Hogan." + </p> + <p> + "Sure, that'll hilp 'em some. But Oi'm going to knock th' + head off the spalpeen that firrust sticks his mug over that + rail." + </p> + <p> + "Your chance is coming," said Madden soberly, as he listened + to the increasing noise of the oars. + </p> + <p> + "Now, men," directed the American, "lie flat down behind the + rail and use your sticks and hand pikes to prize off + grapnels. They will shoot your hands." + </p> + <p> + "Very well, sor," breathed several voices. + </p> + <p> + The noise of the oars grew louder until it sounded + immediately beneath the defenders. Hogan stood up suddenly, + leaned over the rail with a lump of coal in each hand, and + threw down viciously. There was a whack as one lump hit the + boat, and a grunt as the other struck some man. In return + came a terrific crash of rifles, and bullets spattered the + iron plates of the <i>Vulcan</i>. Fortunately Hogan had + flopped down on deck in time. + </p> + <p> + At that instant, the searchlight of the mother ship swept the + <i>Vulcan's</i> deck with startling brilliance. The first + volley had perhaps been the signal, and the fight was on. + </p> + <p> + There came a clanging of grapnels on the rail over the + crouching defenders. Madden flung down the one nearest him, + but others came flying through the air to take its place. The + prostrate men worked busily dislodging the flukes. The + fusillade from below prevented their getting on their knees, + and they were forced to lie on their backs as they worked at + the hooks. It seemed some sort of queer game: the attackers + flinging up scaling irons, the defenders flipping them down. + Madden had dislodged two or three, when Mulcher cried out for + help. + </p> + <p> + The enemy had succeeded in catching a fluke on the rail, and + putting so much weight on it that the cockney could not prize + it off. Immediately Hogan and another defender crawled to + Mulcher's aid like big lizards. They thrust in sticks and + spikes and prized vigorously, while the bullets were drumming + on the plates outside. + </p> + <p> + It stuck and Leonard started to their aid, when a hook in his + own territory demanded his attention. Just then a head came + up over the rail just above Hogan and Mulcher. The German had + turned his automatic on the defenders when Hogan's shillalah + caught him on the temple. He reeled backwards, his pistol + spitting into the air. He knocked down the whole line of men + below him amid crashings, shoutings and splashings in the + water below. The moment the weight was off, Mulcher loosed + the grapnel and flung it down into the confusion. + </p> + <p> + The hail of bullets was immediately renewed, and more hooks + came flying over. The iron rails rang like a boiler shop, and + the steel missiles glanced off whining like enormous + mosquitoes. Madden whirled his head for a glance aft. + </p> + <p> + The same sort of drama was taking place amidship, boarders + were climbing over the rail and arms, sticks, and iron spikes + snapped out of the inky shadows and smote them. The invaders + fired blindly into the darkness that rimmed the deck. As to + whether they were killing or maiming Caradoc's crew, Madden + could not tell. + </p> + <p> + One thing, however, he did observe, that aroused an anxious + hope in the boy's heart. A heavy column of smoke ascended + from the tug's funnel, and a tongue of steam played in its + edge. + </p> + <p> + A frenzy of impatience seized Madden. If the <i>Vulcan</i> + could only get under way and escape the fight! Why didn't + they start at once! In the vivid light, he saw the steering + wheel turning, apparently of its own accord, and he knew that + someone was manipulating the hand grips from the bottom side. + </p> + <p> + From those slight signs of preparation, Madden's attention + was suddenly whipped back to his business, by the sight of + two figures climbing on over the prow of the <i>Vulcan</i>. + These men had no doubt caught a hook in the anchor port and + had climbed up without opposition. + </p> + <p> + The invaders stood clearly limned by the searchlight, trying + to pick out a target for their fire, when Madden reached for + the coal pile. The American had once been pitcher for his + college team, and the lump of coal crashed under the first + man's jaw and he dropped backwards as if hit by a piece of + shrapnel. The second gunman banged at the shadow where Madden + was hid. The bullets sang about the American's ears, when + Deschaillon's ostrich-like kick flashed through the light and + caught the sailor in the pit of the stomach. The automatic + dropped from his hand, and he crimped up like a stuck + grubworm. + </p> + <p> + But while the defenders were occupied with this little flank + attack, half a dozen hooks were firmly lodged on the rail, + and at least eight men were mounting swiftly. At their head + came an officer waving a sword. The firing from below + suddenly ceased, lest they hit their own men. In the silence + that followed, Madden heard the hiss of rising steam, and + from somewhere the tinkle of a bell. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly out of the shadows, the whole force of the defenders + leaped at the Germans and attacked them as they strode over + the rail. There was a clattering of revolvers, a thwacking of + sticks and iron pins, and the smashing of thrown coal. + </p> + <p> + Then the combatants grappled hand to hand on the rail of the + tug, swinging eerily in and out like wrestlers, a strange + sight in the beating searchlight. + </p> + <p> + Madden closed with the officer, and by good fortune caught + his right wrist, so the fellow could not shorten his sword + and stab him. The American kept trying to twist the German's + arm and make him drop his blade, but the fellow had thrust + his left hand under Madden's arm pit and reached up and + caught him about the forehead. The result was a back half + nelson, and put Madden's neck under a terrific strain. + </p> + <p> + In return he choked his adversary, but Madden's mastoid + muscles slowly gave way before the German's punishing hold. + His head bent back, while he clung desperately to the sword + hand and crushed in the fellow's gullet. There was a roaring + in Madden's ears that was not from the fighting men. His neck + and back slowly curved backward under the strain. Had it not + been for the menace of the sword, he could have wriggled out + with a wrestler's shift, but if he loosed the right hand... + Madden wondered if he could fall backwards and still maintain + his hold on the sword. If he could ever get down without + being stunned by his fall, his strangle hold would give him + an immediate advantage. He swung backwards, but the fellow + did not go with him, but began a furious struggle to loose + his weapon. Madden clung grimly. His whole body dripped with + sweat, as he held away the sword and tried to choke the fat + neck of his antagonist. He shoved the fellow's throat with + all his power, trying to break the nelson, but the pressure + jammed his own head back till a hot pain streaked through the + base of his skull. + </p> + <p> + At that moment a tremor ran through the tug, and there came a + chough-choughing in her stack. Immediately followed a great + shouting and a frantic pelting of grapnels from the sea + below. Madden knew that the <i>Vulcan</i> had at last got + under steam, and would probably escape. This came to him + dimly as his left hand, which had been struggling to fend off + the sword, gradually lost its grip on the German's sweaty + slippery wrist. + </p> + <p> + Along up and down the rail, he knew that the men battled with + varying results. Came dimly to his roaring ears shouts, + groans and blows. In another minute the sword would split his + ribs. + </p> + <p> + A breeze sprang up. The <i>Vulcan</i> was gathering headway. + </p> + <p> + He was bracing his last efforts against the force that was + bending him double, when a long-legged figure rushed from + amidship, seized the swordsman around the waist, and with a + mighty heave, flung the fellow upward and outward into the + sea, falling end over end—a grotesque gyrating figure + in the searchlight, still waving his sword. + </p> + <p> + "Down! Down! Everybody!" yelled Caradoc, as he waded up the + rail, overthrowing the last of the boarders. + </p> + <p> + Madden and the defenders fell prone on the deck, and it was + not too soon. The moment the boarding party was definitely + repulsed, there broke out a crashing volley from the long + boat, and their bullets played a ringing tattoo over the + ironwork. Then the tug drew steadily away from their + assailants. + </p> + <p> + The searchlight played over the steamer for several minutes + in order to afford a target for the small boats, but the crew + lay close, only trusting an eye over the sheer strake now and + then for a glimpse of the enemy. Up on the bridge, Leonard + could see the steering wheel still turning of its own accord + this way and that as the <i>Vulcan</i> gathered speed. + </p> + <p> + Presently the searchlight was switched off, leaving the deck + in utter darkness. The cutters had given up the chase. + Leonard sat up on deck and wriggled his sore neck this way + and that. He could see nothing now save the stream of sparks + that leaped out of the funnel and flowed aft into the black + sea. + </p> + <p> + "Men!" cried Caradoc's voice, "is anyone hurt?" + </p> + <p> + "A few of us 'ave 'oles punched in us, sor!" came a reply. + </p> + <p> + "All the wounded will report to Captain Black in the main + cabin!" called Smith. + </p> + <p> + There was a shuffling of feet on deck, as the men passed aft + through the darkness. + </p> + <p> + At that moment, out of the mother ship there flared another + bright light that wavered about the horizon for a moment and + finally settled on the <i>Vulcan</i>. The wounded men dodged + below the rail again, but no bullets came. + </p> + <p> + This light was not stationary. It crept down through the inky + sea toward the fugitives and grew larger and brighter in + their eyes. + </p> + <p> + "W'ot is that?" cried several apprehensive voices. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc stood erect by the rail, watching this new + development. + </p> + <p> + "Malone," he called to the man hidden on the bridge, "what + speed can this boat make?" + </p> + <p> + "Hi've got as 'igh as eighteen knots out of 'er, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Signal 'full speed ahead' and call down to the firemen for + all the steam we can carry." + </p> + <p> + "Very well, sir." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc looked at the light for a minute or two longer and + then remarked to Madden. + </p> + <p> + "They couldn't have repaired that submarine for several hours + longer. They must have had two." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH19"><!-- CH19 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <center> + CHASED BY A SUBMARINE + </center> + <p> + Wheezing, coughing, shaking in every plate, vomiting into the + sky a trail of smoke that extended clear to the eastern + horizon, the <i>Vulcan</i> shouldered her way at top speed + across the mazy lanes of the Sargasso. The tug had come a + queer crooked path across that sea, and the lay of her smoke + trail down the pearly glow of dawn still marked her tortuous + course. + </p> + <p> + Not a breath of air stirred, but the speed of the vessel sent + a breeze whipping over the poop of the steamer where a group + of battered men stared fixedly over the long frothing path of + the screw. Several of the group wore bandages, two, unable to + stand, sat in steamer chairs, all had the pale faces of + all-night watchers, but every eye in the crowd scanned with + feverish intensity the spangled ocean over which they fled. + </p> + <p> + The wind snatched at the clothes and bandages of the intent + men. Masses of seaweed swept like gray blurs down the sheer + of the tug's wake. Just beneath them the propeller rushed + with watery thunder. + </p> + <p> + "Yonder she rises!" cried one of the watchers, pointing at + two wireless masts that rose like the fins of a racing shark + above the green surface of the Sargasso. + </p> + <p> + "Yonder she rises!" repeated a voice amidship, and more + faintly still came the repetition from the bridge, "Yonder + she rises—hard a-port!" + </p> + <p> + A sudden shift of the rudder shook the <i>Vulcan</i> from + peak to keelson. Next moment the tug was speeding squarely + across a seaweed field, and another crook was added to the + smoke mark in the sky. The <i>Vulcan's</i> blunt prow drove + through the seaweed at a great rate, while the clammy mass + swung back together not sixty yards behind the churning + screw. + </p> + <p> + A strange race had developed between the tug and submarine. + When both crafts were on the surface in open water, the + submarine had a knot or two advantage of the <i>Vulcan</i> + and could have picked her up in four or five hours. But early + in the night Caradoc had discovered that the powerful screw + of the steamer, designed, as it was, to propel vast loads, + could make the higher speed across the algae beds. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, if the submarine dived to escape the drag + of the weed, she again became the faster craft. But, in this + instance, when the submarine dived, the <i>Vulcan</i> would + immediately take to the open lanes and do more than preserve + her distance. These constant shifts and turns explained the + ricocheting course that was marked in smoke across the + whitening dawn. + </p> + <p> + The submarine stood well out of water and skimmed along in + the pink gleam like a long, slender missile. Its flat deck, + wireless masts and conning tower stood etched in black + against the morning light. She was consuming a fairish + stretch of open water at a high speed. + </p> + <p> + "She's game for a long chase," observed Hogan, gently + shifting a wounded arm in its sling. + </p> + <p> + Leonard Madden replied without removing his eyes from the + rushing boat, "She has to be. All of Germany's naval plans + depend on her destroying us." + </p> + <p> + "It does—and, faith, may Oi ask why?" + </p> + <p> + "If we get to Antigua and report this to the British + admiralty, how long would this Sargasso reshipping + arrangement last?" + </p> + <p> + "Right you are there, Misther Madden," agreed Hogan at once. + "We'd woipe 'em out, wouldn't we? We'll make it, too. If we + stood off th' little didapper all night, you know we can all + day." + </p> + <p> + Madden considered the fleet little vessel. "No, I rather + think she will capture us." + </p> + <p> + "And how's that?" + </p> + <p> + "The Sargasso doesn't extend indefinitely. In fact we are + nearing the southern limit. Have you taken a look forward?" + </p> + <p> + "No, I haven't," said Hogan, taking vague alarm at Madden's + tone. "What's wrong?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't see many more big seaweed fields ahead. If she gets + us in open water——" + </p> + <p> + "Why bad luck to it! Bad luck to it, Oi say!" cried Hogan as + the wind whistled about him; "running us out o' the bushes + loike a swamp rabbit." + </p> + <p> + Just then the submarine veered off her straight course + somewhat to extend her open water run for two or three miles + up the edge of the field. A length view showed her to be a + delicate looking craft. Her sharp prow cut the water with + hardly a ripple, in sharp contrast to the <i>Vulcan</i>, + which shouldered up a waterfall as she lunged forward. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, and rather unexpectedly, the submarine porpoised. + There was a swash of foam, and she was gone. + </p> + <p> + The men on the poop stepped around to the side of the tug and + stared anxiously southward. Bits of flotsam mottled the blue + expanse, but it really appeared as if the saving drift weed + were thinning to nothing. Hogan glanced back over the way he + had come. + </p> + <p> + "Sure it'll be a fair field and no favor, sweet Peggy + O'Neal!" he hummed nonchalantly under his breath. + </p> + <p> + At that moment a violent shaking went over the <i>Vulcan</i>, + and the short boat swung her prow about with tug-like + promptness. It was as if the stout little craft had swung + around on her heel. + </p> + <p> + "Faith and would ye shake a man's arrum off!" shouted Hogan + at nobody in particular. "And are ye going back to meet the + friendly little wasp?" + </p> + <p> + That was exactly what Caradoc was doing. He had swung the + <i>Vulcan</i> about in less than a hundred yard circle and + was plowing straight back the way they had come. + </p> + <p> + The crowd on the poop held their breath at the daring + maneuver. Tug and submarine were now rushing at each other + full tilt, only one ran under water, the other on the + surface. Suppose the submarine should thrust up a periscope + for an instant—a cough of the torpedo tube and the + <i>Vulcan</i> would be blown to scrap iron. + </p> + <p> + The men on the poop ran forward, staring with frightened eyes + over the gray-green soggy field through which the + <i>Vulcan</i> ripped her way. + </p> + <p> + It seemed fantastic to think that somewhere under that + lifeless weed human beings spun swiftly along, freighted with + the most terrific engine of destruction. What strange + warfare! Who could have fancied that when savages began to + use clubs to maul each other it would end in this diabolical + refinement! Weapons, weapons, weapons—the history of + man's undying savagery working under new forms of + civilization! The war submarine—what a monstrous + offspring of genius! + </p> + <p> + The sun rose like a white-hot ball in the brazen sky and the + men held to the rails, mouths open, and stared ahead into the + safe open water, expecting every moment for the <i>Vulcan</i> + to spatter skyward in a volcano of fire and steel. + </p> + <p> + The boat itself rattled along with that insensibility of + mechanism that sometimes astounds an apprehensive man. Twenty + minutes later, she turned into the open lane, and was rushing + westward again at full steam. + </p> + <p> + An immense relief spread over the crew. Galton, who stood on + the bridge at the wheel beside Caradoc, blew out a long + breath and wiped the sweat from his face, Farnol Greer began + a windy whistling of "Winona, Sweet Indian Maid." Madden felt + as if a weight had been lifted off his brain. Hogan was + humming a tune. But all eyes turned anxiously seaward, to see + where the submarine would "blow." + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later, a distant ripple in the water caught their + watchful eyes and the wireless masts popped up, on the + opposite side of the great weed field, four or five miles + distant. + </p> + <p> + A spontaneous cheering broke out on the <i>Vulcan's</i> + decks. + </p> + <p> + "Double crossed! Double crossed!" bellowed Hogan. + </p> + <p> + "Back track! We put one over! Hurrah for Cap'n Smith!" they + shouted above the pounding of the engines. + </p> + <p> + Everyone but Caradoc wore the fixed exultant grin of the man + who outwits his rival. The submarine had been thoroughly + outgeneraled. North and west of the <i>Vulcan</i> lay the + whole Sargasso for an endless chase. The diving boat had lost + the great advantage of having the steamer cornered. + </p> + <p> + As the crew whistled and sang the <i>Vulcan</i> kicked a + frothy course down the long westward lane. To every one's + surprise, the submarine did not dive immediately, but + straightened herself on the other side of the seaweed field + on a course parallel with her quarry. + </p> + <p> + Madden climbed up on the bridge and found a pair of + binoculars in the chart room. He took these outside and + trained them on the little vessel. Apparently the submarine + intended to remain at the surface for some time, for she had + opened her hatches and an officer had come out on the slender + deck, and stood looking at the <i>Vulcan</i> through a + telescope. + </p> + <p> + At the distance, Madden could see the fellow plainly, and + even the inky shadow he threw on the deck. The officer + perused the tug for several minutes, then allowed his glass + to wander around the horizon. + </p> + <p> + "They've come up for air," observed Caradoc, who had + approached his friend from behind. "I believe we'd best stop + that. Good air is a luxury with those fellows." He turned to + Galton, who was steering. "Swing her into the northwest, my + man." + </p> + <p> + The tug answered to her helm with a quiver, and in twenty + minutes more was nosing her way again through the ooze of + weed. The German officer calmly completed his survey, folded + his telescope, then disappeared down the hatch. A few minutes + later the submarine dived and the ocean lay empty in the + burning sunshine. + </p> + <p> + From below came the clanging of Gaskin's gong announcing + dinner. It was odd how the little details of life went calmly + on even when life itself was threatened with extinction. As + Madden went below to his meal, he met Malone who came from + below, looking as black as an Ethiopian. The mate had been + directing the firing in this extreme necessity. + </p> + <p> + The two fell in together as they walked to the wash room. + </p> + <p> + "I daresay those fellows wish they had sunk the <i>Vulcan</i> + when they had her," observed the American. + </p> + <p> + "They needed 'er theirselves," explained the mate in a + matter-of-fact way. "Those German cruisers 'ave captured a + whole flotilla of prizes lately, and they needed th' tug to + 'andle 'em for 'em." + </p> + <p> + "And they didn't need the <i>Minnie B</i>?" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, no, not at all." + </p> + <p> + "Why didn't they sink her at once?" + </p> + <p> + "Her cap'n told me she carried more copper than one submarine + could reship, so they 'ad to wait for another, as they didn't + want to throw no copper away." + </p> + <p> + Madden nodded. "It was the second submarine I saw on the + night she foundered." He began smiling when he thought what a + bewildering mystery the vessel had been, and how very simple + was the explanation. + </p> + <p> + By this time Caradoc had joined the two men, hoping to snatch + a sandwich and a cup of coffee before he was needed again. + </p> + <p> + "Have we plenty of coal, mate?" + </p> + <p> + "Bunkers are 'arf full, sir." + </p> + <p> + "What's she turning over now?" + </p> + <p> + "Six, seventy-five to th' minute, sir." There was a pause, + then Malone asked, "Is there any 'opes of <i>them</i> running + out o' fuel?" + </p> + <p> + "Not likely; they make the trip to Hamburg, you know." + </p> + <p> + They were just turning into the smelly galley, when a + startled voice sang out forward: + </p> + <p> + "Sail ahoy!" + </p> + <p> + This stopped the trio instantly. + </p> + <p> + "Where away?" called Caradoc. + </p> + <p> + "Dead ahead, sor!" + </p> + <p> + All three turned and went running back updeck. When they + regained the bridge, Madden stared in the direction + indicated. At first the western horizon looked empty, then + along its level line his eye caught two tiny marks against + the brilliant sky. As it was too small for his naked eyes, he + resorted to the binoculars once more. Caradoc was doing the + same thing. + </p> + <p> + "W'ot is it, sir?" inquired Malone anxiously. + </p> + <p> + When he had focused his glasses, Madden made out two fighting + tops—steel baskets circling steel masts, thrust up + menacingly over the slope of the world. + </p> + <p> + "W'ot is it, sir?" repeated Malone uneasily. + </p> + <p> + Just then Madden's eye caught the flag at the peak, as it + fluttered under the drive of the distant ship. It was the + black cross on the white ground, with the dark upper left + quarter of the German navy. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc took down his glass at the same time. + </p> + <p> + "They've been using the wireless," he stated evenly, "to run + us in a <i>cul de sac</i>. I might have known German cruisers + were close around." He looked steadily at the distant + fighting tops, then turned to Galton. + </p> + <p> + "Steer due north, quartermaster." + </p> + <p> + After a moment, he said to Malone: + </p> + <p> + "When you go below, send me up coffee and a biscuit." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH20"><!-- CH20 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <center> + THE LONE CHANCE + </center> + <p> + Rushing up the slope of the world in a battle line that + covered a wide sector of the southwestern horizon, steamed + four German battle cruisers. They were four sea eagles + dashing at a little water beetle of a tug—the hammer of + Thor swinging forward to crush an insect. The submarine had + signaled by wireless the whole German South Atlantic fleet to + destroy the tug. + </p> + <p> + Only in the face of this demonstration did Madden realize + that a great German naval stratagem hinged upon the fate of + the little English boat. The slow, clumsy little + <i>Vulcan</i> would decide the fate of millions of dollars + worth of English shipping. The little vessel was freighted + with huge consequences. + </p> + <p> + At first glimpse of the battle line, the <i>Vulcan</i> had + sheered about, and now rushed northward, stringing her black + smoke flat behind her. Up from the south, the submarine + followed on the surface, although she could not make as good + time through the weed as did the <i>Vulcan</i>. However, the + burden of destroying the English craft had been transferred + to the cruisers that came rushing forward at at least + twenty-five knots an hour. + </p> + <p> + As Madden stood on the bridge in the skirling wind, the + little <i>Vulcan</i>, the seaweed drifts and the cruisers + reminded him of nothing so much as a rabbit flying across + cotton rows in front of four greyhounds; only here there were + no friendly briar patches or fence corners in which to double + or hide. Never had the Sargasso appeared so vast, so empty, + so brilliant, so hot. + </p> + <p> + "Any chance?" he shouted to Caradoc above the rumble of + machinery and the whistling of the wind. + </p> + <p> + "There's always a chance! They might foul in these weeds!" he + nodded aft. + </p> + <p> + "Improbable." + </p> + <p> + "Lloyds would hardly insure us," admitted the commander + dryly. + </p> + <p> + At that moment, as if to lend point to the remark, came a + sharp clap of thunder off their port bow. Madden whirled + quickly. A ball of white smoke, the size of a balloon, + drifted up in the air a quarter of a mile distant. + </p> + <p> + The American stared at the smoke quite wonderstruck, then + looked around at the distant ships that had not yet topped + the horizon. + </p> + <p> + "Did they shoot this far?" + </p> + <p> + "A request to heave to." + </p> + <p> + "Are you going to do it?" + </p> + <p> + At the bursting of the shell, the men on deck came walking + aft to the superstructure, with the apprehensive gait of men + getting under shelter from blasting operations. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc leaned over the rail of the bridge. "Greer!" he + shouted, "go to the flag locker, get out a union jack and + show our colors on the peak!" + </p> + <p> + The men pulled up at this, and half a dozen men, two or three + of them crippled, hurried to carry out the order. In a few + minutes they came running back on deck with the flag. They + tangled the sheets after the manner of landsmen, but finally + the red pennant traveled skyward. There was a brief hoarse + cheering from the cockneys. + </p> + <p> + The flag was scarcely at the peak, when above the throb and + rumble of the machinery, Madden's ear caught a queer droning + noise, and a moment later came a deafening crash about two + hundred yards to the starboard. The water beneath it was + beaten to a foam, while another balloon of smoke slowly + expanded and thinned in the breathless air. A long time after + the bursting of the shell, Leonard heard the grumble of the + cannon that had fired it." + </p> + <p> + "Now, lads," shouted Caradoc, "go below and bring up some + rockets!" + </p> + <p> + The men set off with a will, but Madden viewed the situation + without any thrill of patriotism to gild a death under the + union jack. The cruisers were slowly coming into full view. + Through his glasses he could now see their turrets and the + black gun ports. + </p> + <p> + "What's the idea, Smith? You can't fight with rockets?" + </p> + <p> + "Some English vessel may see us," answered Caradoc shortly. + </p> + <p> + Madden was still more astonished. "What good would that do?" + he called above the wind. "She'd be captured, too." + </p> + <p> + "Certainly," agreed the Englishman brusquely, "but if she had + a wireless, she might report the situation to the Admiralty + before they sank us." + </p> + <p> + Madden removed his binoculars and stared at his friend. "Are + you staking your life on as long a chance as <i>that</i>?" + </p> + <p> + "My boy," said Smith, in an oddly matured tone, "when the + safety of one's country is at stake, one man's life doesn't + amount to <i>that</i>!" he snapped his fingers. "If there's a + point to be gained, you accept any chance + automatically—or no chance at all." + </p> + <p> + The American returned no answer, but there flashed into his + mind the legend of the Tyrian who beached his galley in order + to save the secret of Cornwall. Caradoc's narrative was oddly + prophetic of the fate of the <i>Vulcan</i>. And Madden + wondered with a quirk of grim humor if there were a foreigner + aboard that Tyrian's galley, and what <i>he</i> thought about + the sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + There was another jagged report as a shell burst just aft the + tug, then a missile of some thousands of pounds shrieked + through the air just above the stumpy masts and filled the + sky with fire and thunder a hundred yards ahead. + </p> + <p> + Out of the cabin came the rocket bearers, quite over their + fright by now, and acting with the nervous steadiness which + acute danger brings. One of the sailors from the regular crew + of the tug moved along the rail, mounting the fire signals + one after the other for shooting. Immediately behind him came + Hogan, using his one good hand to fish matches from his watch + pocket and light the fuses. + </p> + <p> + The first rocket lit with a sputter, for a moment its fiery + blowing filled the deck with smoke, then it darted skyward, + with a tremendous swis-s-sh! Up, in a long black column it + went, into the very heart of the hot brazen sky, then it + exploded with a faint pop, and a black head of smoke expanded + at a prodigious height. In the midst of the smoke-filled + deck, Hogan was applying his match to another. So as the tug + plowed forward, tall slender pillars of smoke, crowned with + swelling palm-like heads, arose to dizzy heights out of her + path. + </p> + <p> + By this time huge shells were bursting about the + <i>Vulcan</i> with crashing monotony. Sometimes the dodging + little vessel ran through the pungent gases of the shells + that were sent to destroy her. Now and then the giant + missiles exploded under water and sent furious waterspouts + leaping over her decks. Something touched the top of her + steel mainmast and snapped it off as if it were a straw. A + few minutes later the crew had cleared the union jack from + the wreckage and had it flaunting defiantly from the + forepeak. + </p> + <p> + It was an odd defiance, a tugboat's challenge to a German + battle line. The nibbling of a mouse once set a lion free. + Here was a mouse endeavoring to net a whole herd of lions. + </p> + <p> + The cruisers did not overhaul the little vessel as rapidly as + Madden had anticipated. The <i>Vulcan</i> skurried through + the seaweed fields, dodging this way and that in order to + take advantage of every lane of open water, but the unwieldy + battleships could not accept small advantages, and were + forced to plow straight ahead, through weed or wave as it + came. + </p> + <p> + Thus the cruisers still fired at extreme range, and the tug + escaped destruction as a gnat might jiggle between raindrops + and survive a summer's shower. + </p> + <p> + Amid steady crashes, Madden awaited stoically for the shot + that would erase the <i>Vulcan</i> from the face of the sea. + There came another splintering shock; the upper half of the + foremast made a curious jump, and came down with its rigging + and plunged overboard in the rushing water. The obstruction + instantly choked down the tug's speed. Every man in the crew + seized axe, saw, anything, and rushed forward in a fury of + impatience, hacking, chopping, sawing, working through the + wreckage and cutting the ropes with jackknives, in an effort + to clear the tug of debris. After an intolerable while, the + last ratlines snapped like pistol shots, the whizzing end of + a rope struck a sailor and laid him out as if clubbed, then + the foremast fell away and the <i>Vulcan</i> rushed forward + again. + </p> + <p> + "Look ahead, Madden!" shouted Caradoc in the uproar. "We've + got to run among thicker fields than these!" + </p> + <p> + By this time the tug's rockets were spent and the German + cruisers were rushing down a line of gigantic smoke-palms + that were planted by the little vessel. + </p> + <p> + "You might as well surrender," called the American coolly. + "You won't find a merchantman if you go in thicker + fields—you know that." + </p> + <p> + "Surrender!" bawled Smith. "Do you think they shall have this + tug to haul their prizes? Let 'em sink us, and then pick us + up in boats! Look ahead!" + </p> + <p> + The American turned his binoculars obediently and scanned the + west and north. His eyes traversed skein after skein of the + brilliant colorful patternings, but he was unable to find a + very closely netted region. He was about to announce his + discovery to Caradoc when his lense focussed on another grim + menace almost dead ahead. + </p> + <p> + He stared at it with a curious dropping of hopes that he had + not suspected were in his breast. + </p> + <p> + What he saw was another fighting top. That pertinacious + submarine had apparently surrounded the elusive <i>Vulcan</i> + with German fighting ships. + </p> + <p> + Leonard removed his field glasses and stood for a full minute + filled with a keen frustration. The splitting din about him + roared on uninterruptedly, and yet somehow he had been hoping + the <i>Vulcan</i> would escape. + </p> + <p> + "What do you make of it?" bawled Smith, who had been watching + the submarine, which was once more drawing dangerously close. + </p> + <p> + "We can't go in this direction, Smith!" shouted Leonard + hopelessly. "There are more ships in that direction." + </p> + <p> + "Warships?" demanded Caradoc swinging his spyglass around. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, fighting tops!" + </p> + <p> + Both lads focused in the new direction. + </p> + <p> + "Those Germans do everything thoroughly," shouted Leonard, + "even to sinking a tug!" + </p> + <p> + But instead of despairing, Caradoc, after a single glance, + rushed over to the speaking tube to the boilers. He blew the + whistle shrilly, then folded it back and screamed down. + </p> + <p> + "Malone! Malone! Malone!" + </p> + <p> + "Very well, sir!" came back the muffled voice through the + pipe. + </p> + <p> + "Give her all steam possible! Blow her up! Speed her, man, + speed her!" + </p> + <p> + "Very well, sir!" returned the same voice. + </p> + <p> + "Caradoc! Caradoc! Are you insane!" bawled Leonard. "Do you + imagine you can outrun two squadrons of German cruisers?" + </p> + <p> + "German cruisers! That's England's line of battle, Madden! + England! Old England! God let me get to them and tell 'em + what I know, then I don't care what happens!" + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH21"><!-- CH21 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <center> + THE BATTLE + </center> + <p> + "Th' signal book! Get the signal book!" bawled Greer amid the + uproar. + </p> + <p> + "W'ere is it?" + </p> + <p> + "In the flag locker! Chuck the flags out, too! Scatter 'em + out!" + </p> + <p> + "W'ot you want to signal?" + </p> + <p> + "Submarine—tell 'em to look out for submarines!" + </p> + <p> + Hogan, who held the volume in the crook of his bandaged arm, + licked his thumb and jabbed through the leaves in distracted + attention. "There aren't no code letters for submarine!" he + cried at last—"not in here!" + </p> + <p> + "No," shouted Black, the <i>Vulcan's</i> former captain, + "that's an old code—wasn't any submarines then!" + </p> + <p> + "Spell it out!" commanded Caradoc from the bridge. "Sharp + about it!" + </p> + <p> + The men worked in a clutter of buntings, assembling the flags + in nervous haste. Black laid out the nine letters and the + crew hurriedly hooked them together. Ten minutes later, they + strung the signal between the two splintered masts with a + queer drunken gala effect. + </p> + <p> + The <i>Vulcan</i> was no longer the German squadron's sole + target. Down on the Teuton battle line thundered five English + cruisers, filling the north with rolling smoke, their turrets + spangled with cannon flashes, prows shearing white walls of + foam. + </p> + <p> + The sky above the <i>Vulcan</i> was filled with the drone of + hurtling shells. They sounded as thick as swarming bees. The + cannon fire of the approaching English ships mounted to a + ragged roar. When the on-coming line was less than five miles + distant, Caradoc shouted an order to Galton and the little + tug swung around broadside on, displaying her warning signal + like a billboard. Through the battle smoke, Madden saw an + answering flag go up on the nearest ship. A cheer broke out + from the crew at this recognition of their work. + </p> + <p> + "They'll pass it around among the fleet by wireless!" shouted + Caradoc in Madden's ear. + </p> + <p> + "Do you know that ship, Smith?" called Madden excitedly. + </p> + <p> + "The <i>Panther</i>—held a commission on her once." + </p> + <p> + "Is it possible?" Madden peered at her through his glasses + with renewed scrutiny. + </p> + <p> + They were so close now that the American could pick out the + crew of range finders working in the fighting tops; he could + glimpse the huge guns in the forward turrets as they flashed + and roared amid shrouds of smokeless powder haze. Madden + realized he was seeing what every landsman dreams of seeing: + a naval battle. For some inscrutable reason, Caradoc had + headed the <i>Vulcan</i> clear around and now faced the + enemy, like a rat terrier amid a battle of mastiffs. + </p> + <p> + Madden turned aft as the tug swung around to follow the + fortunes of the <i>Panther</i>. He could see German shells + exploding now and then on her decks; sometimes they would + strike the sea and send up typhoons of water and weed. As he + gazed a small-calibre gun was struck, and there was nothing + but a ragged smoking hole where the port had been. An instant + later, the mizzen top was shrouded in an emerald flame, and + when the smoke cleared, only a jagged stump of iron thrust + skyward. The crew of range finders had been wiped out in an + instant. Several hours later, Leonard learned that the whole + German gunfire had been focussed for several minutes on the + <i>Panther</i>. + </p> + <p> + But now that gray, smoke-wreathed cruiser rushed on + indomitably, flanked by her thundering consorts. The + half-naked men on the <i>Panther's</i> decks looked curiously + small in their huge rushing fortress. German shells battered + her decks amid spangling green flames but could not stop her. + As she overtook the <i>Vulcan</i>, the concussion of cannon + fire and bursting shells grew so terrific it ceased to be + noise. It resolved itself into blows, terrific air movements + that smote Madden all over. It pounded his ear drums with + physical blows; it tore at the bridge of his nose, jarred his + teeth, sent shooting pains through his head, for he was not + wise enough to stuff his ears with cotton and hold his mouth + open. It shook the pit of his stomach and nauseated him. It + was a sound cyclone. Added to this the sickening acrid smell + of niter explosives filled the atmosphere. + </p> + <p> + On came the <i>Panther</i> through the green foam of German + fire, mingling the mighty vibrations of her engines, the hiss + of leaping walls of water, tempests of cannon fire and + vindictive shriek of leaping shells. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc leaned over to Madden and yelled something at the top + of his voice. Madden shook his head as a signal that he could + not hear. Smith repeated so loudly that his long face grew + red with the strain. It was impossible to catch a word. + Besides, Leonard's ears ached as if the drums were ruptured. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc caught up a speaking trumpet and held it to his + friend's ear. + </p> + <p> + "Don't look at the <i>Panther</i>!" cried a drowned voice. + "Watch ahead for the submarine!" + </p> + <p> + The submarine! Sure enough, there was the submarine, silent + stiletto, waiting beneath the sea to stab this fiery monster. + Madden's heart leaped into his throat. Was it possible so + slight an antagonist could engulf the battle cruiser? + </p> + <p> + The American turned and stared ahead over the shell-beaten + sea with all his eyes. The little <i>Vulcan</i> was now + racing along some half-mile in front of the English battle + line, her warning signal still stretched between her + splintered masts. She rushed at top speed, vibrating under + the stress of her engines. Five or six miles ahead the German + squadron had turned and was flying southward before the + superior English force. Flashes of fire and dull thunder + still belched from their after turrets. + </p> + <p> + Leonard tried to confine his attention to the adjacent waters + in careful search for the diving boat's periscope, but the + terrific spectacle across the smoky spangled sea gripped his + eyes beyond his control. + </p> + <p> + The ship on the eastern wing of the Teuton line was in + flames. The fire burst out of the gun deck ports, lapping up + over the boat decks in long red curling tongues. Her cannon + fire had ceased, and from what Leonard could see, he thought + the English ships had quit firing at her. She still fled + southward, however. Smoke began to roll out of her turrets, + and her crew came swarming out on her deck like a disturbed + ant's nest. Through his glasses, Madden saw them hunched + against the fire, working to launch a boat, when of a sudden + there was a blinding flare; a huge cloud of smoke leaped from + the sea, and after four or five minutes, a thunder heavily + audible even amid the roar of battle rumbled in Madden's + ears. It was the solemn note of a battleship destroyed by its + own magazines. When the smoke cleared away there was left + nothing save tossing waves and bits of flotsam here and + there. + </p> + <p> + The horror of the tragedy was lost for Leonard in another, + more appalling scene. The right central battleship had lost + control of her steering gear, and now she ran wildly amuck in + the fleeing line like a drunken giant of steel. + </p> + <p> + Through accident, or by the last shift of seamanship, she + veered about broadside on, her huge guns still belching + defiance. In crazy flight, she barely missed one of her own + squadron, then rounded back in a great circle for the English + line. No doubt her crew did not try to stop her, hoping that + her unguided charge might work some damage to the enemy. + </p> + <p> + On she came, against the focussed storm of English cannon, + her prow, forward turrets, bridge, masts, fairly + disintegrated under a bastinado of twelve and fourteen-inch + shells. Yet it seemed as if she would survive it all and ram + some English cruiser, when a cloud of steam broke out of her + hold. A lucky shot had exploded her boilers. Her wild charge + ceased instantly, but her sub-calibre guns still chattered + defiance at the crushing odds. Giant shells were now pounding + her at point-blank range. At some stroke of a cruiser to the + right of the <i>Panther</i>, the German ship heeled heavily + on her starboard side. + </p> + <p> + Through his glasses, Madden could see the sailors still + struggling to work the guns, though scores of them were wiped + from the deck at every English shell. Amid clouds of smoke + the black cross of the German battle flag fluttered + undaunted. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes the enemy listed until her guns were at such + a high angle they could no longer be trained against the + enemy. Her forward turret was completely blown away. Bursting + shells kept a constant glare around her. Her boiler and + furnace rendered her hold untenable, for her crew came out of + the smoke and formed orderly platoons on her crippled deck. + Shells swept gaps through their files, but they closed again + in regular formation, standing oddly erect on the tip-tilted + deck. There was not a gun they could man, not a blow could + they strike, yet the men stood firm in the steel cyclone + sweeping across their shattered deck. Then Madden turned his + lens on a group a little to one side of the main formation, + and his eye caught the gleam of silver horns, the rise and + fall of a drummer's arm, the fierce beating of a director + with a baton. It was the ship's musicians. The band was + playing, the men were chanting the battle hymn of the empire; + out of the heart of the foundering cruiser, out of the souls + of the passing warriors rose triumphantly, "<i>Die Wacht am + Rhein</i>." + </p> + <p> + Sudden tears filled the eyes of the American and dimmed the + splendid sight. He turned impulsively to his friend. + </p> + <p> + "Caradoc! My God!" he screamed in his ear, "why don't they + quit firing!" + </p> + <p> + "Their flag is still flying—no doubt the halyards are + shot away!" + </p> + <p> + Even while Smith screamed, a sudden and startling attack was + launched from the <i>Panther's</i> rapid fire and machine + guns. They sounded a shrill treble amid the profound shaking + bass of the giant cannon. The boys looked sharply about to + see the object of this abrupt attack, when they suddenly + heard the shrill whistling of steel all about their ears. + </p> + <p> + With the utmost horror, Madden saw every tiny port spouting + continuous flame in his direction. Steel frothed the sea all + around the <i>Vulcan</i>. Missiles struck the little tug and + glanced off with sharp musical twangs. The crew of the little + boat, who swarmed on deck, wonderstruck at the battle of the + giants, suddenly darted to cover with wild yells. + </p> + <p> + "They're crazy! They're daft!" screamed Madden. "Shooting at + us! What's the matter with 'em?" + </p> + <p> + Caradoc, also, seemed to share the madness. He suddenly spun + his wheel to the left, veered in a sharp circle, and dashed + straight toward the course of the <i>Panther</i> into the + thickest of the hail. Leonard stood beside him, frozen stiff, + when straight ahead, he suddenly saw a periscope show for an + instant, then disappear in a little swirl of water. The + submarine had come into the action. + </p> + <p> + The tug rushed straight through the bullet-rumpled water to + the point where the metal fin had disappeared, like a terrier + dashing at a rathole. + </p> + <p> + With the disappearance of the submarine's "eye," the + fusillade ceased abruptly. The great cannon were firing more + slowly now and there came short intervals of comparative + silence in the battle. + </p> + <p> + From the bridge Caradoc bellowed fiercely at his men: "Spread + around the rail—keep a sharp lookout for the + submarine!" The crew came back with a will now that they + learned the bombardment had not been intended for them. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime the tiny David had put the great Goliath to + flight. The <i>Panther</i> was endeavoring to save herself. + She veered out of the thundering battle line and zigzagged + easterly, in full flight from any enemy that she could almost + drop down one of her smokestacks. + </p> + <p> + And the little <i>Vulcan</i> swung about in an effort to keep + up with her principal. On she rushed, shaking and puffing + like a locomotive, her bright flags flying the submarine + warning, as if the speeding giant ahead of her were likely to + forget it. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Hogan bawled out: "By th' port! By th' port, sir! + There she rises!" + </p> + <p> + Another shrill storm from the giant showed that the gunners + aboard the <i>Panther</i> also saw the periscope. + </p> + <p> + Again the <i>Vulcan</i> dashed at the diving terror as it + disappeared and the cruiser swung clear around in a northerly + tack. Her commander was trying to outguess the man under the + sea. + </p> + <p> + A strange game of blind-man's-buff the three dissimilar + crafts were playing. Caradoc assumed the submarine pilot + would guess that the <i>Panther</i> had fled north, and he + sent the tug spitting along a course that would lie between + the cruiser and her enemy. The <i>Panther</i> was forced to + repass the <i>Vulcan</i> in the new maneuver. The giant and + pygmy were flying along at top speed, fairly abreast, + scarcely five hundred yards apart. + </p> + <p> + Leonard took his eyes off the starboard sea a moment to look + at the lion which this mouse was trying to nibble free, when + suddenly, not thirty yards on the <i>inside</i> of the tug + popped up the periscope. + </p> + <p> + The American rushed to the wheel, jerked it to the starboard. + "Yonder! Yonder!" he bellowed in Caradoc's ear, pointing. + </p><a name="image-4"><!-- Image 4 --></a> + <center> + <img src="images/illus04.png" height="730" width="450" alt= + "The Battle."> + </center> + <p> + Again the guns shrilled forth; a steel sleet wailed about the + <i>Vulcan</i>. Into the teeth of this blast, the tug circled + and lunged. + </p> + <p> + With fascinated eyes, Madden watched the periscope cut a + swirling circle on the midst of the beaten water and + straighten on the <i>Panther</i>. + </p> + <p> + Now the metal eye was directly under their swaying starboard. + A moment they sped side by side, toward the imperiled + cruiser. Madden could almost have touched the wireless masts. + A whine of bullets ripped one of their lifeboats like a saw + and sputtered through the superstructure. + </p> + <p> + The periscope, which thrust six or seven feet out of water, + disappeared under the swell of the <i>Vulcan's</i> hull. + Suddenly the tug swung her blunt beak around with the + sidelong blow of an angry swine. Madden went flying to the + right rail of the bridge to stare down at the imminent + tragedy. + </p> + <p> + A dim shadowy bulk was hurtling through the blue water. + Suddenly, just as the tug's prow swung athwart her course, + the submarine lined up straight with the <i>Panther</i>. A + great belching of bubbles wallowed up through the turbulent + sea as a sign that the torpedo was launched. + </p> + <p> + A heart-stopping moment, in which the diving boat, the + darting shadow of the torpedo, the blocking prow of the + <i>Vulcan</i> was clear. + </p> + <p> + A titanic upheaval of water; volcanic fires leaping out of + the heart of the deep; a roar so absolutely appalling that it + reduced the battle to a whisper! + </p> + <p> + The prow of the <i>Vulcan</i> reared up and bent back over + the main deck. In the same instant, out of the cauldron sea, + an enormous cigar-shaped object was flung end-over-end, as a + child flings a spindle. There was one flashing glimpse of + conning tower, smashed plates. Then a clap of surging air + that seemed as solid as oak picked Madden up as if he had + been thistledown. He felt himself whirling through space. + Somehow, he caught a glimpse of a string of signals that had + been blown from the wrecked masts of the shattered + <i>Vulcan</i>. Then he felt a stinging blow of water as he + hit the sea. + </p> + <p> + The submarine had destroyed both herself and the tug with her + first torpedo. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH22"><!-- CH22 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <center> + THE VICTORIA CROSS + </center> + <p> + Shocked, stunned, half blinded, Madden found himself kicking + in the water amidst a wreckage of spars, planks, buoys, with + here and there a swimmer struggling to stay on the surface. + The whole mass of flotsam swung slowly around the whirlpool + where tug and submarine had sunk. + </p> + <p> + The circling water was filmed with oil, the life-blood of the + stricken submarine. Presently the concavity in the ocean + mounted to level, and its rotation slowly died away. The + American found that his arms had unwittingly clasped + something which proved to be an empty tin canister with a + screw top. He hung to it apathetically. His ears bled from + the concussion of the torpedo, and it was with difficulty + that he focussed his eyes on anything. + </p> + <p> + Presently he became aware of a voice calling his name. It + seemed a long way off, but when he looked around he saw + Farnol Greer quite close to him. The thick-set black-headed + fellow motioned for Madden to approach, and the American + kicked himself and his float in that direction. A little + later he saw that Malone was with Farnol, and that the two + were supporting a third man. + </p> + <p> + "Lend us a 'and, 'ere, Madden," called Malone; "our chap's + knocked out." + </p> + <p> + "Who is it? Oh, it's Caradoc!" Madden stared down into the + still, upturned face with a dull emotionless feeling. He was + too numb to feel or sympathize. "Is he dead?" he finally + asked. + </p> + <p> + "Wounded, sir," replied Greer. + </p> + <p> + At that moment, the Englishman moved slightly, opened his + eyes. "We—stopped it, Madden." + </p> + <p> + "Are you badly hurt?" inquired the American, becoming more + nearly normal himself. + </p> + <p> + "Punch through my shoulder." + </p> + <p> + "Were you hit in the explosion?" + </p> + <p> + "One of the <i>Panther's</i> machine guns—ricocheted, I + think." + </p> + <p> + "What rotten luck!" growled Madden. + </p> + <p> + Smith reached his good arm to the float. "Had it all my life + in little things, Madden, but the <i>Panther</i>—that + torpedo——" + </p> + <p> + "Boat ahoy!" called Farnol Greer suddenly. + </p> + <p> + Leonard looked about and saw that the <i>Panther</i> had laid + to, a good two miles distant, and two of her cutters were + coming back to pick up the survivors. A blue-jacket on the + sharp bow of the little vessel waved an arm at Farnol's cry, + and presently the rescuing party was alongside. Caradoc went + up first, then Farnol, Malone and Madden, who automatically + clung to his tin canister. + </p> + <p> + The sailors from the warship were chattering excitedly over + the miraculous preservation of the <i>Panther</i>. + </p> + <p> + "If that tug had been 'arf a second later," declared one, + "she'd 'ave 'ad us, Sniper, sure—to th' port, there, + Bobby, there's another chap kickin' in th' water." + </p> + <p> + One of the sailors had a roll of bandages, and he now moved + over to Caradoc and stooped over the wounded man. + </p> + <p> + "You're pinked," he said in a tone of authority. "I'll take a + turn o' this linen around your shoulder." Suddenly he paused + as he glanced into the sufferer's face. "Why—why, hit's + the Lieut'nant!" he stammered. Then he stood erect and + saluted properly. "Would you 'ave a bandage, sir?" he asked + in a different one. + </p> + <p> + Caradoc assented wearily and shifted his shoulder for the + band of linen. The fellow must have been a surgeon's helper, + for he applied the strip rather dexterously as the cutter + steamed about picking up the rest of the <i>Vulcan's</i> crew + who had survived the catastrophe. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later friendly hands helped the waifs up the + <i>Panther's</i> accommodation ladder, where a group of + officers and men waited to be of service to the + <i>Vulcan's</i> crew. + </p> + <p> + The deck of the cruiser was torn and blackened from the + German fire; here and there were sailors in bandages. + Stretchers were placed at the head of the ladder for the + tug's wounded. + </p> + <p> + The crew, of the <i>Panther</i> showed the utmost cordiality + and also the utmost curiosity toward their visitors. A dapper + young midshipman gripped Madden's hand as he stepped on the + broad deck. + </p> + <p> + "Where did that tug come from?" he inquired at once. "Most + extraordinary sight—whole fleet pounding away at a + tug—Ponsonby is my name." + </p> + <p> + Madden mentioned his own, and several brother officers, + seeing that here was an intelligent fellow, gathered about + the American. Two or three were introduced with English + formality. + </p> + <p> + "If you are not too bowled over, old chap," begged a middy + named Gridson, "explain to us how a tug ever happened in the + middle of the Sargasso in full flight from a hostile fleet." + </p> + <p> + Some of the wounded were still coming up from the cutter, as + Madden made a beginning of the tug's story. Just then he was + interrupted by Ponsonby. + </p> + <p> + "Pardon, Madden, but who is that chap coming up—Say, + Gridson, that isn't—why that's Wentworth!" The middy + suddenly dropped his voice. "That's Wentworth or his ghost, + fellows—off of a <i>tug</i>!" + </p> + <p> + Madden looked. Smith was coming on the deck under the + solicitous escort of a surgeon. + </p> + <p> + "That's Caradoc Smith," said Madden. "He assumed command of + the tug when he found out war was declared." + </p> + <p> + "Smith was part of his name," explained Gridson. "Caradoc + Smith-Wentworth was the way he signed the register. He's of + the Sussex Smith-Wentworths. His brother took the title, you + know." + </p> + <p> + "Just fancy!" marveled Ponsonby. "Cashiered six months ago, + comes back chasing submarines on a tug, a hero, from boot + strap to helmet—a bloody hero——" + </p> + <p> + "Hold there, Ponsonby," cautioned another officer named + Appleby. "The chap may be hurt seriously—you oughtn't + to laugh." + </p> + <p> + "Just look at the old man shaking his hand!" ejaculated + Gridson, as a very erect gray-headed officer came down off + the bridge and extended his hand. "You wouldn't think he had + cashiered him six months ago." + </p> + <p> + "I hope he gets his commission back," said Ponsonby, "but he + will likely lose it again from tippling." + </p> + <p> + "I believe he is cured," said Madden. + </p> + <p> + Appleby made some reply as the little group moved forward to + meet the wounded man. However, the surgeon and three senior + officers were walking with him below to the ship's hospital. + </p> + <p> + It required two full days to get the <i>Panther</i> into + shipshape condition, and during that time the entire fleet + kept a sharp lookout for the German mother ship, but that + huge mysterious vessel had disappeared as utterly as if the + Sargasso had swallowed her up. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps she did destroy herself to prevent capture, or + perhaps her sky-blue hue allowed the fleet to sail under her + very prow while she remained invisible. No doubt the two + German warships which escaped had warned their consort of her + danger, and she had sailed for some port in German Africa. At + any rate she was never captured or destroyed. + </p> + <p> + However, on the evening of the third day, the looming red + walls of the floating dock appeared on the eastern horizon. + It was so huge and vast that even the crew of the battleship + burst into a cheer. + </p> + <p> + Captain Ames of the <i>Panther</i> immediately communicated + with the admiralty and arrangements were made to tow the dock + to Antigua, where she would be kept as a naval reserve until + the end of the war and then allowed to proceed to Buenos + Aires. + </p> + <p> + The British Towing and Shipping Company was repaid for the + loss of the <i>Vulcan</i>, and a prize of five hundred + thousand dollars distributed among the tug's crew for sinking + the submarine. Thus the dreams of wealth aroused by the + ill-fated <i>Minnie B</i> were realized in a small way by the + dock's crew. No doubt Deschaillon has his frog pond, old Mrs. + Galton her plot of flowers, and Hogan a tall hat, a + long-tailed coat and a silver-headed cane. + </p> + <p> + One week after the Battle of the Sargasso, a formal dinner + was given in the officers' mess. At this affair two civilians + were present, Leonard Madden and Caradoc Smith-Wentworth. + </p> + <p> + Under the radiance of many electric lights, Caradoc appeared + rather weak and bloodless. However, everyone seemed quite + cheerful. The talk was naturally of the war. The officers + were speculating upon the entrance of Italy and Turkey into + the struggle. + </p> + <p> + Presently Captain Ames touched an electric button and Gaskin, + serene, deferential and wearing an added dignity along with + his new uniform, entered the cabin with a basket full of ice + and bottles on his arm. + </p> + <p> + When his helpers had cleared the table, the fat fellow moved + decorously from diner to diner, announcing each port of call + by the subdued pop of a champagne cork muffled in his napkin. + Madden shook his head when the solemn fellow bent + solicitously over him. "Make mine water, Gaskin," he + requested in an undertone, laying three fingers over his + goblet. + </p> + <p> + The cook changed almost imperceptibly from a straw colored + bottle to a glittering carafe of water; then he moved to + Caradoc. + </p> + <p> + The Englishman hesitated a moment, glanced at Madden and + said, "Same thing, Gaskin." + </p> + <p> + Captain Ames must have observed his action, and showed his + silent approval by requesting water for himself. A few + moments later the captain arose. + </p> + <p> + "Gentlemen," he began in his crisp military voice, "His + Majesty, and all England, are greatly pleased at the work of + the South Atlantic fleet. In the report of our recent + victory, the commander of the <i>Panther</i> had an extremely + cogent reason to commend very heartily the action of a former + officer of this vessel. To be exact and fair, it was an act + upon which the safety of this vessel and her crew depended." + </p> + <p> + A little polite applause filled the slight interval in the + speech. Caradoc colored somewhat and the captain continued. + </p> + <p> + "It is pleasant to me to announce that His Majesty, through + the Admiralty, has seen fit to reward this act by tendering + Caradoc Smith-Wentworth his commission as first lieutenant in + His Majesty's navy." + </p> + <p> + A real outburst of applause greeted this announcement, but + the captain held up his glass and raised his voice for + silence. + </p> + <p> + "And I have the further pleasure to tender to Mr. + Smith-Wentworth, at his Majesty, George the Fifth's, express + command, the Victoria Cross for conspicuous bravery upon the + field of battle." + </p> + <p> + "Let us drink his health!" he finished above the + congratulatory uproar that broke out on the announcement. + </p> + <p> + The men held their goblets at arm's length. + </p> + <p> + "Here's to you, Wentworth!" "To your deserved honor, my boy!" + "To your well-earned promotion, Wentworth!" they chorused + heartily. + </p> + <p> + In the lull of drinking, Madden lifted his water to his + friend. + </p> + <p> + "Here's to the <i>remittance</i> man," he proposed solemnly, + "who vanishes to-night and leaves a <i>Man</i>." + </p> + <p> + Caradoc's long face was deeply moved as he looked into the + eyes of the youth whose life Providence had so intimately + entwined with his own. After a moment he responded steadily + enough, "With all my heart, Madden. And here's to the land + which you taught me how to serve, my country—my + home—Old England!" + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Cruise of the Dry Dock, by T. S. 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S. Stribling + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Cruise of the Dry Dock + +Author: T. S. Stribling + +Posting Date: August 16, 2012 [EBook #9547] +Release Date: December, 2005 +First Posted: October 8, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE DRY DOCK *** + + + + +Produced by Robert Shimmin, David Garcia and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: They Were at Last Under the Overhang of the Mysterious +Schooner.] + + + + + + +The Cruise of the Dry Dock + +By T.S. Stribling + + + +Illustrated by Herbert Morton Stoops + + + +1917 + + +_The Cruise of the Dry Dock_ + +_Lovingly Dedicated to My Mother_ + + + + + + +CONTENTS + + I The Dry Dock + II Adventure Begins + III The Last of the _Vulcan_ + IV An Interrupted Meeting + V Sail Ho! + VI The Cul de Sac + VII Trapped + VIII The Mystery Ship + IX A Modern Columbus + X The Strange End of the _Minnie B_ + XI Caradoc Shows His Mettle + XII The Return of the _Vulcan_ + XIII The Sea Serpent + XIV Caradoc Wins His Fight + XV Towed! + XVI Caradoc Takes Command + XVII The Get-Away + XVIII Nerve Versus Gunpowder + XIX Chased by a Submarine + XX The Lone Chance + XXI The Battle + XXII The Victoria Cross + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + They Were at Last Under the Overhang of the Mysterious Schooner + + Out There Lay Adventure, Mystery--More Than Either Dreamed + + Caradoc Stands the Acid Test + + The Battle + + + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE DRY DOCK + + +"She's movin'!" cried a voice from the crowd on the wharf side. "Watch +'er! Watch 'er!" + +A dull English cheer rippled over the waterfront. + +"Blarst if I see _why_ she moves!" marveled an onlooker. "That tug +looks like a water bug 'itched to a 'ouse-boat--it's hunreasonable!" + +"Aye, but they're tur'ble stout, them tugs be," argued a companion. + +"It's hunreasonable, just the same, 'Enry!" + +"Everything's hunreasonable at sea, 'Arry. W'y w'en chaps put to sea +they tell we're they're at by lookin' at th' _sun_." + +"Aw! An' not by lookin' at th' map?" + +"By lookin' at th' sun, 'pon honor!" + +"Don't try to jolly me like that, 'Enry, me lad; that's more +hunreasonable than this." + +By this time the cheers had become general and the conversation broke +off. An enormous floating dry dock, towed by an ocean-going tug, slowly +drew away from the ship yards on the south bank of the Thames, just +below London. The men on the immense metal structure, hauling in ropes, +looked like spiders with gossamers. A hundred foot bridge which could be +lifted for the entrance of ocean liners, spanned the open stern of the +dock and braced her high side walls. These walls rose fifty or sixty +feet, were some forty feet thick and housed the machinery which pumped +out the pontoons and raised the two bridges, one at each end. The tug, +the _Vulcan_, which stood some two hundred yards down stream, +puffing monotonously at the end of a cable, did seem utterly inadequate +to tow such a mass of metal. Nevertheless, to the admiration of the +crowd, the speed of the convoy slowly increased. + +Tug and dock were well under way when the onlooking line was suddenly +disrupted by a well-dressed youth who came bundling a large suit case +through the press and did not pause until on the edge of the green +moulded wharf. + +"Boat!" he hailed in sharp Yankee accent, gesticulating at a public +dory. "Here, put me aboard that dry dock, will you? Hustle! the thing's +gathering way!" + +"A little late," observed a voice at the newcomer's elbow. + +"Yes, I hung around London Tower trying to see the crown jewels, then I +broke for St. Paul's for a glimpse of Nelson's Monument, then I ran down +to Marshalsea, where Little Dorrit's father--make haste there, you +slowpoke water-rat! Rotton London bus service threw me six minutes +late!" he concluded. + +The American's explosive energy quickly made him a focus of interest. + +"What are you trying to do?" smiled the Englishman, "jump out of a +Cook's tour into a floating dock?" + +The American turned on the joker and saw a tall, well-set-up young +fellow with extraordinarily broad shoulders, long brown face, stubby +blond mustache, who looked down on him with amused gray eyes. + +"In a way," grinned the man with the suit case. "I'm knocking about all +over the map, trying to see if the world is really round. Got a job +aboard that dock--going with her to Buenos Aires--Say, slow-boy, is that +dory of yours anchored, or is it really coming this way?" + +"Coomin' that way, sor!" wheezed the waterman from below. + +"That's a coincidence," observed the stranger, twirling his pale +mustache. "I had a berth on her, too." He indicated a huge English kit +bag at his feet. + +"Then you'd better get a move on if you're going!" snapped the American, +instantly taking charge of the whole affair. "Shoot your grip here!" He +stood ready to receive and deliver it to the boatman who had landed +below. + +"Had about decided not to go," frowned the Briton with an odd change of +manner. "It looks--er--so nasty over there--still, if you can endure it +I suppose I--" the final phrase was lost in the swing at his big kit +bag. + +The American followed the luggage hurriedly; the tall fellow lowered +himself calmly and with a certain precision into the stern of the dory. +The boatman set out toward the gliding mass of iron. + +The blond youth surveyed their distance from the great dock and marked +its deliberate but deceptive speed. + +"I doubt whether we catch it after all," he remarked with slight +interest in his voice. + +"Then we'll take a train to Gravesend and get aboard boat there," +planned the American promptly. + +A smile glimmered on the long brown face for a moment. "That's very +Yankee-like, I believe," he said complimentarily. + +With the brisk friendliness of his nation, the Yankee drew a morocco +case from his pocket. "Leonard Madden is my name," he said as he offered +a bit of engraved card. + +The Englishman started to reach inside his coat but paused. "I am +Caradoc Smith," he replied gravely. Then, as an afterthought, he drew a +small silver-mounted flask from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, poured it +full of a liquor and offered it. + +"To a pleasant acquaintance and a profitable journey, Mr. Madden," he +began ceremoniously. + +A slight flush reddened the white skin at Madden's collar, but did not +show on his tanned face. It always embarrassed him to be forced to +reject friendly overtures. + +"Sorry," he shook his head; "don't use it. But the wish goes." + +The Englishman looked his surprise. "Then, if you don't object--" he +lifted pale brows. + +"Certainly not; do as you like." + +Smith tossed the capful down his throat. "You know, I've met several +Americans," he commented more warmly, "and half of them don't use +alcoholics. Strange thing--can't fancy why." + +Madden went into no explanation. They were nearing the dock by this time +and their boatman began a hoarse calling for some one on board to toss a +line. + +It was like shouting for a man in a city block. The basal pontoon rose +twelve feet above their heads; beyond this towered the thick side walls +spanned by the bridge. The waterline of the whole dock was painted a +bright red, some four feet high, and above this rose an expanse of raw +black iron, punctuated with long rows of shining rivet heads. + +The boatman was rowing at top speed and bellowing like an asthmatic fog +horn. "We'll never git nobody," he wheezed. "Nobody seems to stay around +this section of th' dock, sor." + +Madden raised a lusty shout; the great structure was slowly increasing +her speed. + +"Yell, Smith, yell!" he counseled between shouts. "We may not be able to +get a train to Gravesend in time!" + +"I'm not that eager to go," observed the Englishman with a shrug. + +The dory was falling behind. Madden leaped up, ran to the oars and began +pushing as the boatman pulled. Their united efforts just kept the blunt +little dory in the hissing wake of the dock. + +"Help! Line! Aboard dock! Lend a line!" the two of them roared +discordantly. + +"We're not going to make it!" cried Madden desperately. "Lend a hand +here, Smith!" + +At that moment a dark head with sharp black mustaches popped over the +stern of the dock. + +"Ah-ha! A race!" cried the man above in a French accent. "Come, Mike, +zee the English sporting speerit! Voila! What a race--a dory and a dry +dock!" + +"Throw us a line!" shrieked Madden, "you blithering--think this is fun?" + +"Ah, pardon, a thousand pardons! I hasten!" + +He disappeared and a few seconds later a coil of rope came hurtling +down. Madden caught it and his toil was over. A moment later another +sailor, of distinct Irish physiognomy, dropped down a rope ladder to the +boat. They paid the sweating boatman a double fare, climbed up and +hoisted their bags with the line. + +Only when on board did the lads appreciate the enormous size of the +dock. It would have been impossible to throw a baseball from one end to +the other. The black sides rose above them like an iron canyon. Ranging +down these precipices were innumerable huge iron stanchions for the +shoring of ocean liners. Toward the forward end of the dock was a two +hundred ton pile of coal, for the use of the tug, but it was dwarfed to +the size of a kitchen supply by the black expanse around it. On the +other side there were erected a few temporary wooden houses to serve as +kitchen, dining room, and quarters for the crew on the voyage. There +were a group of men loitering about these cabins. + +The newcomers still stared at their gigantic surroundings when the +interested Frenchman said politely: + +"It ees large, beeg, yes?" + +"Where's the boss?" inquired Leonard. "We've got jobs aboard this +craft." + +"He is making out the papers now, I think, and ees in a bad temper, +too." + +With this discouraging information, the two young men started for the +officers' cabin. As they entered the place they met a crew of typical +London longshoresmen coming out. Inside, a stocky purple-cheeked cockney +stood at a little desk and glowered at them with small red eyes. + +"'Ow's this?" he growled sharply, and in some surprise. "You are not in +th' crew Hi picked hup." + +"No, we applied at the office--" + +"Hoffice, hoffice," snarled the man. "W'ot do they know about men, +settin' hup there with their legs cocked hup? W'ot is it ye want +anyway?" + +Leonard silently offered a paper he had received from the British Towing +and Shipping Company. The mate wrinkled his half inch of knobbly brow as +he read the paper in a low undertone, after the manner of illiterate +men. + +"And by the way, my man," began Caradoc in stiff condescension, "we +would like one of those cabins to ourselves." + +The mate flung up a club-like head and threw back his blocky shoulders. +"_My man!_" he gasped. "Ye call me _my man_, ye little cigarette-suckin' +silk-hatted Johnny--orderin' private cabins! W'ot ye think this is--a +floatin' 'otel?" + +Madden bit his lip to keep from smiling at the odd play of anger and +surprise on Smith's long expressive face. + +"No harm meant, Mr. ----" began the American soothingly. + +"Malone--Mate Malone!" stormed the angry officer by way of introduction. + +"You understand how friends prefer to bunk together instead of with +strangers. We thought we would ask you about it." + +This soothed the irascible fellow somewhat. Still glowering, he +spraddled out of the cabin with the boys after him, and presently +indicated one of the small temporary cabins with a jerk of his thumb. As +to whether his intentions were kindly or cruel, Madden could not +determine, but their lodgment was a low kennel-like place, the smallest +in the row. Nevertheless it was very clean and smelled of new lumber. It +held four bunks, two on a side. The boys dropped their luggage inside +with the pleasure of travelers reaching their destination. + +"Got no fire arms nor whiskey?" growled the mate, looking through the +door at his new men. + +Both answered in the negative. + +"All right; step lively now. We want to raise that waterline 'igh enough +to work in the waves before we reach th' Channel." + +The lads shut the door after them, then started under Malone's direction +for whatever work he had. + +They found the whole crew swinging along the hundred foot front of the +dock, broadening the brilliant red waterline with all possible dispatch. +The reason for attacking the front first was obvious. In case of rough +weather, the way of the dock would pile the waves higher ahead than +anywhere else. Leonard and his new friend lowered themselves on a +swinging platform over the twelve-foot pontoon and joined in the work. + +Tug and dock were now passing through the congested traffic of the lower +Thames and the enormous English shipping spread in a panorama before +them. Here were barges, smacks, scows, sailing vessels; big liners +plowing through the press with hoarse whistles; rusty English tramps, +that carried the Union Jack to the uttermost ends of the earth. Even a +few dreadnoughts lay castled on the broadening waters. On both sides of +the river, dull warehouses and factories stretched out rusty wharves, +like myriad fingers, to receive the tonnage that converged on this +center of the world's activities. + +American curiosity almost prevented Madden from working at all. He +painted intermittently, between wonders, so to speak. As for Caradoc, he +made no pretense to labor, but propped a broad shoulder against the +supporting rope, stuck a cigarette under his white mustache and fell to +regarding the waterscape in a serious, preoccupied fashion. + +"Say, old man," warned Leonard in an undertone, briskly plying his +brush, "that mate looked down at us then. He'll raise a rough house if +we don't get a move on and keep our section up." + +Caradoc came out of his muse, tossed his cigarette into the swirling +water a few feet below him. "Impudent chap!" he snapped. + +Madden laughed. "His trade is to get work out of men and it requires +impudence." + +Caradoc grunted something, perhaps an assent. The two fell briskly to +work and soon made an impression on the blank iron wall. At first the +American chatted of this and that, rehearsing his own aimless ramblings +as men will, but presently he observed that Smith was painting away and +paying no attention to his partner's chatter. + +"What's the worry, old man?" queried Madden lightly. "'Fraid the +paint'll give out?" + +"I presume they have sufficient paint," answered Smith stiffly, as he +flapped his brush across the bright head of a big rivet. + +"Why--yes," agreed Madden, a little taken aback, "but you look like you +might be getting up a grouch at something--" + +"About time to pull up, isn't it?" interrupted Smith. + +The brusqueness in the speech grated on Madden, but they hauled up their +platform without further remarks on either side. The Englishman seemed +to work slower than the American, but somehow covered as much ground. + +The coat of red paint had risen considerably on the dock when the +bosun's whistle gave a faint shrill from the deck. The whole string of +painters facing the pontoon's bow began hauling up their platforms. The +lads followed their example. + +Malone was hastily pulling his crew together in the mess room on the +middle pontoon. He came by waving his short heavy arms in the direction +of the long eating room. + +"Get along aft; you're to sign the ship's papers!" he bawled +monotonously. "Get along!" + +Most of the men walked faster when the mate flung his arms at them. +Leonard felt the impulse to step livelier but held himself to Caradoc's +deliberate stride. + +In the mess room the boys found a compact, black-haired, serious-faced +young man of unknown nationality reading the ship's articles in an +expressionless tone. Nobody listened, although various penalties were +prescribed for desertion, quitting ship without leave, disobedience of +orders, each with its particular fine or punishment. When the reader +finished, the men walked around one by one and signed the register. +Then a copy of the articles was pointed out on the side of the mess +room, and again no one observed. + +The performance was hardly completed when the gong rang for supper. +There were not more than a dozen men at mess. Most were of stolid +English navvy type, dirty uncouth men whose gross irregular features +told of low birth and evil life. The foreign element comprised an +Irishman named Mike Hogan and the Frenchman whom the boys had met when +they first came aboard. The crowd called him Dashalong. Upon inquiry, +Leonard found it to be Deschaillon. The young man who read the articles +was named Farnol Greer. However, he proved a silent, taciturn youth, who +seemed to converse with no one and to have no friends. + +In the long narrow eating cabin mingled the clean smell of newly sawed +lumber and the odor of poor cookery. The meal proved rather worse than +ordinary steerage food. After the first taste Smith put it by, +grumbling. Leonard, who was hungry, consumed about half of his. + +Beef stew and boiled white fish formed the menu. Perhaps there is +nothing quite so slippery and disheartening as boiled white fish grown +luke warm or cold. The navvies ate ravenously enough, but Hogan and +Deschaillon were not so wolfish. + +Mike speared a bit on his fork and regarded it sadly. "This fish reminds +me uv a fun'ril," he observed, "an' yonder lad looks to be chief +mourner," he nodded toward Farnol Greer. + +"He ees not mourning over the feesh," declared Deschaillon gayly. "He +ees struck on heemself, and found his affection ees misplaced." + +Madden laughed. The spirits of the Celt and the Gaul seemed to improve +as their fare grew worse. + +"Oh, av course a frog-atin' Frinchman loike you, Dashalong, would think +any kind av fish a reg'lar feast." + +Deschaillon leaned over to inspect his portion. "Now eet does very +well--to wax zee mustache, Mike." He twirled his own. + +Caradoc grunted disapproval of such doubtful table talk, arose and left +the rough company and rough fare with supercilious condemnation. + +"Your friend's appetite sames as dilicate as his wor-rkin' powers," +observed Hogan as he watched the Englishman stoop and disappear through +the doorway. + +Madden smiled. "We didn't work any too hard this afternoon, did we?" + +Mike and Pierre proved droll companions, ready to jibe at anyone or +anything in perfect good nature, so that it was an hour before Leonard +strolled outside. As he had no further duty, he climbed a long ladder to +the top of the high dock wall and walked forward toward the bridge. + +By this time the sun had set and left the world filled with a luminous +yellow afterglow. The estuary of the Thames had widened abruptly off +Sheerness, and far to the south was the dim line of chalk cliffs that +England thrusts toward France. Overhead stretched a translucent +yellow-green sky with the long black line of the _Vulcan's_ smoke +marking it. + +Leonard moved across the bridge slowly. + +There was almost perfect silence over the great structure below him, +save for the slow creaking of new joints in the iron plates, the +softened chough-choughing of the tug ahead. + +There were several paint barrels piled up on the bridge, slung there no +doubt by machinery, to prevent the men having to toil up with it from +below. The boy leaned against one of these barrels, gazing into the +yellow flood of light that bathed everything in its own saffron. His +heart beat high with a feeling of the hazard of the ocean. He tried +to fancy what would happen to the huge dock as it adventured through +tropic seas. His imagination readily conjured up a kaleidoscope of +incidents--cannibal proas, shark fights, sea serpents, typhoons, +mutinies, what not. + +And at every turn of the tug's propeller all this bright dashing world +of adventure drew nearer and nearer. For some reason he recalled what +the bystander on the dock had said--"Everything is unreasonable at sea," +and he laughed aloud. + +As a sort of gloomy echo of his laugh, his ear caught a groan from the +other side of the paint barrels. With the utmost surprise and curiosity, +he straightened up and moved silently around the pile. + +Then he saw the tall Englishman leaning across the bridge rail, face in +hands, staring at the line of land silhouetted in black between the +brazen sky and the reflecting water. Smith's whole attitude was so +suggestive of trouble that Madden moved forward in generous sympathy. + +The Englishman heard the movement, straightened, looked around; his long +face wore a look of suffering in the colored light. + +"Sorry you're so blue, old man," sympathized the American, making a +guess at the cause of his bad spirits. "Let's have a turn around this +old tub and forget homesickness." + +"Home!" echoed Caradoc gruffly. "It's--it's all England I'm leaving. +It's England and honor and--" he stiffened suddenly and snarled out: "Do +you think I climbed away up here on this bridge hunting your company?" + +Leonard was utterly nonplussed by this shift. "I'm sure I meant no +harm--" + +"Certainly not," sneered Caradoc. "You Americans have the undesired +friendliness of stray puppies--you have no conception of personal +reserve--you turn your souls into moral vaudevilles." + +A flush of indignation swept over Madden. "That's no decent return for a +friendly approach!" he declared hotly, "and I'd rather be a puppy than a +hedgehog any day!" + +Caradoc made no reply, but seemed to erase Madden from his mind and +shifted slowly around to his staring and his thoughts. + +This last bit of impudence fairly clanged on Madden's temper. He felt a +desire to tell this coxcomb just what he thought of him. If Caradoc had +remained facing the American, Madden might have done so, but it feels +foolish to rail at a profile. Madden wheeled angrily, tramped across the +bridge, then down the high side of the dock toward the ladder. From far +below him came Hogan's voice, a concertina, and the sound of clacking +feet. Apparently the Irishman had induced someone to dance a jig. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ADVENTURE BEGINS + + +Fortunately for the British Towing and Shipping Company, the next few +days were glassy calm, and as the _Vulcan_ coughed along the South +England coast, the crew had fair opportunity to raise the coat of paint +out of danger. + +They had finished the ends by this time and were now working on the high +exterior sides of the dock. The labor was distasteful to Leonard, not +within itself, but it is disagreeable to dangle in midair over a huge +iron wall, blue water gurgling below, and sit beside a man who has +affronted one by calling one's manners puppyish and one's soul a +vaudeville. Even if one really be fond of puppies and enjoy vaudeville, +the implication is unpleasant. + +On the third morning after, Caradoc wielded his brush listlessly and +looked sick. His fine shoulders sagged and his eyes were hollow in his +long face. Leonard, whose spirits naturally mounted with the sun, found +it hard to continue the three days' silence. He wanted to talk about the +splendid English coast with its gemlike villages set in green, the +red-sailed fishing smacks, the social gulls feeding in the long trail +behind the dock. It is difficult to be reserved under such conditions. +Then, too, Caradoc was so obviously ill, Madden felt sorry for the +fellow. + +As for the Englishman, he paid little attention to his working mate, but +languidly splashed the iron wall, and himself, with red paint. After +some two hours' work, he stood up on the platform as if sore, made an +irresolute start, finally climbing the rope ladder to the top. Madden +wondered about the queer fellow, but was rather relieved by his absence. +Within twenty or thirty minutes, however, he was back, but in +perceptibly better spirits. He worked briskly for a few minutes, then +dropped brush in pail and turned to Leonard as if no shadow had crossed +their acquaintance. + +"Well, Madden, we can hardly blame the old Phoenicians for guarding the +secret of the Cassiterides, can we?" + +The American almost fell off the platform in surprise. + +"Why--er--no, I don't blame 'em," he blurted, not having a ghost of a +notion what the Englishman was talking about. "No, I--I never blamed 'em +a bit--never did." + +"Those were poetic days, Madden." + +The American stared, his mind as much at sea as his body. + +"Think of that Phoenician sailing his galley for the Isles of Tin. The +Romans follow him, day after day, week after week. But does he betray +the secret of Tyre's wealth?" Caradoc made a gesture. Madden was about +to answer that he didn't know, when the orator went on. + +"He does not. Rather than expose the rich mines of Cornwall, he dashes +his galley upon a reef and risks his life among the early English +barbarians." + +"Was it here where that happened?" asked Madden interestedly, fishing +some such tale from the bottom of his recollection. + +Caradoc stood upright on the swinging platform, hands thrust in jacket +pockets, thumbs out, Oxford fashion. His tall form swayed slowly with +the steady rise and fall of the dock. + +"Certainly, the Cassiterides is Cornwall, and that point of land just +ahead is the spot where the Tyrian wrecked his ship, so the legend +goes." + +Madden's eyes followed Caradoc's gesture. "I've read that story, but I +never thought of seeing the place." + +"Cornwall is entrancing if you care for antiquities," went on Smith in +the polished style of a collegiate. "Four or five miles up that cape are +the Boskednan Circles and the Dawns-un, old Druidic stone temples. Just +across the peninsula is St. Ives, where the virgin Hya appeared +miraculously. It is really regrettable, Madden, that you are leaving +England before you tour Cornwall. A wonderful little island, England. A +land to live for--or to die for, God willing." + +Caradoc stared toward the coast, frowning, with the old familiar look of +pain coming into his eyes. His hearer and his extemporaneous lecture +plainly slipped out of his mind. + +"You've been along here before," suggested Madden with a hope of +diverting Smith's mind. + +"Oh, yes," replied the Englishman gloomily. + +"Sailor, perhaps?" + +"Yes." + +"Not another dry dock, I trust," laughed Madden, turning to work. + +"No." + +"Windjammer?" + +"Yes." + +Leonard nodded at his painting. "Fishing smack, I'll bet." + +The cross-questioning was interrupted by a raucous voice overhead, and +both boys looked up to see the mate's thick torso hanging over the rail. +He was shaking his fist at the tall Englishman. + +"W'ot you think we brought you along for?" he bawled savagely. "To give +lectures? If you don't paint and quit blowin', you win' bag, I'll ship +you at Penzance!" + +Caradoc's face went white, leaving threadlike purple veins showing on +nose and cheeks. "I'm willing to do my duty," he said with a quiver in +his tone. He glanced at his empty paint bucket. "If I'm to work, bring +me paint--I'm out!" + +Caradoc seemed to be able to make the mate madder and do it quicker than +anyone else. + +"Paint! Bring you paint!" roared Malone, apoplectic. "Git out an' git +your paint, or I'll put a longer, uglier head than that on your +shoulders." + +Caradoc gave a shrug, stooped for the bucket, then began composedly +climbing the ladder straight at the sputtering officer. + +"Be careful there, Smith," warned Madden in an undertone; "he'd as soon +as not slug you without giving you a dog's chance." + +Caradoc said nothing but continued his climbing. The men on the platform +fore and aft ceased work, watching the mate and the climbing man +intently. The silence following the usual drone of conversation was +noticeable. + +Caradoc was just reaching up to climb into Malone, when at that moment +something happened that drew and held everybody's attention. + +The whole face of the sea around the dock broke into a sort of +sputtering. The ocean seemed to boil. To his astonishment, Madden saw +the commotion was caused by millions of small fishes leaping and running +along the surface. + +Cries came from all over the dock at once: "Pilchards! Pilchards are +shoaling! Pilchards are shoaling!" + +The few gulls in the sky now seemed to multiply and settled in a +fluttering cloud to strike such easily captured food. Among the press of +little fish leaped cod, hake, dog fish, all feasting on the annual +migration of the pilchards. The crew on the dock scrambled up and over +the sides, flung down boxes, buckets, anything and scooped the fish from +the sea. + +The diversion saved the Englishman from any bellicose intention of the +mate, who hurried off to take a hand in the sport. Madden sat on his +platform watching the fun, for it was a remarkable sight. Caradoc swung +around on the ladder facing Leonard. + +"There, Madden," he cried, "is a sight characteristic of no other sea. +Every season Cornish fisheries capture millions of these fish. They +pickle 'em, can 'em. They even sell them to you Yankees for sardines. +You are fortunate to have seen this phenomenon." + +Leonard studied the novel sight. Hundreds of fishing smacks converged on +the area where the pilchards were breaking, their red sails glowing +warmly against the green of the land and the blue of the sea. Gulls +whirled about the tall dock, filling the air with thin creakings. Madden +admired the sudden picturesque activity. Some of the smacks were so +close now that he could see their long trawls stringing out behind, and +little figures running about their decks, winding in nets, bringing in a +flood of silver fishes. + +The metallic noise of the gulls grew so loud as to blanket all else. In +the midst of this fluttering and shrieking, Leonard heard the shouting +of human voices. He paid little attention. Then some of the men on top +of the dock's side began yelling. At that moment, Caradoc shouted down +Madden's name. Madden looked up. On the instant the swinging platform +under him tipped violently. + +Next moment, Madden saw right beneath him a smack. The vessel was +floating by, and the peak of its boom scraped the high iron wall of the +dock. This boom had struck his platform. + +Madden clutched impotently at the blank iron wall, then flung an arm for +one of the supporting ropes and missed. + +"Jump to me!" yelled Smith. The Englishman was still on the rope ladder, +but had climbed down rapidly when he saw his mate in distress. The boom +was tilting the platform straight up and down. The deck of the smack +below promised to mash the American into a pulp. The fishermen were +shouting. Leonard made a falling leap toward Caradoc's extended hand. He +caught it in both his own. The Englishman's other hand gripped the rope +rung. Unfortunately Madden's body flung out with a twisting motion, and +he could feel Smith's arm grow tense in an effort to keep from being +wrenched. + +Madden was scrambling with his legs for a foothold on the ladder when +the boom dragged past the platform and the whole thing swung back on the +distressed boys. A flying end caught Madden in the side. The blow +sickened him. He clung desperately to Caradoc's hand, his grip +weakening, his senses swimming with the feeling of an awful void beneath +him. The strength in his fingers gave way, and he felt a chill sensation +before the coming downward plunge. But even in his twisted, straining +position, the Englishman's long fingers did not loose Madden's wrist. A +moment later, Leonard had lost consciousness completely, swung in +midair, limp as a bag. + +The American had a dim impression of being drawn to the top of the side +wall, and the crew clustering about him. Someone splashed water in his +face and the world cleared up before his eyes. The young fellow called +Greer was whisking on the water, but when Madden opened his eyes, he set +the bucket down and returned silently to his work. + +"There, ye're bether now," grinned Hogan stooping over the wounded man. +"That platform caught yez a little love lick in the slats--break any of +'em?" + +Leonard reached across and felt his side. "How came the smack there?" he +inquired weakly. "Why didn't I see it?" + +"Ye was lookin' astern, an' th' vissil barely turned the bow of th' dock +an' her boom kissed us all th' way down. I yilled at ye, so did +Dashalong an' th' silent man. Thin I got so interested in l'arnin' he +could say a worrd, I quit lookin' at you complately." + +"I couldn't hear for the gulls--I'll be all right in a minute." + +Leonard looked around and saw Caradoc massaging his twisted arm. He had +an impulse to thank the Briton, but he changed it to, "I hope your arm +isn't badly wrenched, Smith." + +"Quite all right," assured the tall fellow cheerfully. + +The men began to scatter to work again. + +That day at lunch the ship's fare was garnished with an abundance of +delicious pilchards. The whole crew wore a holiday air. During the +afternoon the men sang at their work and labored so merrily and so well +that a broad wash of paint was added to the outside wall. + +Leonard, whose side was sore enough from the thump, did not work. Even +the mate suggested that he take a leave of absence, and stay in his bunk +if he would. + +The boy went at once to his cabin and began hunting in his suit case for +a little medicine chest which he always carried. He wanted arnica for +his bruised side. To his surprise he could not find it. He gave his bag +a thorough search, tumbling garments, trinkets, souvenirs, curiosities, +helter skelter over his bunk, but failed to find his case. + +The loss of the medical carry-all distressed Madden. It had proved +useful in the past. However, he hunted up the mate and begged a +liniment, which must have had a wonderful virtue if a powerful odor was +any indication. + +Leonard rubbed the stuff on his side and turned into his bunk. His side +grew so sore he wondered whether or not his ribs really were broken +after all. In his dark den he could still hear the gulls wailing, +although the tug had passed the major portion of the shoaling pilchards. +There also came to him the constant creaking of the dock, the slow dull +recurrence of the ground swell against her bow. The boy's mind centered +fretfully on his lost medicine chest. No doubt it was stolen, and he +began wondering which of the crew had taken it. His suspicion played +idly over the crew, and then settled on the youth called Greer. His +reason for this was that Greer said very little. Madden thought this +must be the sign of a guilty conscience. + +He did not brood long, however, as the monotonous sounds exerted a +hypnotic effect on his senses. Once or twice as he was almost falling +asleep, he felt himself clinging desperately to Caradoc's hand, his grip +weakening, the fearsome void gaping under him, then he would awake with +a start that sent a knife of pain through his bruised ribs. After that +he would be forced to feel once more to test his costal region for +broken bones. Finally the vision failed to paint itself, or did not +rouse him, and he slept. + +After an indeterminate interval, he was awakened by someone entering the +room. It was fairly dark now and by lifting a head over the side of his +berth, he saw the outline of the Frenchman standing by the door. Madden +thought of the stolen medicine chest and remained silent. + +The Gaul was about to withdraw when Madden called out. + +"What is it, Deschaillon?" + +"I just came by to say your frien' ees in trouble. Zay play cards in zee +salon. Smeeth he win _beaucoup_. Zay quarrel, perhaps zay fight. He +ees your frien', and--" + +Leonard smiled when he heard the mess hall dignified into a salon; but +at the latter end of the sentence he sat up suddenly in his bunk and +began pulling on his jacket despite the twinges in his side. + +"Eh, how's that--fight?" + +At that instant Hogan lolled against the jamb and announced his entrance +with a laugh. + +"What's this Deschaillon's telling me, Mike--the men fighting over +cards?" + +"Sure now I heard him and told him not to be wakin' a sick man up for +sich trifles. They was a few raymarks ixchanged, but nawthin' ser'us." +He turned reproachfully on the Gaul. "Nixt time be advised by me and +don't be wakin' a sick man for nawthin'." + +The two walked away and Leonard leaned back in his bunk, quite sleepless +now. He stared into the blackness, his mind a moving picture show of the +last three days. The Englishman was chief actor on this stage, and his +disagreeably mixed character puzzled and disturbed the American. +Caradoc's language and manners showed him to be a man of breeding, but +he was full of contradictory habits. His uncosmopolitan moodiness, his +vulgar quarreling over cards, were typical instances. + +Leonard almost regretted that he had formed an uncomfortable intimacy +with the fellow, but he could not very well break it off now since Smith +had saved him from a fall that might easily have proved fatal. + +Just then the Englishman entered the cabin silently. He lighted the +bracket lamp quietly and looked about to satisfy himself that his mate +was asleep. Later Madden heard him open his big kit bag and take +something out. A moment after, the odor of alcohol scented the little +cabin. + +Leonard lifted his head and saw the fellow under the lamp, just lifting +the silver cap to his lips. A disagreeable smile moulded the long face, +wrinkled the nostrils and slid away under the choppy blond mustache. The +strong light from the overhead lamp brought out an almost sinister +countenance. + +The thought that such a man had probably saved his life filled Madden +with a kind of repulsion. He turned in his bunk with a little disgusted +grunt. + +Caradoc dropped the little cap and came to the bunk. + +"Side hurt, old man?" he asked anxiously. + +"Yes--no--nothing the matter." + +"Oh, maybe you don't like this odor--forgot you didn't drink." He +stepped quickly to the kit bag, replaced the bottle and cap inside and +closed it. Like many alcohol users he labored under the delusion that +alcohol was not offensive on his _breath_. + +"Nervous shock you received seemed to upset you more than the punch," he +diagnosed in a concerned voice. "You Americans are a high-strung +nation." He paused a moment philosophically. "I daresay you're right +about not drinking spirits. With your nervous organism, it would set you +on fire. But our foggy English climate and stodgy people call for it. +Sets our pulses going. A thought just here--Climate and Alcoholism. Not +a bad subject for a scientific investigation, is it?" + +Madden grunted. + +"I'll blow out the light unless you'll have me rub some more of that +villainous stuff on your ribs?" + +The patient declined this. + +"Need water or medicine during the night throw your boots at me--I'm +hard to wake," + +Then he puffed out the light. + +[Illustration: Out There Lay Adventure, Mystery--More Than Either +Dreamed.] + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE LAST OF THE _VULCAN_ + + +A temporary rudder had been installed on the unwieldy dry dock, and each +twenty-four hours Mate Malone detailed seven men to stand watch, which +gave the regulation dog watch, although there was no need of it with a +double complement of men. Thanks to his bruised ribs, the American had +thus far escaped duty at the wheel. About a week after the pilchard +incident, he reported ready for this service, when a twist of +circumstance rendered it unnecessary. + +A long stretch of fair weather had been enjoyed by the dock painters on +a steadily dropping barometer. On this particular day a cold puffy wind +developed out of the northeast, bringing with it a rack of clouds and +spreading a choppy sea below. + +From where Madden painted on the corner of the dock, he had a good view +of these chasing waves that rose a moment in the gray seascape, nodded a +white cap, then dropped back into the waste of water. + +"Wonder if a storm would affect this old box much?" he queried of +Caradoc. + +"Probably have a chance to see," opined Smith, looking out with a +speculative eye. "By the by, what's that?" + +Caradoc pointed toward the _Vulcan_, which already exhibited the +motion of the rollers. + +Madden looked. A sailor stood on the tug's round stern waving two flags +toward the dock. + +The American arose from his work, funneled his hands before his lips and +called to the man, but the spitting wind whisked away his words, and the +sailor went on with his flag. + +Madden regarded it attentively a few moments. "He's wig-wagging--wants +to speak to the mate. I'll go for him." He trotted aft. + +Leonard found the officer in his cabin and told his mission. The mate +arose at once and came out with the lad. "Don't know w'ot 'e wants, do +you?" he inquired. + +"I only spelled his message till I found he wanted you." + +"Huh--understand flag signals, do ye?" grunted Malone, shifting his +inflamed eyes to Madden's face. + +"Learned it in my engineering course," explained the lad. + +The two passed on to the bow, when the sailor on the tug starting waving +once more. Mate Malone watched the man until he had finished spelling +out the message, then he turned to Leonard and asked: + +"Know w'ot 'e said?" + +"Parker's sick and they need you," translated the American. + +"Good," grinned the mate with more fellowship than he had ever shown +before. "Now, lookee here, young chap. They're going to send a cutter +for me to come and take Parker's place. You strike me as a decent sort, +so I'll leave you in my berth till I get back. You won't have nothin' to +do hexcept tell off th' watches an' keep th' boys paintin'. Softer'n +your fo'cs'l job, though you won't git no hextra pay--wot about it?" + +"That goes with me," agreed Madden readily. + +"All right, you signal me about anything you don't understand. Make the +men step, lively, same as if you was me." + +By this time the tug had slowed down a trifle and a boat put out from +her. While it came bobbing over the water, Malone bawled his men +together and briefly explained his transfer of authority. + +"Be back jest as soon as Parker's all right," he said as he climbed from +dock to dancing boat below. "And, by the way, Mr. Madden, you will bunk +in my cabin." + +That "Mister Madden" from the mate was the great seal of authority. The +men looked at him with new eyes. + +Somehow, Malone's confidence pleased Madden. That uncouth, bullet-headed +officer had not spent his whole life on the high seas, belaboring all +classes of men into serviceableness, without being able to judge the +genus homo pretty shrewdly. + +The navvies accepted the new officer in stolid submission, but Hogan +clapped his hands. "Hey, a spache fr-rom th' new boss!" he grinned. + +Leonard laughed. "My speech is to get back to work, and I'll do the +same," said the boy, returning to his bucket. + +This appealed to the cockneys, who gave a dull English cheer, and then +everybody settled back to their tasks once more. + +"What's the use in your painting, Madden?" asked Caradoc, "You don't +have to." + +Leonard was amused, "They tell me a chap whose work is no bigger than +his contract, never gets a contract for bigger work." + +"What's that?" frowned Smith. "That sounds like Yankee smartness to +me--seems to make a great deal more sense than it really does." + +"Anyway, I don't want to rat on you fellows, just because Malone left me +in charge for a day or so." + +Caradoc made no answer, but stared after the rowboat which was just +rounding into the tug. "If I'd played up to that officer a bit," he +smiled dourly, "I could have had the mate's berth, Madden." + +The American glanced up. The Englishman's smile recalled the look +Leonard had seen under the bracket lamp. + +"Well, there's very little in it for anyone, I'm thinking." + +"Certainly, certainly," Smith shrugged a broad shoulder and the subject +was dismissed. + +The blustery weather increased steadily, and by lunch time the wind was +blowing half a gale. Regiments of waves marched against the dock and +snapped spray high up the red sides. Their constant blows rang through +the big iron structure. A feeling of security came to Madden as he saw +the gray-green waves break white, and yet not shake the huge barge +sufficiently to tip the paint from the men's buckets. Certainly the dock +was monstrous. + +The sea grew rougher as evening wore on and finally the boy went to the +mate's cabin to pick out his men for the night's work. After his own +cramped quarters, Malone's room proved delightful. Three glass ports +admitted light. A table in the center of the room spread over with a +Mercator's projection showed that Malone dutifully pricked the +_Vulcan's_ course on the chart, although it was not required of +him. A sextant and quadrant told the American that the stolid Briton +worked out his own reckonings. The sight of these things filled the boy +with a respect for the uncouth fellow. He understood how doggedly Malone +must have labored to acquire mastery over the instruments of navigation. +Beyond this there were a number of flaring chromos on the walls, a +decanter of wine and glasses in a chest. He found what he was looking for +in the desk drawer, a roll of men checked off for watches. The coming +night was arranged for, but for morning, the names of Heck Mulcher, Ben +Galton and Caradoc Smith stood in order. Madden was just marking these +men when there was a tap at the door. + +Upon call, Gaskin, the cook, entered, bearing a big tray of dishes, "Yer +dinner, sir," he said, very respectfully. + +Madden had not anticipated having the mate's meals served to him, and +for a moment he came near asking the cook if he had not made a mistake; +but the steaming tray and the pleasant odors kept the question unspoken. +Only with this diet before him did he realize that he had been fairly +starving on the poor ship's rations. + +When Gaskin placed the soup on the table, Madden became aware that the +dock was rolling rather heavily, for the liquid spilled over the side of +the plate, while dishes and tureens went coasting up and down the +boards. + +"Getting rough outside," remarked the lad to the servant, who was +lighting a lamp. + +"A bit 'eavier, sir," replied Gaskin self effacingly. + +Madden held the soup plate in his hand for steadiness, and sipped the +hot, satisfying liquid while the great dock rose and fell. The fact that +he was really in command of the vast iron fabric put the American in a +serious humor. He ate dinner slowly, listening to the heavy clang of the +waves against the iron hull, and to the wind whining and sobbing over +the great metal sides. + +When he had finished his meal, the youth arose with the intention of +going to the sailors' mess house to see about the watches. He had no +sooner stuck his head out of the door, however, than a whisk of spray +leaped at him out of the darkness and drove him inside. He was preparing +to venture out again, when Gaskin opened a locker and brought out an +oilskin. + +"Hit'll 'elp you keep dry, sir," holding up the garment. + +Swathed in its folds, Madden made a new start and walked out on the +heaving, shifting pontoon. + +Outside a renewed noise smote his ears. The air was full of flying spume +that whipped in through the stern of the dock. Malone had planked up +this open gateway to a height of thirty feet, which made it forty-two +feet above the salt water line, but the spray already leaped this +barrier and pelted throughout the dark heavy iron canyon. + +The dock was made in three huge sections, in order that it might be +self-docking when fouled. Now in the darkness, the groaning of these +joints smote the blustering gale in a sort of vast distress. The many +iron stanchions for the shoring of vessels began thrumming a devil's +tattoo against the high iron walls, like a myriad giant fingers. + +In the corners of the bow pontoon, Madden could see the signal lights +heaving and dropping with the motion of the vast fabric. Now and then he +caught a glimmer of the tug's light, and its erratic motions told how +the staunch little vessel fared. + +There was a faint radiance around the shut door of the mess hall, and +Madden walked toward it rather unsteadily, with the spumy brine dashing +into his face. + +A signal lantern was attached to one of the shoring stanchions near the +mess hall, and as Madden moved into its dull glow, another bundled form +entered from the other side. The figure stopped and saluted. + +"If you please, sor," he bawled in Madden's ear, "th' nixt watch is +sick." + +"Sick! The whole watch sick? What do you mean, Mike?" + +The Irishman grinned in the dim light, "Yis, sor, they're in their bunks +wishin' to die. They've niver been in a blow before. It's say-sick they +ar-re." + +Both men were holding to the stanchion. + +"Seasick!" ejaculated Madden. "How about Heck Mulcher and Ben Galton?" +he recalled the names on the list. + +"The whole sit of navvies, sor, ar-re down on their backs, not carin' at +all, at all, whether we float, sink, swim, or go to Davy Jones' locker." + +"Well, Caradoc's next--come with me." + +They took hold of each other and went sliding and slipping along the +iron deck, now skating down hill, now climbing a sharp tilt, shoulders +hunched against the gusty spume, until they reached Smith's little cabin +past the mess hall. Here they paused and rapped on the door. As this +could not have been heard inside for the wind and the waves and the +groaning of the dock, they pushed open the shutter. + +Madden no sooner entered than his nostrils caught a pervading odor of +alcohol. The Englishman's long figure lounged fully dressed on a bunk; a +demijohn was jammed behind his kit bag to keep it from rolling. + +"Smith!" called Madden, "I'll have to ask you to stand watch to-night; +nearly all the navvies are sick." + +Caradoc lifted his head from the bunk and blinked at the two men in the +door. "What?" he asked vacantly. + +"You're to stand watch to-night," Madden raised his voice. + +"Stand watch!" cried the Englishman, sitting up, his face flushing +darkly under the bracket lamp. "You _have_ turned master, haven't +you--bootlicker ordering me to stand watch!" + +"It's your turn on the list!" commanded Madden brusquely, with +ill-concealed disgust that Smith should be maudlin just when needed. + +"My turn--Bah! I'd have been mate myself if I had toadied and flattered +that upstart Malone as you did!" He laughed sarcastically. "Then I could +have had decent dinners, been wearing the mate's sou'wester, been--" + +"Cut it out!" snapped Madden. "Will you do your duty or not?" + +The dock gave a great lurch that flattened both men against the door, +juggled Caradoc in his berth and sent kit bag and demijohn sliding +toward the visitors. + +"Not!" bawled Smith. "I, Caradoc Smith-Wentworth, can't think of going +to stand watch for a gang of siz-seasick navvies an' a t-toady American +Yankee--Not!" he reiterated and laughed in tipsy irony. + +A flush of anger went over Madden. He reached down suddenly and caught +up the demijohn. + +"You--you bet' not drink th-that, y-you little bossy Yankee; it-it'll +m-make _you_ d-drunk." + +"You sot!" trembled Madden. "Whiskey will not be your excuse next time!" +He caught the Irishman's arm, "Come on!" And before Smith realized what +had happened, the two men and his liquor were out of the door and gone. + +Madden slammed the shutter viciously, and the tilt of a wave helped give +it a loud bang. Then he gave the jug a wrathful swing and smashed it +against the nearest stanchion. + +"Smith'll have some sense when he can't get any more," he shouted in +Hogan's ear. Then after a moment, "Is there nobody else to take the +watch?" + +"There's Dashalong, sir," bellowed Mike, "but he stood last night." + +"How about you?" inquired Leonard. + +"All roight." The Celt was about to turn for the high bridge at the +stern, when Madden stopped him. + +"When was your last watch, Mike?" + +"This afternoon, sor." + +"When did Greer stand watch?" + +"He's niver told anywan, sor; I think it must be a saycret." + +"Get to your cabin and turn in," directed Madden. "I'll take it myself +till midnight, eight bells. Then send Greer." + +Hogan saluted in the darkness and turned about for his cabin. Madden +began a careful journey aft toward the wheel. + +He fought his way to the ladder and climbed up into the night, sometimes +clinging like a fly to the underside of the reeling wall, sometimes +going up a steep slant. Gusts of spume and foam whipped him all the way +up. Once on top of the wall, he clung to the inside rail and began +pulling himself carefully around toward the rear bridge. At this height +the full force of the wind almost tore him from his reeling anchorage. +At last he turned onto the bridge and moved toward the binnacle light. + +"You'll find 'er a little 'ard, sir," remarked the steersman as he +turned over the wheel to Madden. "Good night, sir." + +"Good night," returned the American, and he watched the fellow's form +disappear in the darkness. + +Madden gripped the spokes of the wheel and fell to watching the signal +light in the center of the forward bridge and the stern lantern of the +distant tug. These two plunging spots in the black void of night he must +keep aligned. + +The enormous dock leaped and shivered under his feet. Huge waves roared +by, of such vastness that Madden could hear their crests crashing and +thundering high above the level of the bridge. These moving mountains +shook tons of black water into dim, ghostlike spray, and sent it hissing +down into cavernous troughs. The weight of the wind-swept spume flashing +out of darkness through the binnacle light almost took the boy off his +feet. It pounded his oilskin, stung his face. The enormous iron dock +groaned and clanged under the mad bastinado. The long arms of the +shoring stanchions smote the walls in a kind of terrific anvil chorus to +the blaring orchestra of the tempest. The joints of the three huge +pontoons sounded as if they were being rent asunder every moment. One +minute the great structure would rise dizzily, high into the black +blast, a skyscraper flung up on a mountain Madden could look far below +on the lights of the struggling _Vulcan_. Up there the storm yelled +and screamed at every corner and brace of the weltering dock, and +wrenched at the midget helmsman. Then came the sickening drop, down, +down, down, into the profound, and the _Vulcan_ would swing far +above her towering consort. For the instant the storm would be blanketed +by the prodigious waves. Wild, formless ghosts of foam would stretch +wide arms about the falling dock as if they were clasping it into the +lowest crypts of the dead, and the night would be filled with a vast and +dreadful whispering. + +For hours it seemed that every ascent, every descent, must mark the end. +But the storm was so terrific, Madden's sense of personal fear was +blotted out in the tremendous conflict about him. Indeed, there was +something deeply moving, almost gratifying in this elemental rage. Then +he discovered that he was taking a part in it. Mechanically he had been +straining and pulling at the wheel to hold those signal lights in line. +Now he realized that his tiny human force formed a third contender in +this vast battle. As he eased the great dock down the rushing sheer of a +wave so the shock would not break the straining cable, he had won a +point over two violent antagonists. His puny arm, that could raise +perhaps two hundred pounds, was lifted against enemies that could fling +about billions of tons. Without his force, tug and dock would part +company instantly. Each watery mountain that he climbed, each gulf that +he fathomed, was a victory over infinite odds. + +However, if the man worked with subtlety, the sea likewise worked with +subtlety. As the long hours of Madden's watch roared by, one thing was +borne in on the youth: the rudder gradually was becoming harder to +manage. Madden thought this was caused by the rising storm and strained +more rigidly against the wheel. + +Then, in the latter part of his vigil, an odd thing happened. A blast of +spray struck Madden with some slimy thing that whipped about his neck +and chest and almost tore him from the wheel. With convulsive +repugnance, he jerked it loose and held the clammy stuff toward the +binnacle light. He saw it was seaweed. Presently more strands came +beating down on the spume to sting him. + +The youth was crouching in his oilskins for protection, when he was +surprised by a hand laid on his arm. He looked around and saw it was +Deschaillon and the silent Farnol Greer. + +"Eet makes bad weather," remarked the Frenchman, peering at the dark +rolling Alps about the dock. + +"Good thing both of you came," shouted Madden, turning the tiller over +to the men. "It's as stiff as cold molasses--how are the sick ones?" + +The boy saw Deschaillon grin and twirl his pointed mustache in the faint +illumination. "Zay are very numerous," he laughed. But the Gaul had no +sooner swung his weight against the wheel than his grimace vanished. + +"Parbleu! Here, Greer, pull zis wheel with me!" + +The two men caught the spokes and set their weight to it. Greer remained +silent. + +"Zis ees bad!" exclaimed Deschaillon. "Zis wheel will not go around!" + +"What's the matter, do you think?" cried Leonard. + +"Zee gear ees clogged, I think me." + +"Go get a lantern and some men, Hogan--anybody who isn't lifeless. We've +got to do something!" + +The Frenchman obeyed, hurrying off into the darkness. Leonard resumed +his place at the wheel with Greer to aid him. But both men could not +swing the big dock around. The tiller was growing utterly unmanageable. +Nearly every dash of foam brought with it biting bits of seaweed now. +The silent Greer endured the whipping without wincing or speaking. Even +in the midst of their work, Leonard found time to wonder why this fellow +had stolen his medicine chest. + +Presently the two helmsmen could barely turn the wheel. Madden could +feel the jerking of the cable even through the great mass of pitching +iron. Then the wheel clamped viselike. The dock's headlight and the +intermittent glow of the tug teetered, swung out of line, crossed each +other, like dancing fires. In a sort of panic, the two strained at the +solid wheel. A huger wave came roaring by, flung the enormous square +prow high in air. As it fell off with a shock, Madden felt a little +quiver pass over the lumbering pontoons. The dock ceased taking the +upheaved water with her slow, constant, aggressive movement. + +The cable had parted! + +Madden wondered dully what sort of cataclysm had occurred on the little +tug at that tremendous strain. + +Both men still hung to the hand-grips on the useless wheel as the dock +rose and dropped, thundered and groaned. Now and then from the +storm-swept wave tops Madden could catch the glimmer of the +_Vulcan's_ light. This slipped farther and farther into the void, +heaving night, then he saw it no more. + +A sense of vast desolation swept over the American, and he was still +staring into the black pandemonium ahead when Deschaillon, Hogan and a +third man came struggling toward him. + +"You may go back!" he yelled wearily above the uproar. "Go back--there's +nothing to do. The cable's broke--the _Vulcan_ is gone." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AN INTERRUPTED MEETING + + +Convinced that there was nothing else to be done on the big dock, Madden +went to his cabin, threw himself on the bunk, and there tumbled and +tossed through the stormy night, sleeping brokenly and dreaming of the +missing _Vulcan_. + +Finally a bleary dawn whitened his cabin ports and the lad scrambled +into damp clothes, picked up the mate's battered telescope and went on +deck. + +He fully expected to see the _Vulcan_ lying close by, but as he +glanced around in the dull light, an extraordinary scene shunted all +thoughts of the tug from his mind. The wind had lulled, but there still +rolled high a most unusual ocean. As far as he could see moved a long +solemn procession of hills covered with splotches and serpentine lines +of grays, olives, yellows--an ocean in motley. The great waves wove +these sinuous markings up and down, in and out, confusing the eye with +changing mazes. + +Madden went forward and studied the nearer formations under the dock's +prow. This astonishing effect was caused by seaweed. It was the seaweed +spray of this seaweed ocean that had whipped him during the night. + +A glance toward the stern of the dock solved the mystery of the balky +steering gear. The temporary sheathing was choked with the slimy stuff. +Tons of it had beaten over into the dock so that there was a week's work +of cleaning ahead. The whole interior of the pontoons looked gutted; +empty kegs, barrels had gone overboard, boats had been washed away, the +big coal pile was scattered like pebbles and some half of it lost. And +one odd trifle gripped Madden's heart--the fresh paint over which the +crew had toiled so patiently looked old and dingy. + +As he studied the scene, two seasick navvies tottered out on deck to +sniff the clean air. They dismally surveyed the traces of the storm. +Then they moved weakly toward the boy, who was now scrutinizing the +horizon with his glass. + +"See any sign of 'er, sir?" asked Galton saluting. + +Madden took down the binoculars. "Not a trace--feel better?" + +"Some better, sir, but my stomach is still like th' hocean, sir, a bit +unsettled. May I arsk where we are, sir? I never saw such streaky water +before." + +"Sargasso Sea," replied Leonard. + +Galton grunted and stared at the spangled waves. Under its load of +seaweed, the sea was falling rapidly, and presently other seasick +navvies came on deck. A dismal lot they made, pasty and sick and +draggled. + +"You fellows that are able," Madden addressed the group, "get buckets +and shovels and pile up that scattered coal. The exercise will make you +feel better. When the sea is smoother, we'll rig a jury mast on the +forward bridge for a signal." + +A few of the men were still too sick, but most of the crowd shuffled off +to work. Some of the laborers drew off their pea jackets as they went, +for the murky day was filled with a rising humid warmth. + +Coal piling was just getting under way in the heaving dock, when the +door to Caradoc's cabin swung open and the Englishman stepped out. + +A glance at the tall fellow told Madden how he fared. The narrow-set +eyes were inflamed, the long bronze face had lost firmness and seemed +inclined to sag in lines. + +"Smith," called Madden friendlily, "you may help pile coal if you feel +like it." + +"I--that demijohn that you took last night," began the Briton nervously. + +"Yes," Madden became serious. + +"I want it, if you please." + +Madden looked at the unstrung fellow. "Can't get it, Smith; you've had +too much already." + +"Can't get my own property?" demanded Caradoc, raising his voice so all +the men could hear. + +"No," snapped Madden, "you know sailors are not allowed to keep liquor +in their dunnage." + +"That's my demijohn and I'll----" + +"I smashed it, and the pieces washed overboard long ago." + +"Overboard!" cried the big fellow. He turned hot eyes seaward as if +searching the waters, then for the first time noticed the fantastic +ocean around him. He stared at it with a strange expression. + +"What--what is that--where are we, Madden?" he asked with a catch in +his breath. + +The fellow's tremulous condition touched the American. "Tug broke away +last night--we're adrift in the Sargasso." + +A look of relief came over the long face, but he still gazed at the +serpentine patternings. "I--I thought I was seeing--ugh, isn't it +horrible!" + +"You're unstrung, Caradoc; better go lie down," suggested Madden in +considerate tones. + +The mood of the Briton underwent a characteristic quick shift. "Me lie +down?" he rasped. "I'll have my property. You're grabbing authority fast +enough, but you'll learn Englishmen don't submit to impositions. Threw +it overboard!" he laughed with sour incredulity. "Bet you have it in +your cabin." + +The men stopped work, gaping at the insubordination. Madden flushed +under the implication. He stepped forward to smash the long insolent +face and white mustache, but it was plain the Englishman was on the +verge of a nervous breakdown. + +Madden caught himself, stood drawing short breaths through expanded +nostrils. "Go to your bunk, Caradoc, and wait till you're sane," he +ordered in fairly even tones, then turned abruptly, leaving the big +fellow scowling and biting his choppy mustache. + +The navvies turned back to their work, distinctly disappointed; they had +expected a fight. + +Within the next few days the crew dropped into the routine of derelict +life. When the sky cleared and the sea flattened, it left the big dock +amid breathless heat beneath a molten tropical sky. + +As far as the eye could reach, the castaways saw no signs of life, not a +sail, not a smoke, not a gull, not even the ripple of a wave; nothing +but gaudy, motionless markings from one flat horizon to the other, dead +traceries that swiftly became uninteresting, then monotonous, then +disagreeable, then maddening in the aching eyes of the crew. + +As much for the mental health of the men as anything else, Leonard +worked them steadily. The day's work was divided into morning and +evening watches, because during the midday the iron barge reached a +temperature where labor was impossible. During the cooler watches, the +men painted desperately to cover the black expanse of the dock with red +in order to reflect part of the palpitating heat rays. + +Through the idle noon periods, the crew lay about on gunny sacks under +improvised awnings, with a man posted on the forward bridge as lookout. + +The colorful mazes of the Sargasso were as irritating as flowered wall +paper in a sickroom. Even Hogan's and Deschaillon's spirits sagged under +the brilliant sweltering sameness. The navvies moved about half naked, +and burned brown as nuts. The men fought over trifles. Caradoc became a +raw mass of nerves. Once or twice Madden attempted to make things +pleasanter for his former friend, but was repulsed rabidly. + +Near sunset one day, the American was in the mate's cabin trying to work +out his daily reckoning. According to the lad's inexpert calculations, +the dock was drifting southeast at the rate of some six or seven miles +each day. The dock was a prisoner in that vast central swirl between the +North and South Atlantic, that was swinging in stagnating circles when +Columbus sailed for the new world; it lay exactly the same when the +Norsemen beat down the coasts of Europe; it would continue as long as +Africa, Europe, and the Americas deflected ocean currents to produce its +motion. Its vast flaring dial was the clock of the world, marking the +passing ages. In all that stretch of time the Sargasso must have +received strange prey, triremes, caravels, galleons, schooners, men o' +war, derelicts ancient and modern, but certainly never before had the +art of man placed such a colossal and extraordinary fabric within its +swing. + +Some such thoughts as these passed through Madden's mind as he pursued +his reckoning through trigonometric tables. The light fell redder and +dimmer through the ports and he hurried to finish his work before +darkness required a lamp in the steamy cabin. A furnace-like breath, +laden with malodorous ship smells, drifted in upon him. Madden's thin +undershirt clung sweatily to the muscular ridges down his back and +moulded the graceful deltoid at the shoulder. + +Madden pushed back his figures as Gaskin entered with a tray. The cook's +face was scarlet and dripping. + +"How much provisions have we on board, Gaskin?" + +"Another month's supplies, sir--most of the stores was on the +_Vulcan_, sir." Gaskin was dignified even in the heat. + +Leonard turned to his map showing the drift of the dock; she was +swinging farther and farther out of the trade routes every day. The +probability of a rescue steadily decreased. + +"In the future, Gaskin, cut rations one third." + +The cook covertly swabbed his fat jowl. "Yes, sir--are we about to--" he +checked his question. "Yes, sir," he agreed instead. + +"Yes," said Leonard, answering the half question, "it's a very necessary +precaution, and I hope this small reduction will be sufficient." + +"Thankee very much, sir." Gaskin made a little bob and withdrew +ceremoniously. Madden knew that Gaskin would continue to bob and thank +as long as he had strength to do either. + +Reducing the rations was not a sudden impulse with Madden. Ever since +the first expectation of the _Vulcan's_ return had lost its +immediate edge, the American knew that the hope of final rescue depended +upon conserving their food supply. + +The Sargasso Sea is a great oblong whorl in the Atlantic some four +hundred miles wide and fifteen hundred long. Trade routes cut along its +northern boundaries, and skirt its southwestern boundary. The dock might +very well traverse two thousand miles without seeing a sail. At a rate +of six miles a day, it would take eleven months to reach waters in which +a rescue might be hoped. + +In the meantime, the men grew more and more intractable and +insubordinate. That day, when Madden had ordered Heck Mulcher to paint +in a certain place, the navvy had grumbled out a "That's all very well +for you, sir," and the rest was lost in a mutter. + +The uncertain discipline of his men made Madden hesitate to cut the +rations more decidedly. He felt that his command was questioned by the +sailors. + +As the boy gloomily dispatched his own supper, his ear caught a faint +persistent tapping on the iron wall which faced the mate's cabin. At +first he paid no attention to it, assuming it was the contraction of the +iron in the cooling temperature of the oncoming night that made the +popping. But as he ate it was at last borne in that these taps came in +the irregular but orderly sequence of a telegraphic code. + +With this thought in mind, he listened attentively. In his work as +engineer he had had occasion to study up Morse in heliographing. + +It proved one of the most senseless messages the boy had ever +translated: + +"Tiny arm, men plan mu." Then it was repeated, "Tiny arm, men plan mu." +This odd sentence was retapped four or five times and at last ceased. It +was perhaps some beginner learning the code, but who in that crew could +be working out the telegraphic code? Leonard thought over the men, one +by one, but struck nobody who appealed to him as an incipient +telegrapher. + +The American continued thinking over the incident idly, the odd time the +telegrapher had chosen to practice his art, the queer message he had +rapped out, when suddenly the message whirled around in his mind, and he +perceived he had begun listening in the middle of a very alarming +sentence, and had been reading from one middle to the next. The message +was: "Men plan mutiny--Arm!" "Men plan mutiny--Arm!" + +Madden got to his feet with nervous quickness, and stood listening +intently. The question of who sent the message now became of sharp +importance. If the men planned mutiny, he could rely upon the +telegrapher--perhaps. + +There was still enough light in the steamy cabin to discern objects. The +American began rummaging through table drawers, lockers and racks for +some effective weapon, preferably a revolver. + +At that moment he heard footsteps approaching his cabin door. An instant +later the shutter swung open without the formality of a knock and two +dark figures entered. + +"Well?" inquired the American sharply. + +"It's us!" put in two voices at once. + +"What do you want?" + +"It's a bit of a disthurbance, Mister Madden, that's----" + +"Zat Smeeth," put in a pinched French accent excitedly, "he says zare +ees no mate, zat you----" + +"Be quiet, Dashalong; th' gintilman can't understhand yer brogue. Smith +siz ye have no authority by rights; that we should run things as we +plaze; that th' bhoys should have all they want to ate; that we should +have rum with aitch male, sor." + +"And have you two fellows come to get these things?" inquired Leonard in +a hard voice. + +"No, no, no," trilled out Deschaillon. "Eem-possible!" + +"We sthrolled around to till ye, and bide wid ye a bit, and whiniver th' +romp starts, me and Dash here ar-re going to swing partners, eh, Dash?" + +"Oh, beg pardon," apologized Leonard frankly, "but I had just been +warned and I was looking for trouble--" + +"Thot's all r-right, Misther Madden. We ar-re wid ye. I am always for +law and ordher, Misther Madden, aven whin I am most disordherly," + +"That ees true, he ees," nodded Deschaillon. + +"And I always fight on th' wakest side no matther whether it's roight or +wrong." + +"Hogan ees a chevalier, no matter eef he does have to paint," +corroborated the Frenchman. + +"Are all the other boys in with Smith?" + +"In with him, sor? Fr-rum th' way they stick around him ye'd think he +was a long-lost rilitive come back wid a million pounds." + +"I'm glad you fellows are with me, Mike. I was just looking for a gun, +but if you'll stand by me--" + +"Oh, don't pull a pistol, Misther Madden. A man who would pull a gun in +a free-for-all--why he would smash th' fiddles at a dance." + +"As you deed not fight zee day Smeeth said you stole zee whiskey, zee +men--" + +"Think ye'll be aisy," finished Hogan. + +"I've just ordered a change in diet," observed Madden dryly. + +"Oh, thin ye're goin' to give in to th' spalpeens?" + +"No, I've cut rations one-third--and that goes!" There was a finality +about the dictum that reassured his allies. + +"Uh-huh, Dashalong, I towld ye Misther Madden wasn't no----" + +The sentence was interrupted by more feet approaching outside, then a +heavy knocking at the door. The two men automatically moved over to +Madden's side and faced the entrance. + +"Light a lamp, Deschaillon," directed Madden crisply, + +"Yis, two of 'em--I want to watch 'em fall out o' th' tail o' me eye." + +The Frenchman struck a match for his task. Madden invited the men to +enter. + +The whole crew came through the door in an orderly but somewhat +embarrassed manner. A few of the men had on shirts, some undershirts, +others were stripped to the waist, their torsos shining with moisture, +Deschaillon's hand trembled slightly as he lighted two bracket lamps, +Hogan's little eyes sparkled in anticipation. + +"What is it, Galton?" Madden picked out the nearest man bruskly. + +Gallon shuffled his bare feet on the hot boards. "We hev been thinkin'," +he began in a throaty cockney voice, "that since ye was not mate to +begin with----" he looked back over the crowd toward the real leader, +Caradoc, for moral support. + +The men gave Smith an opening toward the American. In the oppressive +heat of the crowded, lamp-lit room everyone was crimson and dripping +except Caradoc, whose face was curiously bloodless beneath its sunburn. + +"If you are spokesman, Smith, what do you want?" demanded Leonard with +rising inflection. + +"We are all workmen together," began Caradoc with an obvious effort, +panting in the heat. "We're working together, living together, roasting +together in this awful furnace. Your authority was only meant for a few +days. Now the _Vulcan_ is gone. Nobody knows for how long. We think +all men should share and share alike." + +"All this demonstration to tell me you want me to eat at the regular +mess?" + +"No," quivered Caradoc, "it's not just eating. We are not pigs. We want +a hand in running things, and we want a portion of rum served at meals, +as every decent ship allows. We want--" + +"Oh, so it's drink, not eating," satirized Madden. + +"Rum's our right as sailormen," mumbled Galton. + +"Rum in this climate?" Ridicule tinctured the American's tone. "Smith, I +believe you once proposed to write an article on Climate and +Alcoholism." He turned to the men. "Do you fellows want to build a fire +inside yourselves when your lungs and hearts are strained to breaking +already?" + +"It cools you off in hot weather," answered a voice in the crowd. + +"Cools nothing! It heats you up." He leaned forward and tapped the table +decisively at each word, "It won't be served, y'understand!" His last +tap was a thump. "I'm boss here--no rum! And I'll tell you right now, +I'm going to cut your rations one-third, too--hear? Now, get out, all +of you--move out o' my cabin!" + +There was a shuffling among the navvies toward the arrowy lad who +confronted them. Deschaillon balanced himself on one leg, French boxing +fashion, ready to kick out with the deadly accuracy of an ostrich. Hogan +gave a brief happy laugh, broken by his jump, the crack of his fist +against some jaw and the stumbling of a man. + +As the fight flamed down the sweating line, Farnol Greer suddenly rushed +through the door. "This is mutiny!" he shouted aloud. "Every man-jack +will hang for it by the ship's articles! I'm for you, Mr. Madden!" and +he made a surprising assault from the rear. + +Madden and Caradoc squared away at each other. The Englishman headed his +men, his long face sinister in the lamplight. But he had hardly taken a +step when an absolute pallor whitened his countenance, he halted, +shaking, gasping, then flung back an arm to Galton. + +"I--I'm fizzled out!" he stammered with twitching lips. "Go +ahead--fight!" + +"You'll hang--you'll hang for it!" bawled Greer, mauling at the men +behind. + +Caradoc crumpled down on the floor. The navvies, with an English dread +of legal authority, hesitated, thinking perhaps Caradoc had deserted +them purposely to clear his own skirts in the mutiny. + +Madden instantly caught up the loose ends of his raveling authority. + +"Lay him on the bunk, Galton!" he commanded. + +Galton obeyed instinctively, half carrying the long sagging form to the +bunk. + +"Hogan!" he thundered at the cyclone on his right, "you and Mulcher stop +that! Stop it, Mulcher!" he turned to some of the men. "Part 'em there! +Stop 'em!" + +Six navvies, three to the man, jumped and grabbed the combatants. + +"Just look, will you?" Madden pointed to Caradoc on the bunk. "You fools +have followed a man half mad with a sunstroke! He has blown his nerves +all to pieces with a rum bottle, and you bunch of mush-heads have +mutinied to give him more rum so he could finish the job!" + +The leaderless insurgents stared at Caradoc's still form, then began +filing out of the cabin. + +"Deschaillon, get that medicine chest out of my bag!" + +The Frenchman moved toward the bag indicated, when Madden remembered. + +"Here, come back, every one of you!" he cried. + +The mutineers flowed in again, entirely subdued now. + +Madden was loosening what few clothes Smith wore. He twisted about, +facing the crew. + +"Some of you fellows stole my medicine chest," he accused boldly. "I +want it! The man who has it bring it here!" + +The men stood very still, looking from one to the other uneasily. + +"Listen, men," repeated Leonard intensely, "I've got to have +it--understand? I don't mind your stealing it. I won't say a word to you +about that, but I'll manhandle the scoundrel that's keeping it now!" + +There was a growled chorus of protests. Madden quivered at his impotence +to put his hand on the thief in the crowd. + +One of the navvies caught the expression on Madden's face, and blurted, +"If I 'ad it, I'd bring it back--'onest!" + +Leonard suddenly recalled his suspicions. He looked at Farnol Greer, +whose timely shouting and attack had practically quelled the rising. For +a moment Madden's old friendship for Smith and his new gratitude for +this silent unknown youth struggled, then he said: + +"Greer, do you know anything about that chest?" + +A look of blank surprise, then indignation went over Greer's heavy +serious face, then he said bitingly: + +"You sure stand by your pal, all right," and moved out of the cabin +without another word. + +Caradoc lay dry and burning on the hot bunk, his big hands pressed to +his forehead, eyes clenched shut. + +"I don't know what to do!" cried Madden miserably. "Hogan, Deschaillon, +for God's sake, if you know anything about that medicine chest, tell +me--I'm not accusing anybody!" + +"Sure, sure," cried Hogan sympathetically, "Oi'm sorry Oi ain't got it. +If Oi only had me chance again I'd stole it long ago!" + +"I'm sorree, but I never stole eet either, Meester Madden." + +"If I only had bromide!" growled the American, watching Smith's broad +hairy chest lift and drop in short breaths. + +The Englishman opened his hot red eyes. "What's that to you, Madden?" he +asked thickly. The choppy white mustache pulled down in a sneer. "I +might as well die now--I'm nothing but a remittance man. A remittance +man," he repeated the term with mingled self contempt and bravado. "My +people have shipped me--flung me away, broken, no use," he flung out a +long hot hand at Madden. "Why do you try to pick up the pieces?" He +laughed thickly, which sent wild pains through his head and stopped him +suddenly. + +Madden stared penetratingly at this outbreak. + +"Pour water over him, Deschaillon, Hogan," commanded the American +briefly. + +As his two helpers hurried out after buckets, Leonard came close to the +sufferer. + +"Where is it?" he asked shortly. + +"Where--what?" + +Madden stooped over him. "Where's that medicine chest? What did you do +with it? You wouldn't have started that tirade unless you had it." + +"You Americans--very keen," panted Caradoc in the midst of his rackings. +"Think you're d-deuced smart--it's in my bag's lining--there was some +alcohol in it, so I took it--let it go--don't do anything--for--me." + +Deschaillon entered with a bucket of seawater. They stretched the sick +man on the floor, and a moment later, the Englishman shuddered under the +deluge. + +"This ought to be an ice pack," observed Madden, then: "I believe I +remember laying that medicine case in my old cabin; I'll see," and he +walked out of the mate's room into the darkness. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +SAIL HO! + + +Caradoc lay stretched out in a deck chair, on top of the broad wall of +the dock, a cool dawn breeze playing over him. He looked across the +motley sea toward an opalescent sky reddening in the east. + +"No," replied Madden without great interest, from his seat on the rail, +"I've no idea what you mean by a 'remittance man.'" + +The Englishman's eyes strayed wearily from the limpid dawn to the tiny +image of a lion couchant on a small blue enameled shield which he used +as a watch fob. + +"Among the English--" He paused and began again: "Among a certain class +of English families," he proceeded in an impersonal tone, "when a member +goes hopelessly astray, that member is sent abroad to travel +indefinitely. Remittances are forwarded to him from place to place, +wherever he wishes to go, but--" there was a scarcely noticeable +pause--"he can't come back to England any more." + +"O-o-h!" dragged out Madden in a low voice, comprehending the man before +him for the first time. + +"So they are called remittance men--always remitted to." Caradoc's long +fever-worn face, that was filling out in convalescence, colored +momentarily. + +"So that's what you were," said the American after a pause; "a +remittance man, simply drifting over the face of the earth, supported by +your family, boozing your life away, and always longing to see England +again?" + +"You can put things so raw, Madden," responded Caradoc with a ghost of a +smile. "I _am_, not _were_." + +"_Were_," insisted the American quickly. "Before your collapse you +were a confirmed alcoholic, but you are slightly different now. Your +eight days of fever, when Hogan and I had to hold you in bed, must have +burned you out, cleaned up your whole system. You are nearer normal now +than you were. You have a fresh start. It's up to you what you do with +it." + +The Englishman looked at his friend with a sort of slow surprise on his +face. "I hadn't noticed it, but I don't believe I do crave drink as +keenly." + +"No, sickness is often not so bad a thing as folks think. It is nature's +way of putting us right. Sometimes," he added thoughtfully, "we crumple +up in the process, but we can hardly blame the old lady for that." + +"You're an odd fellow, Madden," laughed Caradoc, getting slowly out of +his chair and stretching his arms. "Well, for some reason or other, I +feel fine this morning--let's take a constitutional around the dock." + +The young men walked off, side by side, and began the circuit of the +dock's quarter-mile outline. The breeze was such a rarity in the +becalmed region that the two paused now and then to take long grateful +breaths, and to watch the little wind waves ripple the glassy Sargasso +lanes. + +As they walked, navvies came out with buckets brushes and set to work +painting the maze of iron stanchions that lined the long interior of the +dock. + +"I'm afraid I'll have to stop that painting," remarked Leonard after +watching them a moment. + +"They'll be very glad of it--but why?" + +"It consumes too much energy. The men can live on less if they quit +work." + +"Oh, I see." + +"I think I shall have to cut their food down to half rations. We've been +adrift nearly sixteen days now and not a smoke plume from the +_Vulcan_. She has lost us--if she didn't founder." + +"Any chance of meeting some other vessel?" + +"Here in the ocean's graveyard?" + +"Are we far in?" inquired Smith with rising concern. + +"Close to three hundred miles, and getting deeper every day." + +The two walked on mechanically, with the precise step of those who seek +exercise. The rim of the sun cut the edge of the ocean and a long trail +of light made the east difficult for their eyes. + +"Any danger of starving?" questioned Caradoc, staring moth-like at the +blinding disc of flame. + +"Perhaps not," meditated Madden. "I've been thinking about it. As a last +resort this seaweed is edible, at any rate certain species of it. The +Chinese and Japanese eat it, but that isn't much of a recommendation to +a European. Then the water is full of fish that come to nibble at the +stuff." + +Caradoc was obviously inattentive to this consoling information. "Yes," +he murmured politely, "Japanese do nibble at the fish." + +Madden looked around at his abstracted friend, who was still staring +into the molten sunrise. + +"When the Japanese come to nibble at the fish, we might get some food +from them," suggested Madden with American delight in the ridiculous. + +"Perhaps so." + +"And fans, parasols, and little ivory curios--souvenirs of the Sargasso, +when we roll up the dock and take it home." + +Smith nodded soberly, still gazing. + +"What are you looking at, Caradoc?" laughed the American. + +"I say, Madden, just look at that sun, will you? I thought I saw a +little black fleck against it straightaway to the east right down on the +horizon." + +"You're injuring your sight, that's all," the American was still +smiling. "You know black specks will dance before your eyes if you stare +at the sun too long." + +"But this was shaped like a sail," persisted Smith, staring again. + +"Illusion," diagnosed Madden promptly, but his eyes followed Caradoc's +eastward nevertheless. + +As far as his sight could reach up the golden path, he saw the black +markings of seaweed; then his vision became lost in a mist of +illumination. However, in this region, he could distinguish things dimly +and in flashes. + +Presently, in one of these clear instants, he saw flashed, like the +single film of a moving picture, the tiny black silhouette of a ship's +sail against the dazzling east. Next moment it was lost in light. + +"I told you!" cried Caradoc, getting his friend's expression. "It's +there! We've both seen it! A ship, Madden!" + +Then he turned with more strength than Madden thought was in him. "Sail +ho, men!" he sang out. "A sail!" + +"Come up, fellows, and take a look!" chimed in Madden just as eagerly. +"We believe we see a sail!" + +The crew dropped work at once, and came climbing the ladder up the deep +side of the canyon like a string of monkeys; then they came running +across the red decking. + +"Where?" "Wot direction?" "Where ees eet?" came a chorus of inquiries. + +The two were pointing and soon the whole crew was lined up staring into +the brilliance. Their fresh eyes caught the glimpse immediately and held +it long enough to make sure. + +"A sail!" "There she is!" "Oi see her!" bellowed half a dozen voices. + +The whole crew fell into tense, happy confusion, laughing, staring, +yelling, speculating, slapping backs. + +"Will she see us?" cried someone. + +"Do ye think she'd overlook the whole west half o' th' sea, Galton?" + +"She weel run against us eef she cooms thees way." + +"But she might not know we are in distress?" + +"Disthress, is it ye're sayin'? We're not in disthress, ye loon. This is +th' happiest day o' me loife." + +Leonard turned to the Irishman. "Hogan, go dip that flag on the jury +mast--wiggle it up and down--let 'em know something is wrong--make 'em +think we have the rickets if nothing else." + +Two men ran off with Hogan to the forward bridge; the others stared, +waved, shouted and let their excitement bubble down. + +"But I don't understand a sailing vessel in these waters," speculated +Leonard. + +"Maybe it's a derelick?" surmised Galton. "I've 'card as 'ow this was a +great place for derelicks." + +"'Ow could she be a derelick," argued Mulcher, "w'en she 'as so much +canvas aloft? You run up on derelicks an' git sunk, ever' cove knows +that." + +"I carn't think of hall these things at once!" retorted Galton. + +"Perhaps she ees the _Vulcan_ under sail with deesabled engines?" +suggested Deschaillon. + +This explanation was accepted unanimously and joy broke out afresh. + +"Why sure, th' _Vulcan_, th' good old _Vulcan_! Now, lads, +let's give three cheers and maybe it'll reach 'er!" + +Madden left the men trying to reach her with their bellows and went +below after the mate's binoculars. When he returned the sun had swung up +above the rim of the ocean and the sail was plainly discernible. He +leveled his glasses and his eyes went searching among the distant +markings of seaweed, until it finally rested on the sail. The vessel was +hull down. There was nothing to see except a little canvas stretched +neatly aloft and ship-shape masts and spars. He observed her attentively +for some time. She seemed to be making very little headway. All in all, +Madden made little of the craft, so he handed the glass to Smith. The +Englishman was likewise puzzled, and the binoculars went down the line +of curious men. + +There was something in the way the youth named Farnol Greer handled the +instrument that caused Madden to ask: + +"What do you make out, Greer?" + +"She is lying to, sir. She's backing her tops'ls flat against the +breeze, and her mains'l's reefed and drawing with it." + +"Lying to!" cried three or four voices. "W'ot does she mean by that? +Looks as if she'd be bloomin' glad to get out o' such a bally place as +this!" + +"Let me have another look." Madden resumed the binoculars. + +Now that Madden's attention was called to this unusual disposition of +the sails, he could make out their position for himself. + +This started another tide of speculation buzzing among the castaways. +Was the _Vulcan_ crippled? Had she run short of coal? But why +should she voluntarily lay-to in the very sight of her quarry? + +"They're fishin'," surmised Deschaillon, "off in th' boats fishin'; +they're weethout food also." + +This wild surmise was the only reasonable hypothesis that had been +struck on. Another group of men rushed for the jury mast to show the +fishermen that their presence was desired. At any rate the faint breeze +was very slowly bringing the two vessels together. + +If the men had been heretofore anxious that the cool breeze continue, +now their anxiety was redoubled. At any moment it might die away and +leave the _Vulcan_ stranded beyond communication. In painful +uncertainty, they watched the tug drag her hull slowly into sight, then +slowly eat her way down the long mazy lanes of the Sargasso. + +Then, when she was well in view, Farnol Greer said: + +"She is not the _Vulcan_, sir." + +By this time all the men had their brown faces wrinkled up against the +glare of the sunshine. Now they redoubled their gaze on the distant +vessel. + +"Faith, and sure enough she isn't!" cried Hogan. + +Greer was right; the strange vessel was not the tug. She had a funnel +amidship and two masts, but there her resemblance to the _Vulcan_ +ceased. + +The crew stared, talked, speculated, until the sun swung up like a +white-hot metal ball in the sky, and the quivering heat drove them below +under the awnings. From here they could still view the stranger, but not +to so good advantage. The breeze, by good fortune lasted till deep in +the morning, but finally dropped down in the blanketing heat, with the +unknown craft a good three miles distant. + +The dock's crew could make out no sign of life as they strained their +eyes through the glare of tropical brilliance. The high-lights of the +schooner's reversed topsails and the luminous shadows of her mainsail +stood out vividly against the hot copper sky. The multi-colored markings +of the ocean and the sharp line of the horizon finished a very picture +of pitiless heat. + +The men stood beneath the awning, legs apart, arms held away from +bodies, and stared from under dripping brows for some signs of +recognition from the stranger. + +"'Asn't she got up a single rag to show us she sees us?" puffed Galton, +swiping his hand across his forehead and flinging drops on the iron +deck, where they evaporated the moment they hit. + +"Don't see none," replied the navvy who possessed the binoculars at that +moment. + +"'Ave they any boats?" + +"One cleated down for'ard, one slung on the midship davits, and I think +I make hout one on t'other side past the booby hatch." + +"And not a soul on deck?" + +"Not unless they're settin' on th' fur side o' th' superstructure." + +"Wot would they want to be settin' in th' sun for?" demanded Galton +brusquely. + +"'Ow do I know? If they was Eth'opians, wouldn't they set in th' sun?" + +"This is as clost as we'll ever git," surmised another voice. "The night +breeze'll blow 'er back where she come from." + +"Well, w'ere's that?" demanded Mulcher savagely. + +"Why, Eth'opia, I reckon, if she's got a crew of Eth'opians settin' on +t'other side of 'er superstructure." + +"They ain't a man-jack aboard; and you know it," snarled Galton, "or +'e'd be poppin' 'is eyes hout at such a 'orrible big sight as we must +be." + +"Anyway, I'll bet she blows back w'ere she come from, to-night," +persisted the advocate of this theory. + +The men caviled on at each other endlessly, disputing, denying, +upbraiding, and once in a while coming to blows. + +In order to keep any sort of discipline, Leonard and Caradoc kept to +themselves under a separate awning, for all sea-faring experience has +shown that a separation of officers and men is necessary for the +management of sailors. + +However, Madden heard most of the arguments that went on under the men's +canvas, and he became convinced that the sailor was right; the evening +breeze would carry the schooner away from the dock. He measured the long +distance through the sea lanes from dock to schooner with his eyes. + +"Caradoc," he said to his friend, "if we ever reach that vessel now's +our time." + +"How do you hope to do it?" + +For answer Madden turned to the men. "Mulcher, bring me a life buoy, +will you?" + +Mulcher arose and started on his errand. + +Caradoc stared. "You don't intend to _swim_ that distance--through +this heat?" + +"There's a boat over there, and provisions, perhaps." + +"And the crew?" + +"It is quite possible that they sleep through the day which is utterly +becalmed and make some little headway at night with the slight evening +and morning breezes--it would be a task for a sailing vessel to work +herself out of the Sargasso." + +"Why I never thought of that. I suppose it is possible." + +Mulcher was returning with a buoy. The crew came forward behind the +navvy, on the _qui vive_ over this new undertaking. + +"Faith, and hadn't ye betther sind one o' th' min, sir," suggested +Hogan, "an if he drowns, sir, Oi would take it to be a sign that it's a +dangerous swim." + +"An' the sharks, Meester Madden," warned Deschaillon. + +As Madden kicked off his clothes, he observed Caradoc stripping +likewise. Then Farnol Greer came running down the deck with another buoy +and a big clasp knife. + +The American looked at these fellows. "Caradoc, you can't possibly hold +out that distance; you're weak." + +"I've done ten miles in--at home." + +Greer said nothing, but rapidly undressed. + +All three kept on their hats and undershirts as protection against +sunburn. As Madden walked from the awning through the stinging sun rays, +crimping up his naked feet from the blistering deck, Galton called to +him. + +"If we git a lot of grub, sir, couldn't it be hextra, and carn't we 'ave +a spread to-night, sir?" + +"Something like that," agreed Madden, tossing his buoy into the water. +The two other swimmers followed example, then all three dived off the +twelve foot pontoon toward their floats. They came up shaking the water +from ears and eyes. Madden was immersed in tepid water. His men were +cheering stolidly. The schooner looked very, very far away now that he +was at the surface of the water. Between him and his goal streaked mazes +of sargassum. It suddenly struck the American that he might have trouble +getting through those barriers. + +However, the three swimmers were progressing boldly. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE CUL DE SAC + + +Madden thrust head and shoulders into his float, a round canvas-covered +hoop of cork, and set off at an easy stroke. Now that he was flat on the +water, he could no longer see the lanes of seaweed, and he would be +forced to depend entirely upon signals from the dock. + +Alongside Madden came Greer, and after them Caradoc. Like all Americans, +Leonard gradually increased his energy, and forged ahead at a rate +considerably faster than that required for long distance swimming. Once +or twice Caradoc warned the swimmers to go more slowly, and at each +monition Madden slowed up a trifle, but within a few minutes he would +again speed up unconsciously. + +The three swimmers could form little idea of the rate they were making +in the lifeless sea. At the end of half an hour, when Leonard looked +back at Hogan on the wall for signals, the dock still loomed above him, +a vast glare of red in the dazzling sunshine. It seemed impossible to +get away from it; the featureless red flare followed him as a mountain +peak seems to follow a traveler. + +The sun beat oppressively on his head and blistered his shoulders +through his net undershirt. The warm water soaked the energy out of +limbs and arms. He changed from breast to over-arm stroke, then he +shifted to the crawl and trudgen stroke. + +"Perhaps we'd better rest awhile, sir," suggested Greer, who came +puffing close behind. + +"Beastly hot, this sun," Leonard ducked head and shoulders under water +for relief. His hat floated off and he grudged the slight effort to +retrieve it. + +"How far are we?" + +"Dock looks as close as ever--where's Smith?" + +Greer nodded toward a small head and shoulders bobbing behind a little +white buoy. + +At that moment, they heard the Englishman's voice calling, "To the +right!" + +The boys turned and struck out ahead once more. They regretted having to +leave the straight line. As far as they could see there was no algae in +sight, the water was one glassy blue. And the mysterious schooner, with +its lights and shadows exaggerated in the tropical glare, seemed to the +tired swimmers to be as remote as ever. + +As Madden pressed on and on, changing strokes after the fashion of +tiring swimmers, the constant beat of the sun made his eyeballs ache; +the ocean felt like a Turkish bath; the muscles in his shoulders, back +and legs grew numb, with an occasional cramping twinge. And what +irritated him as much as anything else was the fact that he was swimming +toward the right quarter of the schooner, throwing away his energy. + +Just then Caradoc gave a distant call, "To the left." + +With deep relief, Madden rounded back toward his goal. He had swung +about some unseen cape of algae. He looked back toward the dock. Hogan, +a very tiny figure, held his flag straight up; that meant "dead ahead." + +In relief Madden turned over on his back, laid his hat across his face, +then with hands resting on chest, he began sculling along with knees and +feet. + +He did not know how long he swam in this fashion. Queer ideas drifted +through the lad's mind. He recalled standing on the bridge of the dock +as it went out of the Thames and wondering what would happen. He had +never anticipated anything like this. It seemed that he had been +swimming for days and weeks. He reminded himself of those little kicking +toys that never get anywhere. He felt as if he were a June bug buzzing +helplessly at the end of a string. He kicked, kicked, kicked under the +broiling sun, in the hot water. The sweaty smell of his hat band +disgusted his nostrils. The crown of his hat seemed to coop the heat +over his face, sweat seeped into his closed eyelids and stung his eyes. +He gave his head a little shake. The buoy slipped out and he bobbed +under the tepid water head and ears. + +This jerked him out of his dreamy state. He whirled over, struck to the +surface, spat out brine, blinked his eyes. Somebody was shouting +something in an urgent voice. The noise buzzed in his waterlogged ears. + +"Hey, hello! What is it?" he cried, giving his head a shake and putting +on his hat. + +"School of sharks!" shouted Greer, coming toward his leader at a foamy +speed. + +"School of sharks!" echoed Madden with a sharp thrill. "Where? Which +way?" + +"Must be toward the dock, sir!" panted Greer driving up. + +"Where's Caradoc?" + +"Yonder." He pointed toward a distant twinkle in the water. + +"We must get together--yell to him, warn him!" + +The two lads began a strenuous chorus that further used up their +exhausted strength. Caradoc responded by a wave of his hand. Then when +he understood "sharks" he gathered speed in their direction. + +By this time the dock seemed as far away as the schooner, and was in +reality probably farther. On the wall of the dock, they could see +Hogan's microscopic figure apparently having a fit, against the coppery +sky. No doubt from his height he could make out the monsters. Perhaps +Hogan could see the great fish shooting along with sinister, +exertionless ease toward these clumsy adventurers--a school of trout +striking at three awkward beetles. + +"Hey, Caradoc! Caradoc!" screamed Madden. "Straight for the schooner!" +The American stared around with tense nerves for the little swishes on +the surface that betray the attack of a shark. + +From something near middle distance, the Englishman raised a hand toward +his comrades and motioned them forward. + +"Go on! Go on!" he gasped in a tired voice. "I'll catch you!" + +Indeed, there was little to be gained from waiting. Caradoc moved toward +his friends with a long overhand stroke that gave him the queer +appearance of some huge water bug striding along. Madden and Greer +propelled themselves slowly toward the schooner, waiting for their +friend to close up. They could not keep their eyes off the Englishman. +Every moment they expected to see him jerked under, or they expected to +see a huge shadowy form strike at themselves through the clear green +water. + +Once Madden looked at the dock. Hogan on the rim of the red flaring wall +was flinging out all kinds of despairing gestures. + +By this time Caradoc was in hailing distance. + +"Did you say sharks?" he called out in a dull voice. + +"Yes, sharks!" + +"Where a way?" + +"Don't know!" + +At that moment a trickling thrill went through the American. A long dark +motionless shadow lay in the water straight in front of him. He stopped +swimming suddenly. + +"Stop, Greer! Straight ahead!" he warned in a low tone, easing himself +carefully up on his buoy for a better look. + +By this time the swimmers were nearly together and all three stared +ahead with painful intentness. + +"That dark thing?" inquired Greer in an undertone, + +"Yes, we ought to have a knife apiece." + +"I never saw a shark lying still," panted Caradoc straining his eyes. + +"Say, that's a little streak of seaweed," decided Farnol, beginning to +move toward it. + +Then all three perceived it was merely seaweed. The shark-like illusion +disappeared completely the moment someone doubted it. + +"Who cried out sharks anyway?" demanded Smith of Madden. + +"Greer there warned me--he yelled 'school of sharks.'" + +"Where did you see them?" inquired Caradoc of Farnol. + +"You shouted school of sharks to me yourself," defended Greer. + +"I! I!" puffed Caradoc, whose spurt had blown him badly. "I said nothing +about sharks!" + +"Well, what did you say?" demanded Greer. + +Caradoc thought back fretfully. "I said we were running into a _cul de +sac_." + +"A cool de sock!" repeated Greer with irritation. "What did you want to +say 'cool de sock' for?" + +"I was calling to a gentleman," panted Smith with an edge of temper in +his tone, "and here you've swung us clear off our bearings because you +didn't know a common French phrase----" + +"French! I'm no Frenchman! Why don't you talk English!" + +The two tired, worried, overheated men were rapidly brewing a quarrel, +when Madden interrupted. + +"Look how close we are to that schooner! If somebody would raise another +shark alarm, we'd land plump on her decks." + +"Yes, but this Zulu here has run us straight into a loop of seaweed +it'll take two hours' swimming to get out of--_cul de sac_, school +of sharks! Why the two phrases scarcely resemble each other!" + +Madden turned longing eyes toward the motionless schooner that was not +more than three-quarters of a mile distant. "Say, it's too bad to turn +around and swim away from that vessel!" he lamented wearily, "and this +sun is fierce!" + +"I say let's try going through!" encouraged Greer. + +"It'll be--difficult," warned Caradoc. + +"Won't swimming clear around the earth be difficult?" demanded Greer +hotly. + +"Proceed," agreed Caradoc tersely. "It's all one to me." + +The boys adjusted their floats and once more began their weary labor, +all three disgruntled at the false alarm. As they worked their way +forward, clumps of seaweed, similar to the first they had seen, +thickened in their path. After a long swim in and out, they reached a +point where these floating masses coalesced into an island, or a +continent, that swung far back toward the barge in the segment of a +great semicircle. Fortunately there were still open channels in this +main field, and one of them led toward the schooner. They struck out up +this estuary, which presently became so narrow that they were forced to +travel single file. Occasionally their kicking feet would strike slimy +filaments in the water, but for a while the channel cheered the +swimmers, for they could now see they were making progress toward the +ship. + +Ten minutes later, however, they reached the end, and an inexorable +continent of slime lay between them and their goal. Madden paused in the +last yard of clear water, hung to his buoy, his big biceps flattened on +the canvas cover and slowly blistering in the sun. + +"All right, boys, close up," he panted; "let's stay in helping distance +of each other." + +"Shall we try to take our buoys through, sir?" inquired Greer. + +"We'll start with them." + +"Don't try to use your legs in the weed," warned Caradoc. "Don't kick; +you'll get tangled." + +"We'll experiment and work through the best way we can. If it turns out +too bad, we can turn back, that's one consolation." + +Just then, under Madden's astonished eyes, a queer thing happened. The +long open tongue of the sea which they had just entered, silently closed +up. It seemed to close very slowly, and yet it was accomplished in an +amazingly brief time. Some dull movement in the Sargasso current had +blocked the adventurers with sinister precision. Madden felt the hot +slimy mass close softly around him. + +It was now as easy to go forward as to return. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +TRAPPED + + +There was something so sinister in this silent closing of all avenue of +retreat that for a moment Madden was dismayed, then he struck out toward +the schooner with a certain bold weariness. + +As an experiment he threw his buoy ahead of him by a snap of wrist and +forearm, then tried to swim to it. The long yielding growth slid under +and around him, but it took all the dash out of his stroke. He pawed his +way forward with his arms, legs stretched out idle. A thousand wet +sticky fingers dragged their length over his body, retarding, clogging, +holding him. It left him stranded like a bug in gelatine. His flesh +crawled at this slimy swimming, he shrank from it, and it sapped his +heart and strength. + +The only stroke possible was the overarm, and his hands fell with a +gummy plop instead of the heartsome splash of open water. By the time he +reached his buoy and threw it again, he regretted miserably that he had +not swum the clean water route if it were five miles farther. + +By the time he had thrown his buoy twice, he could hardly advance it a +yard beyond his reach; finally it simply slushed along the surface. The +sun seemed much hotter in this congestion than in the open sea. + +Behind him came his two men in a queer snakelike procession of plopping +buoys and wriggling bodies. Ahead of them the seaweed stretched, +apparently all the way to the schooner. As they worked their way through +the scum of many seas, the noon sun broiled their backs into thin water +blisters, and stewed saline odors out of the clammy life about them. + +Once Madden's hand struck a yellowish line of algae and a score or two +of little jelly-like insects writhed into the grass below. One of these +things touched the swimmer's arm and gave the boy a stinging sensation. +He knocked it off desperately and pushed on. + +Presently his shoulder muscles ached and burned so keenly, he could no +longer continue the overarm. Then he took the buoy in both hands, held +it straight out, thrust it edge down into the oozy substance, used it as +a kind of anchor and drew it to him. At first this technique seemed to +advance him somewhat, but presently he appeared merely to disturb the +viscous mass without going forward. He grew acutely discouraged; his +back, shoulders, cramped, ached and burned. The brilliantly lighted +schooner seemed to regress as he progressed. The sun was like an auger +boring into the back of his head. His mind began to wander again, and a +sudden fear came on him lest he should go insane out in this horrible +slime. + +A fiery burning on his right foot jerked him back out of his half +delirium, and he knew that an insect of the same kind he had seen a few +minutes before had stung him. He kicked it off convulsively, but the +thrust of his foot brought a wash of new stings. + +All of a sudden, his patience, endurance, pluck seemed to give out. This +new torture made him as unreasonably frantic as a baby. He kicked +furiously. He scraped the toe nails of one foot against the flesh of the +other leg. As he did so the animalculae settled on the abraded skin, +like streaks of melted steel. The boy doubled up, like a grub worm +covered with ants, fighting, scraping, twisting, squirming. He writhed, +beat, scratched, this great hundred and sixty pound animal fighting an +enemy that would weigh about twenty to the gram. + +He heard a shout from Caradoc, a question from Greer, then his insane +struggles carried him under the surface of the clammy seaweed. The +seaweed, infested with stinging insects, closed over his form like a +wave of fire. + +Only lack of breath stopped Leonard's mad struggles. Bursting lungs and +the mere necessity to live at last made him disregard the attacks of +these wasps of the Sargasso. He struck out for the surface again like a +diver, reaching up arms, spreading legs with a stroke and a kick. But +the gelatinous stuff simply quivered with his struggles and held him +firm. He stuck like a fly in mucilage. + +The sliminess of the element utterly destroyed the mechanics of +swimming. A forward stroke in pure water displaces portions of the water +and the return stroke sends the body forward. In this mass the forward +stroke merely compressed the weed in front of the arm, and left a cavity +through which the return stroke received no power. + +Madden dared not open his eyes. In fiery blackness he kicked and struck +in useless froglike movements. His heart was beating like a trip-hammer +in his ears. Streaks of red fire played against the blackness of his +eyelids. He knew that in a few more seconds his straining lungs would +gulp in the stinging ooze, he knew his will could not prevent his +drawing in some sort of breath. + +He clung desperately to the control of his diaphragm, as a falling man +clings to a ledge of rock. His great chest muscles gave convulsive +jerks. His control was going, going. + +Suddenly a human hand gripped his wrist. He was jerked upwards, perhaps +a foot. A moment later he was gulping in great lungfuls of air. + +He had been suffocating ten or twelve inches beneath that repulsive +slime, as securely captured as if he had been a thousand feet deep. + +It had taken Greer and Smith that length of time to wriggle a yard or +two and fish him out. + +"Steady! Steady!" said Caradoc in a lifeless voice. "Steady there, +Madden! Hold him tightly, Greer!" + +Greer made some sort of groaning reply, when Caradoc snarled, "Let 'em +sting, you scullion! What if they do kill you! Is there any better way +to die?" + +Madden felt a great pushing and jostling at his body. He raked the +seaweed from his face and opened his eyes. The Englishman was shoving +fiercely at the American's shoulder, Greer, ahead, pulling at an elbow. +The burning insects had swarmed on both his rescuers. Caradoc's +sun-baked face had a yellowish, bloodless hue, his lean jaws clenched +under his choppy white mustache. In the midst of his burning pain he +held his legs rigid, pushed Leonard with one hand and pawed furiously +through the viscid tangle with the other. + +The constancy of his companions braced Madden like a dash of ice water. +His own weakness had brought about this dangerous plight. The American +caught up his buoy, and between great gasps of the blessed air, rapped +out that he could go by himself, and began making his own way forward. + +So the three worked themselves over the oozy bed of fire. The +Englishman's arms shot into the slime with the regularity of pistons. He +appeared to make no haste, yet he made remarkable speed. Only his +distended nostrils, pain-tightened mouth, grim eyes, showed that he was +in torture. + +Even amid his own suffering Leonard felt a thrill of admiration for +Smith's endurance and working power. He even found time to wonder dimly +if Smith's people, that rich, cold, proud family, if they could see +their remittance man now, would not stoop to claim him as a kinsman. + +All at once the poignant and disgusting attack of the insects ceased. A +flood of ecstatic relief swept over the adventurers. Without a word, all +three quit squirming, caught their floats under their armpits and swung +down in a limp luxurious rest. + +Then they saw a marvelous thing had happened. The same slow swirl of the +Sargasso current that had closed up their avenue on the west side, had +opened another on the east. Their way toward the schooner lay +unobstructed. + +The clean delightful seawater soothed the pain of their stinging flesh. + +"We'll be there in fifteen minutes," murmured Leonard weakly. + +"When you're ready, say so," said Greer with a frown still lingering on +his heavy face. + +At that moment Madden heard a groan from Caradoc. + +"What's the matter?" aspirated the American. + +"Nothing--weak--don't bother." He closed his eyes, blew out his breath +like a sick man. His face was bloodlessly sallow, and Madden could see +his grip slipping on the canvas buoy. + +"You're all in!" gasped Madden in exhausted staccato, "I knew you +oughtn't to--aren't you about to faint again?" + +The Englishman shook his head slightly. "Don't worry," he murmured, then +his eyes closed, his hands slipped loose. + +With brusque directness, Madden caught the shock of tawny hair, jammed +Caradoc's chin against the buoy and held him tight with little exertion +for himself. Smith swung out as awkwardly as a turkey on a chopping +block. The water was level with his lips, but his nose did not go under. + +"Petered at last," grunted Madden, staring at the corpselike face in +dull speculation. "How in the world are we going to get him out of +here?" + +"I guess we can tow him out, sir," growled Greer with dull indifference. +"Mighty puny chap--always flopping over when he's in a tight place." + +"Come here, stick his arms through our buoys, put his own under his +head!" + +The plan was quickly carried out and Smith's unconscious form was placed +beyond immediate danger. + +The two youths took up their long swim once more. As they moved down the +opening, they could see what slow progress they were making. Presently +Madden explained in a low whispering tone: + +"His heart's bad... can't stand much... poisoned with alcohol." + +Another pause filled with slow weary swimming, then Greer said: + +"Said I was no gentleman... didn't know a French word... I keep sober." + +Madden made no defense to this reflection on the unconscious Englishman, +but after a while he said: + +"We ought to overlook lots in him, Greer--unfortunate fellow... there's +good in him, Greer... bad too." + +"I've got no call to please you," growled the sailor with astonishing +frankness. + +"Then why did you come with us?" inquired Madden amazed. + +"Wanted to see the schooner." + +"And what have _I_ done to _you_?" + +"Called me a thief!" the sailor elevated his dull tone. "After I +telegraphed ye about th' men... fought for ye... called me a thief!" + +"Was that you tapping on the dock?" + +Greer nodded resentfully. "And ye insulted me for it." + +"I'm sorry... I was almost wild that night. I'll apologize... before the +crew." + +"I don't care nothing about that dull English crew." This strange +fellow's tone carried in it an illiterate man's undying resentment. + +"Since you feel that way," panted Madden at last, "I think I ought to +tell you--he took the medicine chest," Leonard nodded at the finely +carved motionless face that lay on the float before them. + +"Him!" gasped Greer. + +Leonard nodded. "He wanted the alcohol in it." + +"And you call him a _gentleman_?" + +Leonard nodded again. "Somehow I still call him a gentleman. He's hurt, +sick, bruised, but he's a gentleman." + +"Well I don't!" + +At that moment, the buoy under Caradoc's head bumped into a wooden wall +and upset their swimming arrangements. + +They were under the overhang of the mysterious schooner. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE MYSTERY SHIP + + +Waves from the exhausted swimmers sent bright streaks of watershine +wavering up the green hull over Madden's head. Utter silence pervaded +the vessel. There was no creaking of spar or block. Hot tar stood in her +seams in the beating sunshine. + +The boys kicked wearily through the tepid water to the schooner's prow, +where Greer succeeded in catching the bobstays and climbing aboard. A +little later he lowered a rope to Madden with a double bight in it. The +Yankee made the Englishman fast in the loops, climbed on deck himself +and helped haul the unconscious fellow aboard. + +The two boys lugged the senseless man wearily across deck into the shade +of the superstructure, then in default of any better restorative, +Leonard began slapping the bottom of the Englishman's feet to revive +him. Presently Caradoc groaned, drew up his legs. + +"He's coming around all right," said Greer, then he looked about him. +"What do you make out of this anyway, Mr. Madden?" + +Leonard glanced around and did see a remarkable derelict. The schooner +was as newly painted and trig as if fresh from the ways. Her deck was +holystoned to man-o'-war cleanliness; every sheet, hawser, stay, tackle, +pin, spike, was in place. Three small boats, her full complement, hung +in davits. On the bow of these boats, on their oars and buoys, was +painted the name of the schooner, "Minnie B." + +From the port side of the vessel there stretched a long cable patently +leading to a sea anchor. All sails were brailed except mains'l and +tops'l, which were reefed and set against each other to hold her steady +in case of a blow. The funnel was freshly painted black with a red band +at the top. Judging from her appearance, the desertion of the _Minnie +B_ had been carefully planned. Yet why desert a new vessel? By what +means did the crew leave the schooner, since all her small boats +remained? + +What was their motive in anchoring the _Minnie B_ in the middle of +the Sargasso? + +There appeared to be no easy answer to these questions. + +"I don't understand this," said Greer, in answer to Madden's unspoken +perplexity. "Where did the crew go, sir, and how did they go?" + +"They might have deserted her for her insurance," suggested Madden +tentatively. + +"Then why didn't they scuttle her--besides, a new vessel like this is +worth more than her insurance." + +"Maybe it was her cargo. Perhaps they faked it, rated it away above its +value." + +"Why she has no cargo, sir. She's riding light as a skiff; I noticed +that as I climbed up." + +"Then what is your idea?" inquired the American. + +Greer glanced around with a trace of uneasiness. "The crew went by the +board, sir, I'm thinking." + +"Overboard--all washed overboard! Why there isn't one chance in a +million of such a thing hap--" + +"I didn't say 'washed overboard,' sir," corrected Greer heavily. "I +think they got throwed overboard, one by one, sir." + +"One by one!" Madden stared at the solemn faced fellow. + +Farnol nodded stolidly. "Just so, sir." + +"You mean--?" + +"The plague, sir." + +"O-oh!" The American stared around the deck with new eyes. Greer's +explanation struck home with a certain convincingness. The mere thought +of disease-laden surroundings filled him with alarm. Could they have +unwittingly wandered into a deserted pest-ship? A focus of death in +these rotting seas? The very air he breathed, the wood he touched, might +inoculate him with malignant germs. Then he began reasoning on it. + +"Even if it were the plague, there ought to be someone left aboard, +Greer, a last corpse." The American sniffed the hot, breathless, +tar-scented air. + +"He could well have gone crazy, sir, in this heat and followed his mates +overboard--but we can look and see." + +At this moment, Caradoc stirred and pulled himself to a sitting posture +on the burning deck. + +"You--you pulled me aboard?" he murmured weakly, looking about with the +face of a corpse. + +"How do you feel--anything I can do?" + +"If I had a dr--" he broke off, drew a long breath. "Nobody aboard?" + +"If you're all right, Greer and I will take a turn below and see what we +can find," suggested Madden. + +Caradoc nodded apathetically and stared seaward toward the cable sagging +into the dead ocean. + +The two boys moved gingerly up to the hatchway that led down to the +forecastle. If disease had smitten the _Minnie B_ they hoped to get +some clew from the taint of the sailors' quarters. Greer stuck a nose +down the ladder first. Beyond the usual close ship smells there seemed +to be nothing wrong. Then they climbed down. + +Here again they found order. The bunks against the bulkheads and the +curve of the prow were clean with neatly rolled blankets. The lockers +were open and empty. The two searchers climbed out and walked aft to the +lazaret. They were rapidly getting over their fright of the plague. +Again Greer entered first, and this time Madden heard a loud snort of +disgust. + +Half expecting some sinister sight, Madden ran down the three steps and +entered the storeroom. But what had roused the sailor's dislike was that +the lazaret contained no provisions. It was as empty as the forecastle; +not a chest, not a canister, not even a spice box remained. Here again +the lockers were open and empty. From one of the keyholes hung a bunch +of keys. The steward had deserted his ring, knowing it could never be of +service to him again. + +The little metal bunch hung straight down without the slightest +oscillation. Such lack of motion and life amid the close stewing heat of +the lazaret threw a glamor of unreality over the whole affair. The +schooner might well have been warped to a dock in some port of the dead. +The very newness of everything accentuated its amazing loneliness. + +"Doesn't seem real, does it?" said Greer in a low tone, drawing a long +breath in the heat. "I keep listening." + +Madden shook himself. "It seems as if someone ought to be aboard." He +broke away from the spell: "I wish they had left us some provisions--we +need 'em." + +The hot heavy silence fell immediately after the remark, like a curtain +that was heavy to lift. + +"Let's look through the hold and see if there _isn't_ someone +here!" suggested Greer uneasily. + +With a feeling that they were likely to encounter some being, human or +spectral, at every turn, they went below. The farther they went the more +inexplicable became the _Minnie B's_ desertion. Her engines were in +perfect order, her furnace so new that the grate bars were still +unsealed from heat; the maker's name-plate was still bright on the +boilers; her hull was quite dry, with less than six inches of water in +her bilge. She had no cargo, except four or five tons of raw metal +ingots used as ballast. The coal in her bunkers was nearly exhausted. +Indeed she was riding so light that heavy weather would upset her like a +chip. It seemed as if the crew had looted the _Minnie B_ in a +thorough and extraordinary manner, and then had simply vanished. Every +now and then in their search the two would find themselves standing +motionless, open-mouthed, listening intently to the brooding silence. + +More puzzled than ever by these explorations, the two adventurers +climbed into the chart room. Here, also, everything was intact, and in +order. In a desk they found the ship's log and clearance papers. The +captain's and the mate's licenses hung in frames against the wall. Near +these was tacked the picture of a sunny-haired little girl and +underneath it was written the name "Minnie." So the schooner was the +little smiling-faced girl's namesake, this tragedy-haunted abandoned +vessel. A Mercator's projection lay thumb-tacked on a table, and the +last position of the schooner was indicated by a pin sticking in the +map. + +Madden moved over to it eagerly, hoping this pin would give him some +inkling as to where the disaster, if there had been one, occurred. He +noted the latitude and longitude indicated by the marker, then turned +excitedly to Greer. + +"Look here!" he cried, "this pin marks our position at this moment. We +are right here!" he touched the point on the map. + +"How do you know it does?" + +"I calculated the dock's position this morning." + +"Well, what of that? She will probably lie here till she rots in this +stagnant sea." + +"That's the point: This is not a stagnant sea. There is a current of +about six miles a day in the Sargasso, very slow, but it will change a +ship's reckoning." + +Greer remained unimpressed. "What do you make of that?" + +"Make of that! Why, man, the person who took this reckoning, took it +_this morning_! That's the only way he could have got it. There was +somebody on this schooner this morning when we sighted her." + +"This morning! This _morning_! Where in Davy Jones' locker----" + +Madden was leaning over the chart scrutinizing it with careful eyes. At +last he raised up in complete bewilderment. + +"Farnol," he said in a queer tone, "the crew meant to come here! Meant +to sail through the Sargasso--clear away from all trade +routes--incomprehensible but--just look!" + +Both boys bent above the chart, and Madden silently pointed out a row of +pin holes that marked the daily reckonings of the _Minnie B_. She +had sailed from Portland, Maine, had swung up the northern route past +Newfoundland Banks as if going to England. On this portion of her voyage +her average run was a little less than two hundred knots a day. On the +fifth day out, the _Minnie B_ inexplicably deserted the normal +trade course, turned from "E. NE." and sailed directly "S. SW." At the +same time her speed was accelerated to a trifle over three hundred knots +a day. Her last reckoning left the pin sticking in the exact longitude +and latitude which Leonard had worked out for the dock that morning. + +"They got in a hurry when they did turn south," said Greer vacuously. + +"They certainly burned coal from there to here." + +"But what could have put her in such a rush, sir?" + +"She must have sailed somewhere after a cargo, and later received a +cancellation of the order. With that cancellation there must have come a +new commission with a time limit, from some of the South American ports, +I should judge by her course, say Caracas, or Paramaribo." + +"But she has no wireless, sir. She couldn't have changed her +destination." + +"That would be fairly easy to explain. There are so many fast liners +with wireless between New York and Liverpool, it would be a simple +matter to get a message signaled to a sailing vessel in the trade +route." + +"But I can't see why she sailed through the Sargasso?" + +"If the time factor had been urgent enough, she might have tried to +shorten her journey by coming this way instead of following the usual +course by Cuba and through the Caribbean." + +"That doesn't tell what happened to the men." + +Madden shook his head and wiped the sweat from his face on his +undershirt sleeve. "Let's read the log. That ought to clear up things a +bit." + +Both lads hurried over to the desk, drew out the greasy, well-thumbed +book. In their excitement, they forgot rank and tried to read together. + +"Let me read it aloud," compromised Madden. + +Dripping with sweat, they leaned on the hot desk and went carefully over +the log of the _Minnie B_. + +The record was simple. The _Minnie B_, of Leeds, England, sailed +from Portland, Maine, for Liverpool on July thirtieth with a cargo of +lake copper in bulk bound for Liverpool. For the first five days, her +log was written in two heavy unscholarly hands, which alternated with +each other, and were evidently those of the mate and the captain. These +two handwritings were quite distinct from each other and contained the +usual notes of prevailing winds, state of weather, speed, distance +indicated by patent log, dead reckonings, vessels sighted and such like. + +From the sixth to the twentieth day, the log of the _Minnie B_ was +written in a sharp, pointed, scholarly hand, and this record was +confined to the mere relation of distances and reckonings. Then on +the twenty-first day of August there appeared the following entry: + +"46 degrees 57' W. Long. 27 degrees 24' 11" N. Lat. No wind. Sargasso +Sea. Current 9.463 kilometers per 24 hrs. W. SW. Cast sea anchor. Five +hundred tons ingots reshipped." + +At this statement, Leonard turned and stared at Greer. + +"Reshipped! Reshipped! Holy cats, Farnol! Reshipped from here--right +here!" He jabbed a finger downward to indicate the spot in the dead +Sargasso Sea occupied by the _Minnie B_. + +Greer shook his head dully. "But this is all the wildest--" he made a +helpless motion. "You oughtn't to think about it, sir, or you'll be +going overboard, too. Reshipped!... This heat will get anybody in +time.... The man who wrote that went and jumped overboard the next +minute no doubt. Reshipped..... It ain't good for us to read it, sir." + +"But something's gone with her cargo, Greer!" declared Madden +vehemently. "Something's gone with it. I don't care how crazy the crew +became they surely wouldn't have dumped a hold full of copper into the +sea. This log says 'reshipped' and blessed if I don't believe--" + +At this moment the boys seemed to hear the sound in the deathly silent +vessel for which their ears had been all the time straining. Madden +broke off abruptly and both stood listening with palpitating hearts. It +was repeated. A repressed half groan, inarticulate, as if some human +being were in distress. It was in the main cabin below them. + +Hardly daring to guess at what they would see, the adventurers crept +silently out of the chart room, down a short hot passageway to a door. +Leonard caught a breath, then opened it without noise. + +In the brilliant westering light that flooded the main cabin through the +port holes, Madden saw a dining table, disordered as from a recent +feast. On the floor around it were fragments of smashed glasses and +bloody stains. A cut glass decanter, half full of wine, sat on the +table, and in a corner of the cabin shrank the figure of a man. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A MODERN COLUMBUS + + +Hardly knowing what to expect the two advanced into the cabin, when the +figure turned and looked at them with pallid countenance. + +"It's Caradoc!" cried Madden in great astonishment and relief. "Scots, +Smith, you gave us a jolt! We thought--what's the matter, old chap? Heat +again?" + +The Englishman's long face was strained. "Would you--take that decanter +away, please!" he begged unsteadily. + +Instantly Leonard understood the temptation into which Caradoc had +unwittingly wandered. A strong odor of wine pervaded the cabin, and +Smith's knock-out had given his nerves a great craving for a stimulant. + +Without a word, Leonard walked to the table, took the wine bottle by its +neck and heaved it through the open port. The three men in their half +costumes stood listening intently until it chucked into the sea below. +All three seemed to feel relief at the sound. + +"That's all right, Caradoc," said Madden with a note of comfort in his +voice, "all right, old chap. It won't be like this always." + +"I was unstrung--rotten heat," grumbled the Englishman in acute +self-disgust. "I thought I was getting over all--" he shifted the topic +suddenly: "What do you make out of all this?" + +"Completest mystery I ever ran into--the crew deserted for some +reason----" + +"And they had a feast and a celebration before they went. What cause of +rejoicing they discovered in this place is more than I can fancy." + +An inspection showed Smith was correct. What the boys had taken for +bloodstains in their first excitement were splashes of wine. The table +was still laden with dishes and eatables. Broken glass around the table +showed that the diners had followed the old custom of breaking their +goblets after toasts. + +"They were having a last square meal before taking to their boats," +speculated Leonard. + +"But the boats are still here, sir," objected Greer. + +"There seems to be no explanation," gloomed Caradoc. + +"If we gathered this up and took it to the men, they would thank us +heartily," suggested Greer. + +"That's a fact," agreed Madden, setting to work at once. "Here, pile +these plates on trays and we'll load 'em in the small boat." + +The three adventurers set to work busily, carrying the provisions, which +were still fresh and wholesome, to the port dinghy which lay toward the +dock. + +As they worked they speculated further on what could have brought about +such an extraordinary situation. Their guesses ranged from water spouts +to savages. Presently Caradoc cut in with: + +"It's not so much how the _Minnie B_ got here, as it is how we are +going to handle her." + +"We'll man her and sail home," said Greer. + +"We'll have to ballast her first," declared Leonard. "She won't run this +way." + +"We have enough coal on the dock for that, sir." + +"In a flat sea like this," suggested Caradoc, "we can warp the schooner +to the front of the barge and load the coal directly in her hold." + +By this time the dinghy was loaded and the three swung her out of the +davits into the sea below. Then they threw down a rope ladder and +climbed below. Greer went back to the stern, picked up an oar and began +to scull. + +The sun sank as the little boat worked her way through the lanes of +seaweed, and the great dock threw long purple shadows across the highly +colored ocean. Caradoc looked at the great structure intently. The +setting sun rimmed its great shape in brilliant red, but the bulk of it +lay in deep wine-like shadow. The boys gazed at it musingly. + +"A fine structure to desert, isn't it?" said Caradoc in a low tone. + +"Just what I was thinking," sympathized Madden. "I suppose we could send +a tug back and find her?" + +"Doubtful, in this fantastic place." + +"The current is fairly well charted; still, it may take us some time to +reach port----" Both men fell into a musing silence as Greer nibbled the +boat forward with the single oar. + +"The thing's worth over a million pounds," appraised Caradoc. + +Suddenly Madden straightened with an idea. "How about hitching that +schooner to the dock and towing her?" + +"What an American idea!" Caradoc lifted his voice slightly. + +"Would we--make any--headway, sir, with the schooner's--light +machinery?" asked Greer, his sentence punctuated by shoves at his oar. + +"We would have to try and see. Besides, we would have to do little else +than help the current we are in. The Atlantic eddy sweeps through the +Caribbean close to the South American coast. If we could control our +direction slightly, we would perhaps make La Guayra or the Port of +Spain." + +"With a seven or eight mile current that would take us months--years.... +What is the distance to La Guayra?" this from Smith. + +"Something around fifteen hundred miles. But that isn't the point. It +isn't how long it takes us, it's can we _do_ it. Had you thought of +the salvage end of this thing?" + +"Salvage, no. We'll get salvage on the schooner--a bagatelle." + +Madden shook his head, "No, I believe we ought to get salvage on the +whole dock." + +"Salvage on the dock!" Caradoc opened his eyes. "We'd be jolly well near +millionaires. No, that's impossible. A crew can't salve their own +vessel." + +"Yes, but we are not the crew of the dock," insisted Madden, "at least +not the navigating crew. The men of the _Vulcan_ were that. We are +nothing but painters----" + +"Oh, that's a quibble--nothing but a quibble!" objected Caradoc. + +"Well, anyway, I think there is a rule that if a crew rescue their own +craft under circumstances of extreme peril, they come in as salvors. +I'll look it up in Malone's books when we get back." + +At that moment their ears caught a cheering from the dock, which came to +them as a small sound almost lost over the immense flat sea. Greer +paused in his work to wave a hand, which was extremely sociable for him. +The men bunched on the forward pontoon, waved and shouted at the little +boat. As the noise grew louder, questions shaped themselves in the +uproar. + +"W'ot did ye make of 'er?" "Was there anywan aboard?" "W'ot ship is +she?" "Can we git a berth hoff this bloomin' dock?" + +Madden held up his hands for silence and shouted a reply. + +"We have a meal for you--a dinner!" + +A great shouting and cheering broke out at this. It is strange how much +more pressing is the small need of a dinner than the large need of a +rescue. The mystery of the schooner was overlooked in a sight of the +plates and victuals. + +"Oh, look, there it is--bread and meat!" "And, say, ain't that fish?" +"And that goose or something!" + +Eager hands reached down as Madden and Caradoc handed up the platters. +"To the mess room, to the mess room!" directed Leonard. + +"Sure, sure, we wouldn't touch a mouthful for hanything!" cried Mulcher +earnestly. + +"Misther Madden, you're a wonder!" extolled Hogan. + +Then the three men climbed up and were received clamorously. Even the +silent Greer found himself beset with a temporary bunch of admirers. All +began talking of the _Minnie B_, asking questions. Caradoc unbent +his dignity and explained what he had observed. + +Leonard went straight to the officer's cabin, eager to satisfy his +curiosity about salvage. A whole fortune shimmered before his vision if +law allowed the crew to salve the dock. He turned into the hot cabin, +struck a light and ran his eyes over the mate's shelf of books. He soon +found what he was hunting, "Abbot's Law of Merchant's Ships and Seamen." + +Leonard sat down at his desk, placed the light close by and began a +sweating search for the legal rule applicable to salvage. It was +Madden's intention to attempt to get the dock to port no matter what the +law said, but he knew his best chance of getting the crew to cooperate +was through possible prize money. + +Like all legal works, Abbott gave shading decisions on both sides of the +topic. As the lad read on he discovered many questions were involved. + +What constitutes the crew of a vessel? Can a towed vessel have a +navigating crew? Could a lawful crew be composed of ordinary laborers, +or would it be necessary for them to be able seamen? + +All these points and many others were involved, but Leonard plodded +patiently through the legal labyrinth, and finally decided that he and +his crew were eligible for prize money. He then fell to estimating the +probable amount the crew would receive. The dock was easily worth a +million pounds, or say five million dollars. It would lack one or two +hundred thousand totting up a full five million, but Leonard's +imagination was in no mood to balk at a paltry two hundred thousand more +or less. Say five million! The share of the salvors would amount to--say +fifty per cent, two and a half million. Distribute this among twelve +men. There he was, two hundred and eight thousand, three hundred and +thirty-three dollars and thirty-three cents. Or say two hundred thousand +dollars. + +Madden drew a long breath and opened his eyes at his own figures. Was it +possible? He doubted it! He believed it! + +He stared out of his open port onto the fantastic sea, amazed that a +great fortune should drift in to him from such a place. What would he +do? How should he live? He could go anywhere, do anything. There came to +him suddenly the precepts of his old teacher in economics at college: "A +fortune is a great moral responsibility. A rich man is a trustee of +society." Did he have the brains to wield this money and make it mean +something to the world? The thought of wealth always comes with a +question. A man's answer to that question determines whether he is a man +or a thing. + +Before Leonard could reach any sort of decision, Gaskin rang his gong +for dinner. The boy arose and walked buoyantly towards the mess hall. He +was hungry, too. Ever since he had cut rations, he had been eating the +same fare as the men. + +The tropical night was falling as the men joyously entered to a +full-fledged, satisfying, if secondhand, meal. They came in laughing, +joking boisterously, wondering about the schooner. + +When the men had strung around the long table, Mike Hogan arose and the +men became quiet as if at some preconcerted signal. The Irishman gave a +slightly embarrassed bob toward Leonard and began in an extra rich +brogue: + +"Misther Madden, sir----" + +Leonard glanced up in surprise. "What's worrying you, Mike?" + +"Th' bhoys, sir, have been thinkin' as how we would loike to ixpress our +appreciation av what ye've done for us, sir, in a little spache, +something loike a little spache av wilcome, sir, an' asked me to do it, +if ye don't moind." + +"Go ahead," nodded Madden, "but don't expect much of a response from me. +I'm no speaker and----" + +"Go on, Mike!" "Go to it, Mike!" "Take a sip of water, Mike, like a +reg'lar one, and cut loose." + +With this encouragement, the Celt moistened his dry lips, thrust out his +chest, and after a momentary fumble, stuck three fingers in his shirt +front. + +"It's me pr-roud privilege, ladies and gintilmin, to wilcome to our +midst, a gintilmin bearin' in wan hand a distinguished ancistry, a +spirit av enterprise and a hear-rt av courage, while wid his other, he +snatches a dinner for his starvin' min out o' th' middle av th' Sargasso +Sea. Oi rayfer to our distinguished commander, Captain Leonard Madden of +America." + +A burst of applause followed this period. Hogan beamed, bowed deeply to +left and right; his voice went up an octave and he proceeded: + +"Ladies an' gintilmin, me mind runs back through th' pages av histh'ry, +lookin' for a name fit to be compared with him but I don't find none. +There is Columbus and Peary and Stanley and Amundsen, all av thim +gr-reat min, but whin you come to compare thim with our hero, phwat have +they done? + +"Look at Columbus. What is his claim to glory? Did Columbus iver swim +out into th' stinkin' Sargasso and come back with a good dinner for his +star-r-vin' min? Histh'ry does not say so. He discovered America, +Columbus did. What is America? A whole continint. Anybody that was +sailin' by would have noticed it. But, gintilmin, a dinner is a very +small thing and they are har-rd to discover, as ivry wan of you lads +very will know. Columbus wint out in thray ships, our gallant captain +wint out in his undhershirt and a straw hat. I say thray cheers for our +gallant captain!" + +The cheers were given with a hearty good will and the orator sat down +smiling broadly and moistening his dry lips with his tongue. Then the +diners desired a response. + +It struck Madden to propose salving the dock while the crowd was mellow. +He arose when the noise subsided somewhat. + +"I thank you fellows very much for the kind opinion you entertain of me, +and now I want to lay a proposition before you." + +"Hear! Hear the captain!" called two or three cockneys in hoarse good +humor. + +"I want to say that to-morrow we are going to man the schooner and sail +for home." + +The men were in a bubbling mood, and cheered this with cries of "Good! +Good!" + +"What I wish you to decide is, whether we shall tow the dock, or sail +with the schooner alone?" + +"With the schooner alone, sor!" "Schooner alone!" "We 'ave enough of th' +dock!" came an instant chorus. + +Leonard held up a hand, "One moment. I want you to have a voice in this +decision. An attempt to tow the dock will be highly adventurous, no +doubt dangerous. You were not hired for any such service, and I wish to +leave it to a vote." + +"Good, very good, sor! Let's 'ave th' question!" + +"Just one moment. You must consider the salvage involved in this matter. +If we save the schooner, we will receive as prize money about one-half +her value. If we save the dock, we will receive about half _her_ +value. The dock is worth a million pounds, about five million dollars. +So each man would receive for his portion, in event we salved the dock +about... two hundred thousand dollars... a fortune." + +A profound silence fell over the diners. They hunched forward, staring +fixedly out of sunburned, gross, dissipated faces. Longshores-men, the +scum of London, who had worked all their lives for half a pound a week, +gaped at the idea of two hundred thousand dollars. + +Somebody repeated the sum hoarsely. Suddenly they raised an uproar. + +"We'll take 'er, sir!" "We'll tow th' dock, sor!" "We weel tow zee dock +to zee moon for zat!" "Sphend our loives and die rich min!" + +The strong imagination of wealth ran around the table like wine. +Deschaillon responded first. + +"Voila! One meellion francs! I weel buy a pond near Paris and raise bull +frogs. I weel buy a decoration and be a knight. I weel----" + +"I'll start an undertaker shop!" glowed Galton, "and my old mother shall +have a bit of ground to raise flowers." + +"Glory be!" chanted Hogan, "Oi'll wear a tall hat, a long-tailed coat +and carry a silver-headed cane, and thin Susie Maloney and Bridget +O'Malley and Peggy O'Brien will be sorry they iver tossed up their saucy +noses at th' love o' an honest lad!" + +"I'll own a kennel of bulldogs," growled Mulcher, "and 'ave a fight +hev'ry day." + +All this was given in chorus and much of it lost. Those who didn't speak +aloud their heart's desires thought them. Fortune had shown her golden +form to these crude men for a fleeting instant, and dreams, long hidden +in their hearts, suddenly leaped to life. They were poor dreams, selfish +dreams, foolish dreams, but for the moment they poised, like liberated +fairies, for a flight to the land where dreams come true. + +"We sail in the morning," explained Madden, "for a South American port. +Is there anyone in this crew who knows anything about running a marine +engine?" + +The men fell silent and looked inquiringly at each other. Fortune was +beginning to show herself elusive, even in the Sargasso, save to those +who _know_. + +"I b'lieve not," said Mulcher. + +"We could raise steam, sir," suggested Galton, "and then pull all the +levers and twist th' w'eels, sir and see w'ot'd 'appen." + +"W'ot 'ud 'appen!" cried two or three voices. "W'y, we'd hall be blowed +galley west, 'at's w'ot'd 'appen!" + +"Sure Misther Madden can figger it out!" suggested Hogan cheerfully. + +"We might leave th' dock and run 'er 'ome by sail," suggested Galton. + +"No! No! Take th' dock!" "We'll run'er by steam!" "Steam's th' word!" +A storm of determination cried down any such suggestion. + +"D'ye mean a dozin str-rong min can't run one little engine!" shouted +Hogan; "r-rich min, too! It's a shame, lads, we haven't a dhrop o' +something to dhrink the health av th' ixpedition." + +"Yes, Mister Madden, a drop o' something!" urged another voice. + +At that moment, Gaskin entered the door with suppressed excitement +showing through his usually imperturbable manner. + +"Hi--Hi beg pardon, Mister Madden. Hi, don't want to interrupt, but--" +he rubbed his hands with a little bob--"but would you 'ave th' goodness +to step outside for a look, sir. Hi think th' _Minnie B_ is on +fire." + +And the fairy dreams, evoked by a wave of Fortune's wand, crept silently +back into the hearts of their owners. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE STRANGE END OF THE _MINNIE B_ + + +At Gaskin's announcement, bedlam broke loose among the diners. They +leaped to their feet and rushed headlong from the messroom. + +"Get th' buckets!" "Man th' boat!" "We'll niver get there in toime!" +"_Allons! Allons_!" "W'y didn't we put a guard on 'er!" "Hurry! +Hurry! Hurry!" "Yes, 'urry! 'urry!" + +Out into the darkness to the forward pontoon rushed the howling mob. +Some gave inarticulate cries, others bewailed their lost riches to the +vast empty night. + +A strange sight met their eyes. The spars and sails of the _Minnie +B_ stood out against the black heavens in a flickering brilliance +that danced up through the rigging, but presently all saw it was a mere +light shining from beneath. + +"Th' fire's in th' hold!" cried Galton hoarsely. "Did you men drop a +match?" + +"'Ow could they drop a match, wearin' nothin' but undershirts?" flared +back another navvy. + +"We could do no good in a small boat!" cried Galton. + +'She's afire from stem to stern!" + +"But smoke--w'ere's th' smoke?" + +Then, quite surprisingly, the light wavered out, leaving the schooner in +stony blackness. A vague blur of complementary color swam in Madden's +eyes. A gasp went up from the watchers. + +"Bhoys," faltered Hogan in an awed tone, "th' banshees ar-re dancin' +to-night!" + +"Banshees!" sneered Mulcher. "Th' deck's caved in--it'll break out +again!" + +"Th' engines must be ruint complately." + +"Wot do ye make of it, Mister Madden?" asked Galton, bewildered. +"Look--there it is again!" + +Sure enough the mysterious light flamed up once more as suddenly as it +disappeared. It flickered and wavered over hull and spars. + +"It might possibly be a phosphorescent display," hazarded Leonard, +completely mystified. + +"Tropical seas grow very luminous when disturbed... a school of +dolphins or sharks on the other side the schooner might----" + +"This must be a reg'lar fire!" cried Mulcher. "Nothin' but a furnace in +th' hold----" + +"W'y don't hit smoke?" + +"'Ow do I know?" + +"Hit ain't a fire!" + +"W'ot is hit?" + +"Phosphescence, didn't you 'ear Mister Madden say!" + +"Will hit sink 'er?" + +Deschaillon gave a sharp laugh. "What _sauvages_!" + +By this time it became clear to everyone that it was not a fire. As the +weird illumination continued its fantastic gambols, little points of +light began moving about the deck. + +Just then Caradoc's grave voice hazarded: "That must be an extraordinary +display of St. Elmo's fire. I should say a storm was brewing." + +"Would St. Elmo's fire 'urt th' vessel, sir?" asked a cockney. + +"Not at all," replied the Englishman. + +As Leonard stared a queer thought came into his head. He looked around +at his companions. In the faint radiance from the mysterious schooner, +he could make out their faces, pale blurs all fixed on the strange +spectacle. He picked out the heavy form of Farnol Greer and moved over +to his friend. Under the cover of excited talking and exclamations, he +asked in a low tone. + +"There was somebody on that schooner this morning, Farnol?" + +"Just what I was thinking, sir." + +"He could have hidden from us. You thought he must be crazy--a crazy man +would probably have secreted himself." + +"I had it in mind, sir, the very thing." + +"Now could he possibly make a light like this?" + +Greer remained silent. The queer fellow never said anything when he had +nothing to say. + +"I'd like to go over and see," went on Leonard. "I want one man to row +with me. We want to go light and fast." + +"That's me, sir." + +Greer moved instantly to the rope ladder where the dinghy was tied. +Madden followed him. Caradoc was still explaining the theory of St. +Elmo's fire to the listening men. Madden broke in on it. + +"Fellows," he called, "Greer and I are going to row over there. We'll +let you know what we find." + +Amid warning protests the two climbed down the ladder for the small +boat. + +"I wouldn't do it, sir." "Leckricity's liable to strike you, sir." +"There's a storm comin', sir, and you won't get back, like th' mate +did." "You can see just as well from 'ere." + +But the two clambered into the half-seen dinghy and pushed off. The +moment they dipped oars into water, the mystery was partially explained. +Every stroke they made created bright phosphorescent rings in the +lifeless sea. Their blades drove through the water in a flame. The +navvies cried out at this phenomenon. A sufficient disturbance of the +sea beyond the schooner would almost explain the strange light dancing +through the rigging. But what made that disturbance? + +Reflections of the shining spars made a wavering path over the +weed-strewn water, and up this path the dinghy moved amid its own +flashing fires. It formed a queer spectacle, a glowworm creeping up on a +bonfire. + +The fact that the two boys had just traversed the Sargasso lanes a few +hours before aided them greatly now in finding their way to the +schooner. Presently they were skirting the drift of seaweed where Madden +had come so near losing his life. As they rowed, the flashing of the +water about their oars only half convinced Madden that a similar cause +underlay the bizarre illumination on the schooner. The American's mind +clung to the idea that there was somebody on board the _Minnie B_, +a madman, possibly, who in some unknown way produced this amazing light. + +He groped for some theory to account for a maniac on a deserted schooner +in these desolate seas. No doubt if a solitary man were left in these +terrible painted seas he would go insane. Madden regretted that he had +not searched the _Minnie B_ more thoroughly when he had the +opportunity. + +Similar thoughts evidenly played in Greer's mind, for presently he +puffed out, between oar strokes: "Did you bring along a pistol, sir?" + +"No, but there are two of us." + +"They say they are tremendously stout, sir." + +"We can use our oars; they'd made good clubs." + +"I'm with you, sir." + +By this time they had entered a long S-shaped rift that Madden recalled +led straight to the schooner. By glancing over his shoulder, the +American saw its two curving strokes drawn in pale light against the +dark field of seaweed. As they drew nearer, wild notions of what they +might encounter played through Madden's mind. What would be the outcome +of this fantastic adventure? + +The dinghy was moving down the middle of the long "S" when a dull noise +from the schooner caused both oarsmen to look around. Such an +extraordinary sight met their eyes that they ceased rowing completely, +and stood up in the boat to stare at their goal. + +The _Minnie B_ no longer lay at rest. Some strange and mighty +convulsion was taking place in the schooner. The lights still played +about the vessel, but her whole prow rose slowly out of the sea, while +she settled heavily by the stern. The most unexpected thing in the world +was happening. + +The _Minnie B_ was foundering! + +In the ghastly light, her masts and rigging swung in a slow drunken +reel. Presently she settled back to normal with a heavy crushing sound +as the water in her hold rushed forward. She seemed some mighty +leviathan weltering in agony. She lay on even keel for four or five +minutes while a hissing and spewing of air compressed in her hull told +she was slowly settling. + +In the ghostly light the foundering vessel gave a strange impression of +clinging desperately to her life. She seemed striving to remain upright. +Her hissing and sucking might have been a living gasp for breath. Very +slowly she rolled over, and came the noise of many waters cascading down +over her upflung keel. Her masts crashed, yards broke, rigging popped in +the wildest confusion as they dashed into the sea. Great phosphorescent +waves dashed through the prone rigging and over the hull in liquid fire. +A sea of quicksilver leaped up to lick her down. With great bubbling and +sucking and groaning, the _Minnie B_ fought for her last gasp of +life. For several minutes she lay thus, on her side, every detail +clearly delineated as liquid fire roared down her open hatches. At last, +as she filled with water, the schooner straightened with a mighty +effort, a last stand between sea and sky, then sank slowly out of sight +in a scene of wild and ill-starred beauty. Her mainpeak disappeared in a +shining maelstrom. The convulsed water flashed and hissed, and the +circling waves here torches into the dead seaweed and moved the black +fields to a whispered sighing. + +Toward the south the waves moved with great velocity and brilliance. +Indeed something seemed to be rushing away from the wreck, clad in long +winding sheets of flame. It might have been a continuation of the waves +in that direction, or it might have been some dolphin or shark flying +from the roaring vessel. + +In ghastly mystification, the two watchers stared at the last weird +gleams that marked the foundered schooner. The waves reached the dinghy, +raised it and dropped it with a slow gurgling, then died away in firefly +glimmers. The sea presented once more a dim gray surface. To Madden's +mind there came, with a sharp sense of pathos, the picture of the little +sunny-haired girl he had seen in the chart room. + +"Sunk," murmured Greer in a strange tone, "sunk--when she was as dry as +a chip." + +"Heeled over," shivered Madden, "heeled over in a dead calm--God have +mercy on us!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +CARADOC SHOWS HIS METTLE + + +Heat, that grew more terrific as the dock drifted southward; hunger, +that gnawed like rats at the empty stomachs of the crew; withering heat, +aching hunger, growing despair--that was life on the floating dock. + +Of all the crew only Gaskin remained in good condition. It would have +required more than a hero to cook food and go hungry, but the crew made +no such allowances. They berated the dignified Gaskin, they eyed each +other's scant portions jealously. Their quarrels over food at last +forced Madden to weigh each man's allowance to the fraction of an ounce. + +The nerves of the crew frayed out in the heat. By night they slept amid +tantalizing dreams of food; by day they sprawled in dreary silences +under awnings which held heat like sweat boxes. The high metal walls of +the dock caught the sun's rays and threw out a furnace heat. The men +endured it in net undershirts clinging to dripping bodies; their eyes +ached against the glare, their stomachs rebelled, their brains sickened +with monotony and despair. + +The men developed little personal traits that exasperated their mates +unreasonably. Mulcher had a way of breathing aloud through his coarse +lips that chafed Hogan's temper. For hours at a time the Irishman would +stare at those flabby spewing lips, filled with a desire to maul them. +Yet before this isolation, he had never observed that Mulcher breathed +aloud. + +The only occupation the men had now was to stare at, listen to and +criticise each other. All painting had ceased, for work consumes energy, +and energy consumes food. + +Caradoc Smith found peculiar and private grievance in the fact that +Greer often whistled to himself in a windy undertone. The tune Farnol +chose for these unfortunate performances was an American ragtime, that +repeated the same strain over and over. + +Caradoc strove not to listen to this dry whistling. Sometimes he left +his awning and climbed up the walls through the sapping sun's rays to +escape it, but his ears caught the faintly aspirated air at remarkable +distances. + +One day he said to Madden: "I don't see how you stand that Greer +fellow's eternal whistling," and Leonard answered: + +"Does Greer whistle?" + +"Whistle! He whistles everlastingly, abominably--one of those confounded +American rags. He's at it now--what is that thing?" + +Madden had to listen very carefully before he caught the faint blowing +between Farnol's lips. Presently he identified it. + +"That's 'Winona, Sweet Indian Maid.'" + +This reply seemed to arouse an irrational anger in the Briton. + +"'Winona, Sweet Indian Maid'--_sweet_ Indian Maid!" he snorted. +"Did an Indian write such a nightmare? Is it a war song? Do they murder +each other by it, or with it?" + +Madden grinned with fagged appreciation, thinking the remark meant for +humor, but Caradoc grimly chewed his blond mustache. + +It was noon, three days later when Caradoc's endurance broke down. + +"Greer!" he snapped with all his pent-up irritation in his voice, "will +you never stop mouthing that beastly tune?" + +The stolid fellow looked around in the blankest surprise. "Tune?" + +"No, groaning, wheezing! You spew it out all day long! What do you think +you are? A tree frog, a locust, a katydid? Doesn't your mouth get tired? +Does that hideous tinkle go through your hollow head all day long?" + +The Englishman's long face was a dusky red. He had not intended to be +insulting when he first spoke, but all the sarcastic and abusive +epithets that he had _thought_ during the long super-heated days of +nerve-racked listening, now rushed out like steam from a boiler. + +Farnol stared straight at the nervous fellow. "Are you insane?" he asked +in wondering contempt, + +"A wonder I'm not--with that diabolical wheezy spewing boring in my +brain--you never stop a minute--over and over----" + +"Have you run out of stolen whiskey again?" interrupted Greer with cool +malice. + +The whole crew came to hushed attention. + +Caradoc seemed to collect himself with a great effort. The blood ebbed +from his face, leaving it the color of clay. + +"Stolen?" he asked in a contained voice. "Yes, isn't there another +medicine case for you to steal?" + +"Greer!" cried Madden reproachfully. The American knew it was hunger, +heat and nerves that were nagging these two miserable men to quarrel. + +"I believe he said I was no gentleman," pronounced Greer sarcastically, +"because I didn't know a little French. I say _he's_ a thief." + +Caradoc was drawing long breaths through dilated nostrils. "Mr. Greer," +he said with cold evenness, "it is impossible to obtain swords or +pistols on this dock. We will have to fight with our hands. Choose a +second!" + +Greer nodded shortly. Both men got to their feet and both glanced at +Madden. + +The American shook his head. "I can't serve for either of you. I'm in +command here. I'm impartial." + +"Will you oblige me, Mr. Deschaillon?" asked Smith with a set face. + +The Gaul arose, saluted, military fashion, with a clicking of heels. +"Eet ees an honor, M'sieu!" + +Greer stared around dourly. "Hogan?" + +The Irishman leaped to his feet joyfully. "Oi'm wid ye, Misther Greer, +and we'll bate th' long face off th' spalpeen, though I hate to hit +Frinchy Dashalong, who is a good frind o' mine." + +All the men were up now circling about the principals. + +"You don't have to do no fightin', 'Ogan," explained Galton, "you simply +stand by and 'old up for your man, an' 'elp fan 'im 'twixt rounds." + +"Rounds!" exclaimed the disgusted Irishman. "I thought they were +choosin' sides for a free-for-all." + +Caradoc began methodically stripping to the waist and Greer followed +suit. The Englishman presented his watch to Madden with a slight bow. + +"If you'll be so kind as to keep time," he suggested, "that's a neutral +position. We fight four minutes and rest one." + +Madden considered the warlike preparations askance. He wondered if he +ought not to stop it. The Englishman might suffer another sunstroke. +However, he took his station at the ringside, and glanced at the watch, +which had a coat of arms carved on the inside of its hunting case. + +There was a striking contrast between the two fighters. The Englishman +was a beautiful taper from his great shoulders to his small aristocratic +feet. His muscles were long, graceful and knitted across his arms, +chest, and stomach like lace leather. He was built for swift enduring +action and could only have sprung from a race of men who had spent their +lives in play and luxury. + +Farnol Greer, on the other hand, was as heavily moulded as a bulldog. +His arms were short and blocky; his shoulders welted with brawn; his +chest was two hairy hills, like a gorilla's, while across his stomach +muscles lay ridged like ropes. His waist was thick with pones of sinew +bulging over the hips, as one sees in the statue of Discobolus. It was +plain that Greer had labored tremendously all his life and that his +strength was simply wonderful. + +It struck Madden as a strange coincidence that these two extreme types +of luxury and labor should meet in this furnace on the Sargasso and +fight for the trivial reason that one offended the other's sense of +music. + +"All ready!" called Leonard. + +The two men squared away at each other, Caradoc smiling sarcastically, +Greer grim as a gallows. Utter silence fell over the crowd. The fighters +crouched, bare fists up, staring at each other over the tips of their +guards. + +For a moment Smith shifted around his man on his toes. He seemed as +light as a cat. Greer stood solid and merely turned on his flat feet. +Suddenly Caradoc's long right whipped out with a crack against the +shorter man's forehead. Greer made no sign of having received a blow, +although a dull red splotch slowly formed on his frontal. Caradoc led +another right, which Greer blocked, then the Englishman bored through +with a stinging left to the hairy chest. + +"Go afther him! Kill him!" cried Hogan to his principal. "Nixt toime he +thries to hit ye, knock off his head for his impidence!" + +"Aye, 'it 'im! Don't take nothin' off of 'im!" advised two of the +cockneys. Sympathy lay with the smaller man. + +Smith continued his tiptoe dance and led a straight right. Instantly his +massive enemy ducked, leaped in under his guard, and there came the dull +thud of in-fighting; Greer's black head jammed up against Caradoc's +chin, his great muscular back bent half double, his tremendous arms +working like pistons. + +The crew howled at this sharp unexpected attack. Caradoc rescued himself +by shoving open palms against the big bulging shoulders, and pushing +himself away from this battering ram. Smith bumped into some onlookers, +and got behind his guard some ten feet away from Greer. The Englishman's +fine-grained stomach was covered with pink welts from his punishment. He +had ceased smiling and was watching his man carefully. As a matter of +fact, he had expected to dispose of Greer easily--as a gentleman +disposes of a clod-hopper. But the heavy-set boy's method of fighting +was new and effective. Likewise there seemed to be a certain grim system +about it. + +"First round is over!" called Madden. + +"Phwat a shame!" cried Hogan. + +With English love of fair fight, the cockneys divided themselves +impartially between the battlers and converted themselves into impromptu +rubbers and handlers. There was perhaps not a man in the crowd who liked +Caradoc; nevertheless they hustled him to his awning, put him down on a +box, procured towels, water, sponges from somewhere, and set up a +vigorous fanning and rubbing, all out of a desire to see fair play. At +the end of a minute they carried their champions back and set them +facing each other like human game cocks. + +Farnol dashed in at once, whipping right and left hooks to Smith's +sides. Caradoc tore himself away and played for distance, stabbing at +Farnol's head at long range. The short youth accepted with indifference +punishment that cut cheeks and lips. He made rush after rush, driving +Caradoc into the crowd, who immediately shifted back and made room. Time +and again he landed terrific short arm jolts over heart and kidneys. + +The sweating bodies of the fighters glistened in the roasting sunshine. +Both were bruised, Smith's body, Greer's head and shoulders. Caradoc's +mouth felt slimy and he spit at nothing. + +The fighting went in spurts, Greer rushing Land Smith dancing away and +stabbing. The two gangs of rubbers bawled encouragement to their men. + +"Land on 'is nose there, Smith!" shouted Mulcher. "Don't let 'im to ye! +Play away, play away, me boy! Now huppercut 'im! Huppercut 'im, I say!" + +On the other side, Galton was shrieking hoarsely, "Bore in, Greer! Bore +in, me lad!" and Hogan, "G'wan and mash the spalpeen's ribs! Br-reak his +long nick! Cr-rush him! Why don't ye hit him on th' head and lay him +out?" + +"Time's up!" announced Madden. + +During the following rounds, Caradoc stuck to the long range English +method of fighting, but over and over Farnol broke through his guard and +his short-arm jabs spread a sick numb feeling over Caradoc's sides and +chest. + +The Briton deliberately worked for Greer's eyes. His first round with +the silent man convinced him that he would never be able to stop that +massive steel body with a knock-out. On the other hand Greer covered up +tightly and lunged like a tiger after Smith's stomach and endurance. + +Two or three weeks before, Caradoc could never have withstood that +terrific bombardment, but his hard life on the dock, his abstinence from +alcohol, and the fact that tobacco had long ago run out, all this had +armored his body with hard flesh. + +The opening of the twelfth round found both fighters blown, bleeding and +filled with a desperate determination to end the contest. They formed a +ghastly sight when they were pitted in what proved to be the final +clash. Greer's face was chopped and bleeding, while Caradoc's ribs were +a mass of bruises, as mottled as a leopard's skin. + +To Caradoc, the whole dock seemed unsteady. The sun bored into the back +of his head. The men had ceased yelling, and the circle silently swayed +back and forth to give the battlers room. The whole scene was hazy and +fantastic. + +The Englishman put up his hands automatically when he faced his enemy, +and the next moment black-haired blocky bull of a fellow charged +furiously. Smith tried to stop him with a heavy right hand smash, but +his fist glanced off the man's sweaty shoulder. The next moment, Greer's +right landed in a fierce solid jolt on Smith's hip bone. A sickening +pain went through the Englishman. He sagged away and went down on a +knee, hunched forward, trying to protect his face with his gloves. Greer +Started another rush, when Madden jumped in, put a hand on his shoulder. + +"You can't hit him while he's down!" he shouted in the bull's ear, and +then the American began counting: "One, two, three..." + +Caradoc rested with his broad chest panting convulsively up and down +till the count of eight. Then he sprang backwards away from his enemy. +Curiously enough, Greer did not press his advantage home. The heavy +lad came forward but stood away from Caradoc, attempting nothing but +left-hand jabs. + +In an instant Smith saw what was the matter. That blow on the hip had +ruined Greer's right hand, strained it, perhaps broken it. Greer's +rushes had stopped, and Smith, who was a boxer, not a fighter, could +stand off and peck at his man's eyes or jaw without danger to himself. + +He hitched wearily up to his enemy, blocked Greer's left hand and let +his right have a full swing at his exposed body. Farnol went through the +motion of striking, but his blow was a mere tap and caused the heavy +fellow to cringe with pain. + +[Illustration: Caradoc Stands the Acid Test.] + +Caradoc swung a light blow to the neck. Greer countered fiercely with +his left, but it was parried easily. + +Suddenly the crowd understood what had happened. + +"Put 'im out!" "Finish 'im!" "Put 'im to sleep!" bawled a chorus. "He +hit you below th' belt w'en 'e broke 'is 'and!" + +Farnol continued his chopping one-armed fight. "Put me out! Put me out!" +he bubbled furiously. "I said ye was a thief! You _are_ a thief! +You're a thief!" and he accented his charges with stabs. + +Smith side-stepped the harmless attack, letting it slide first to one +side then the other, men were so tired they could hardly keep their +feet. The Englishman looked down on the stubborn fellow, with his +chopped, bleeding face and blackened, defiant eyes. A hard swing at +unprotected jaw would stretch him out in broiling heat, but he did not +make the blow. Instead he pushed the frothing fellow away from him. + +"Go to your corner and cool off," he panted. "Yes, I'm a thief. Go on +away; I don't want knock you out." + +He turned his back deliberately and walked to his own awning. The crowd +stared, absolutely dumfounded by this unexpected turn of affairs. Greer +himself stared, then moved forward automatically to continue his +onslaught, when Hogan grabbed him. + +"Come on back," cried the Irishman. "Th' scoundrel has lift ye no ixcuse +to fight him any more. He says he's a thafe, but I don't belave Come git +a wash and let's wrap up yer hand." + +At that moment the dignified voice of Gaskin came from the forward +pontoon. The crew hushed their hot comments on the fight to listen. + +"A sail," called the cook. "A sail to th' sou'west, sir!" + +Instantly every man moved forward. The fight was forgot in the great +hope of a rescue. Even the gory looking principals hurried forward to +see if such welcome news could be true. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE RETURN OF THE _VULCAN_ + + +Etched against the horizon lay a stumpy masted vessel that seemed as +still and dead as ocean that rotted around it. She had not a sail aloft +nor a plume of smoke in her funnel. For the moment this lifelessness was +not observed by the hungry castaways. A joyous medley arose from the +dock. + +"Th' _Vulcan_! Hit's th' _Vulcan_! Th' good _Vulcan_! +We'll 'ave full rations t'night, 'at will! Hurrah!" + +They fell to cheering. Voices arose in confusion. + +"_Vulcan_ ahoy! _Vulcan_ ah-o-oy!" they bellowed in an effort +to span the miles with human ices. + +"Say, lads, she ain't movin'!" cried someone making the surprising +discovery. + +"Faith and phwat's th' matter with _her_ now?" exclaimed Hogan in +exasperated wonder. + +A silence fell over the boisterous group. + +"Out o' coal," hazarded Galton, "that's w'y she harsn't got back no +sooner." + +"W'ere's 'er sails, then?" + +"A tug couldn't do nothin' with sails--she isn't made for sails!" + +"It ain't w'ot ye're made for, hit's w'ot ye can git in this blarsted +sea!" + +"Maybe 'er machin'ry's broke?" + +"Maybe they're hall sick?" + +"Or dead?" + +"Maybe----" + +Madden hurried to his cabin and returned with binoculars. The men +foregathered curiously about him as he scanned the vessel. He ran his +eyes over the tub from stem to poop. She stood out with absolute +distinctness in the glaring light. He could see her high prow, the +swinging buffers along her side, the wide-mouthed ventilators. He could +even make out her name in rusty letters under the wheel-house. Her small +boats were in place, but he saw neither life nor movement aboard. She +appeared as deserted as a pile of scrap iron. + +"W'ot are they doin'?" queried Galton. + +"Nothing." Madden was puzzled over the strange condition of the tug. + +"Ain't they crowdin' to th' side, sir, lookin' at us and fixin' to come +to us?" + +"Nobody's on her," replied Madden. "At least I don't see anyone." + +"W'ot! W'ot! Nobody on 'er! Is she deserted, too? Just like the +_Minnie B_!" chorused apprehensive voices. + +"Seems so," frowned Madden, then he made up his mind quickly and moved +over to the small boat which had been hauled up on the forward pontoon. + +"Fall to, men, lower that dinghy. We'll go over and see what's the +trouble." + +The crew went about their task with a sudden slump of enthusiasm. + +"If the crew's gone, sir," mumbled one of the men, as he paid out the +rope, "w'ot's the use goin' across?" + +"To get to the tug, of course." + +"An'w'ot'll we do?" + +Madden looked hard at the cockney. "Get the provisions aboard if nothing +else." + +"There wasn't none on the _Minnie B_, sir." + +"What's the _Minnie B_ got to do with the _Vulcan_? We're +going to run the tug and dock out of this sea, crew or no crew--ease +away on that rope, Mulcher. Let go! Now climb down, Galton, loose the +tackle and swing her in alongside the ladder." + +When the cockneys obeyed, Madden ordered the whole crew into the small +boat. They climbed down the ladder one by one with a reluctance Madden +did not quite understand at the time. + +Fifteen minutes later, the little boat, loaded down to her gunwales, +set out for the tug. Four oarsmen rowed, one man to the oar. The slow +clacking of shafts in tholes echoed sharply from the huge walls of the +dock as the dinghy drew away through the burning sunshine. + +At some half-mile distance, the harsh outlines of the walls and pontoons +changed subtly into a great wine-red castle, that lay on a colorful +tapestry of seaweed, with a background of blue ocean and bronze sky. + +As he drew away, Madden had a premonition that the dock was vanishing +out of his life and sight, that never again would he live in its great +walls. Like all crafts in this mysterious sea, it seemed completely +forsaken, deserted. With a shake of his shoulders he put the thought +from him and turned to face the future in the motionless tug that lay +ahead. + +Half an hour later the dinghy drew alongside the silent _Vulcan_ +and the crew clambered aboard. As they had suspected, there was no sign +of the tug's crew aboard. + +Although the binoculars had forewarned them of this, the adventurers +bunched together on the deck with a qualmish feeling and began talking +in low tones, as men converse in the presence of mystery, or death. + +"We'll search her first," directed Madden, in a tone he tried to make +natural. + +"Yes," agreed Greer, "and, men, keep a sharp eye out for lunatics. Don't +let anything jump on you----" + +"Lunatics!" gasped Mulcher. + +"Greer and I fancied someone scuttled the _Minnie B_," explained +Madden with a frown, "but that's no sign such a person is aboard the +_Vulcan_." + +"They are wonderful like, sir," observed Gaskin. + +"Anyway we'll look her over." + +The men agreed and began scattering away, two by two for companionship. +Presently from the port side Hogan raised his voice guardedly. + +"Oh, Misther Madden, just stip this way a moment, if you plaze." + +The call instantly attracted several other men. They moved across deck. +Hogan was pointing. "Jist th' same as th' other wan," he said gloomily +and significantly. "We knew it would be this way, sir. It was th' same +hand as done it" + +Leonard looked with rising dismay at the sinister parallel. + +The _Vulcan_ also was lying at sea anchor. + +In brief, here was conclusive proof that the tug had been abandoned +deliberately and with forethought by Malone, Captain Black and the whole +_Vulcan_ crew. Moreover, as in the case of the _Minnie B_, they +had deserted their ship without taking a boat or even so much as a +life buoy. + +The amazed group of men collected about them other members of the +searching party, who stuck their heads out of ports and doors now and +then to see that no evil magic had set the rigging in flames. + +"They all go th' same way," mumbled Hogan, staring at the anchor and +wetting his dry lips. "Oi'm thinkin' it'll be our toime nixt." + +"Piffle," derided the American half-heartedly. + +"It makes no difference what happens," put in Caradoc, "we'll see the +thing through." + +For some reason the men thought better of Smith since the fight and his +crisp announcement cheered them somewhat. + +"She's got plenty o' coal," volunteered Galton. + +"'Er engines look all right," contributed Mulcher, "though I know +bloomin' little about hengines." + +"I weesh I knew what happened to the men," worried Deschaillon in his +filed-down accent. + +"My quistion ixactly, Frinchy," nodded Hogan emphatically. "Misther +Madden says 'Piffle,' but Oi say where are they piffled to? Did they go +over in a storm, or die of fever, or run crazy with heat?" + +"They didn't starve," declared Mulcher, "for some of th' fellows are in +th' cook's galley now eatin'." + +Madden lifted his hand for attention, "There's no use speculating on +what has happened. It's our job to get dock and tug to the nearest +port." + +"But suppose--suppose----" + +"Suppose what?" + +"Suppose th' thing gits arfter us, sir?" + +Madden stared, "Thing--what thing?" + +The cockney frowned, looked glumly across deck. Galton answered, + +"W'y, sir, th' thing that run th' crew hoff the _Minnie B_ an' hoff +th' _Vulcan_. Crews don't 'op hoff in th' hocean for amoosement, +sir. Some'n' done hit an' that's sure." + +"Do you mean you object to sailing this tug on account of some imaginary +_thing_?" demanded Madden in utter surprise. + +"Imaginary, sir!" protested Mulcher, "If you please, us lads on th' +dock, the night th' _Minnie B_ sunk, saw something swim off to th' +south wrapped hall over in fire, sir. Imaginary thing! It bit a 'ole in +th' _Minnie B_ an' sunk 'er, sir!" + +This recalled to Leonard's mind the peculiar phenomenon he had witnessed +at the sinking of the _Minnie B_. + +"What do you think the thing is?" he temporized. + +"A--A sea sorpint, sir," stammered a cockney embarrassed. + +"Sea serpent! Sea serpent!" scouted the American. "There is no such +thing as a sea serpent!" + +"That's w'ot th' hofficers always say," growled Mulcher. + +"But it is a scientific fact--there's no such thing." + +The well-fed Gaskin, who formed one of the group, made a bob. "That may +well be, sor," he said in solemn deference, "but w'ether there is or +isn't such a thing, sor, it's 'orrible to see, either way." + +From the banding of the men against him, Madden became aware that they +had decided on the real cause of the mystery behind his back, and he +would have hard work to argue them out of the sea serpent idea. + +"You boys saw a shark or porpoise swimming away from that schooner," he +began patiently. "I saw it myself. You recall, on that night anything +that moved in the water burned like fire. The ship was brilliant, the +oars of the dinghy shone. The thing you saw had nothing to do with the +schooner." + +"Then w'ot sunk 'er, sor?" + +"Aye, an' w'ot come of 'er men, sor?" + +"Aye, an w'ot come of th' _Vulcan's_ crew?" + +"Could a sea serpent put out a sea anchor?" retorted Leonard. + +The men stared doggedly at their chief. "We don't know, sor." + +"You do know that it is impossible!" + +"If there ain't no such thing, sor, 'ow do we know w'ot it can do?" +questioned Gaskin. + +"Then do you want to go back and stay on the dock and starve?" cried +Madden at the end of his patience. + +There was a silence at the anger in his tone, then Gaskin began very +placatingly, "Hi'm not wishin' to chafe ye, sor, but th' dock is so big +th' lads 'ave decided the sorpint is afraid o' th' dock." + +At Leonard's impatient gesture he added hastily, "Not that Hi believe in +such things, sor, but Hi carn't 'elp but notice that hever'body on th' +dock is alive, an' hever'body on th' other two wessels is dead an' gone, +sor." + +Madden turned sharply on his heel. "Anybody who knows anything about +marine engines, follow me," he snapped. "We must study out a way to +start the _Vulcan's_ machinery. We're going!" + +As he moved down to the doorway amidship that led below, he heard Galton +mumble: "Yes, _we'll_ be going, Hi think, down some sea sorpint's +scaly throat, but th' tug an' th' dock'll stay 'ere." + +If a view of the _Minnie B's_ auxiliary engines had put hopeful +notions in Madden's head of puzzling out their control by mere +inspection, a single glance at the huge machinery of the _Vulcan_ +filled him with despair. + +The tug's hull was practically filled with a maze of machinery. Her +engines arose in a tower of bracings, wheels, gearing, pistons, steam +pipes, steam valves, with a multitude of the eccentrics and trip +gearings used on quadruple expansion engines. + +Although he had seen hundreds of steam engines, never before had Madden +realized their complication until he faced the problem of running this +difficult fabric. His proposed task made him realize that the engineer's +apprentice, who serves four years amid oil and iron black, learning all +the details of these mechanical monsters, is probably just as well +educated, just as capable of exact and sustained thought, as the lad who +spends four years in college construing dead tongues. + +Madden could construe dead tongues, or at least could when he left +college a few months back, but now his life, the life of his crew, the +salving of the dock, and the winning of a possible fortune, depended +upon his answering the riddle of this Twentieth Century Sphinx. It was +like attempting to understand all mathematics, from addition to +celestial mechanics, at a glance. + +Nevertheless, Madden's training as a civil engineer gave him a certain +aptitude for his formidable undertaking and he set about it with +rat-like patience. + +He picked out the main steam pipe, larger than his body, covered with +painted white canvas, and followed this till he discovered the throttle, +a steel wheel with hand grips with which he could choke the breath out +of the monster engines. Beside this were control levers. On the steam +chest lay a half-smoked cigarette, as if the engineer had been called +suddenly away from his post. + +Madden turned the throttle, pushed the levers back and forth, and +listened to clicking sounds high up in the complexity of the engines. He +knew that every lever threw long systems of vents and valves in and out +of play. A wrong combination would easily wreck all this powerful +machinery. He was tackling a delicate job--like juggling a car-load of +dynamite. + +An oil can sat under the throttle. The amateur engineer picked up this +and a handful of greasy tow. Engines require constant oiling. Madden had +never watched an engineer ten minutes but that he went about poking a +long crooked-necked oil can into all sorts of hidden inaccessible +places. + +Madden thought if he tried to oil the engine, he might learn something +about it. He glanced around for the usual myriad little shining brass +oil cups stuck, one on each bearing. To his surprise, he saw none. The +machinery of the _Vulcan_ was lubricated by a circulatory +compression system, which used the same oil over and over. Madden did +not know this, so it threw him off the track at his first step. + +No one had followed the boy into the engine room, so now he was about to +go on deck and commandeer a squad, when, to his surprise, Galton +appeared at the top of the circular stairs, whistling a rather cheerful +tune. He leaned over the rail and called down heartily: + +"Do you want me, Mr. Madden?" + +"Yes, come along. I wish you knew something about machinery." + +Galton laughed buoyantly. "I'm not such a chump at hit, sor," he +recommended. + +"You know something about it?" inquired Madden in surprise. + +"A bit, a bit, Mr. Madden. My brother Charley is chief engineer on the +_Rajah_ in the P & O, sor." + +"Ever work under him?" asked the American hopefully. + +"Two years, only two years, sor. Never did finish my term an' get my +papers. Often's the time 'e's begged me to do it, Mr. Madden. 'E'd say, +''Enry, me boy, w'y don't ye finish your term and git a screw o' sixteen +pun' per, but I was allus a----" + +"That's all right!" cried Leonard delightedly. "I don't care whether +you're a full-fledged engineer or not. You're hired for this job. +Understand? You'll get full wages, and then some. I'll----" + +"Oh! I can 'andle a little hengine like this, sor. That's th' +inspirator, sor," he pointed. "That's th' steam chist. In th' other end +is th' condensing chamber. That little hegg-shaped thing is----" + +"That's all right; I'm no examining board. Just so you can run it and +keep it running. Now I'll get a gang at the furnace, if the boys have +got over their sea-serpent scare by this time." + +"They're jolly well over that, sor. Me and Mulcher 'ave decided as 'ow +we're goin' to kill that sea sorpint, if it comes a-bitin' into our tug, +sor." + +Madden looked at his willing helper curiously. "Kill it--how are you +going to kill it?" + +"Dead, sor, yes, kill it dead, sor." Galton nodded solemnly, "My brother +Charley, cap'n o' th' _Cambria_, sir, in th' 'Amburg-American Line, +'e learned me to kill sea sorpints, w'en I was jest a l-little bit of +a--a piker, sor. An' I n-never forgot 'ow 'e told me to do it. You climb +up th' mainmast, sor, w'ere you can git at their 'eads, cross your +fingers for luck, an' blow tobacco smoke in their eyes. They 'ate +tobacco smoke an----" + +Leonard stared at the fellow, with a sinking heart. He was drunk. As to +whether he knew anything about marine engines or not, there was no way +to find out. + +The effect of the long strain of heat, hunger and anxiety now told on +Madden in a wave of unreasonable exasperation. + +"You boozy fool!" snapped the officer, "you haven't sense enough to run +a go-cart. Go down and start a fire in the furnace--can you do that?" + +"Shertainly," nodded Galton gravely, "Mr. Madden, I can do anything. Go +bring me th' furnace, and I'll put a fire in it _that_ quick. I'll +start it now." + +Here he stooped unsteadily, picked up a piece of oily tow, and before +Madden knew what he was about, drew out a match and set fire to the +greasy mass. + +Leonard made a jump, planted a cracking blow between Galton's eyes. The +fellow went down like a tenpin and lay still. The American stamped out +the blazing tow before the fire spread on the oily floor. + +Just then he heard a yelling from the upper deck. Hardly knowing what to +expect, he dived for the circular stairway and rushed up three steps at +a jump. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE SEA SERPENT + + +When a new crew is shipped on an old vessel, the mate's first duty is to +search the sailors' dunnage for whiskey; when an old crew is shipped on +a new vessel, that officer would do well to search the vessel for rum. + +Madden had neglected this. While the American was in the engine room, +the cockneys in the cook's galley had found intoxicants, had poured raw +whiskey into their empty stomachs and the result was the quickest and +most complete intoxication. When Madden regained the deck he found his +crew singing, laughing, fighting, quarreling in an absurd medley. + +Deschaillon roared out a French song. Two cockneys quarreled bitterly +over what words he was saying. Mike Hogan jigged to the Frenchman's +tune, but shouted as he danced that he was spoiling for a fight. The +smell of spirits reeked over the tug as if someone had sprinkled her +deck with liquor. + +Madden looked with anxious eyes for Caradoc, but did not see him. Smith +was probably stuck away in some hole, senseless with poison, his effort +at sobriety frustrated, his moral courage shattered, his weeks of +painful reform smashed. + +Whatever humor there might have been in the ill-starred situation was +destroyed for Madden by his friend's moral relapse. It was much as if +some invalid, nursing a broken leg, should fall and break it over again. + +Gaskin was the first man who came in reach of the wrathful American. +Madden caught his arm, whirled him about. + +"You ladle rum out to these hogs?" he blazed. + +Gaskin revolved with dignity and considered his accuser. "You wouldn't +think Hi'd do such a thing, sor!" + +"Then how did they get it?" Leonard shook the fat arm sharply. + +"In spite o' me, sor! In spite o' me!" defended the cook, shaking his +fat jowls earnestly. "Hi rebooked 'em, sor. Says Hi, 'Gents, this is +lootin', it is piratin', it is----'" + +"You should have refused them a drop!" + +"Refuse--Hi did refuse, sor! Hi did more. Hi blocked 'em! Hi--Hi fought +hout, like a demon, sor! There were too many! Hoverpowered me, sor, they +did! I was fightin' and blockin', fightin' and blockin', like a d-demon, +sor, b-but--b-but----" + +Here Gaskin's utterance grew thicker, his fat head bobbed, then he +slithered down by the rail in the hot sunshine; his face stared skyward +and stewed sweat in the terrific heat. Madden gave a grunt of disgust. +Gaskin was fast asleep. + +There was nothing to be done. The men were drunk and he would have to +wait till they became sober before making an attempt to run the +_Vulcan_. He stood a moment, staring disgustedly at his useless +crew, then finally stooped and dragged Gaskin to the shady side of the +superstructure. As he passed with his burden some of the men made clumsy +tangle-footed efforts to salute. + +In the shade Leonard found a deck chair, perched himself on its arm so +as not to touch its hot canvas, and sat brooding glumly. He banished the +drunken uproar from his brain and began totting up his prospects for +escape from this foully beautiful sea. His mind jumped from topic to +topic in an exhausted fashion. He wondered whether or not Galton really +knew anything of marine engines? If the dock would be discovered by a +passing ship? If the tug's crew had really gone demented and leaped +overboard? If there were any connection between the fate of the +_Minnie B_ and the _Vulcan_? + +It seemed to Madden that he had been in the heat and brilliant +garishness of the Sargasso for centuries. He wondered if the men would +become so starved that they would draw lots to see who should be killed +and eaten. + +Anything, everything, was possible in this isolated sea. Its normal +happenings were unreasonable. It was a place of madness. He recalled the +words of the navvy on the London dock, "Everything is unreasonable at +sea." Certainly that was true of the vast stewing labyrinth of the +Sargasso. He had lived abnormally so long that it seemed strange to him +now to think that there were comfortable, well-ordered places on the +face of the earth. Just as one cannot imagine snow and ice in the depth +of summer, so Madden could not imagine the simple comforts of life. It +seemed to him the whole world shriveled under a furnace heat. + +Such heat, such congestion, he thought, might well breed sea-monsters. +After all, why should there not be a sea monster? Who could be sure that +the old megalosauri, and megalichthys were extinct? Those monsters +existed once upon a time, certainly. He was half persuaded that they +still existed. + +A sea serpent! + +He wondered what a sea serpent would look like? One might well drive a +man insane, cause him to leap overboard in utter horror. + +His feverish brooding was interrupted by a wild flood of abuse from the +starboard deck. It was Galton's voice bellowing: + +"Were is 'e? Were is that bloody Hamerican? 'E 'it me! 'It me in th' eye +for trying to 'elp 'im! You lads goin' to see me murdered for nothin'?" + +Came a medley of drunken questions: + +"W'ot's th' matter? Who bloodied your bloomin' eyes? W'ot 'appened?" + +"That Hamerican chap!" bawled Galton savagely. "'E 'it me for 'elpin' +'im make a fire! Goin' to see me run over an' killed?" + +"Faith Oi didn't see nawthin'," panted Malone, fresh from his dance + +"Won't you stan' by a Hinglishman?" shouted the battered one. + +"Sure we will!" + +"We're Hinglish!" + +"Le's 'lect 'nother hofficer an' court martial 'im!" bawled the sailor +venomously. + +"Sure, make 'im walk a plank!" + +"Son of a shark!" + +"Man-killin' crimp!" + +The whole crew came lurching around toward Madden, filled with the wordy +anger of intoxicated men. + +The American arose to his feet with little emotion save a return of his +old disgust. He knew he could defend himself from any assault the crew +might make in that condition. But they made none. They stopped a little +way from him, some drunkenly grave, others winking or leering, some +abusive and threatening. + +"Go'n' tuh 'lect 'nother captain," announced Mulcher thickly. "You no +reg'lar hofficer!" + +"You 'it a man for 'elpin' you, and 'urt 'is eye!" + +"Make 'im walk a plank!" flared out Galton, shaking a big fist at +Leonard. "Make 'im walk a plank!" Leonard observed that the fellow's +nose and forehead were badly bruised, and dark circles had settled under +his eyes. He started for Madden, when Hogan caught him under the arms. + +"Phwat you talkin' about, old scout? Walk a plank--you have to court +martial him first." + +"I don't b'lieve 'e can walk a plank," surmised a cockney gravely. +"'E's too drunk; 'e'd fall hoff." + +"Where's Farnol Greer, Mulcher?" snapped Madden disgustedly. "Is he +drunk, too?" + +"D-drunk--you don't think we're drunk, sor?" + +"We 'ave been drinkin' a little, sor, but we're not drunk." + +"Oi am," nodded Hogan, resting his chin on Galton's shoulder as if from +deep affection. + +"Oi don't a--ack loike it, you--hic--you couldn't tell it on me, b-but +Oi--Oi--Oi'm drunk, aw roight." + +"I theenk Greer ees in the cook's galley," smiled Deschaillon, who +appeared to be rational; then he added coolly: "Eef there ees any +fighting, I weel help you, Meester Madden." + +"Cook's galley!" sputtered Mulcher. "'E's drinkin' hit ever' drop, lads; +come on!" + +"An' th' grub, too!" added Hogan. + +This news completely disorganized the court martial and election +committee. Galton himself forgot his revenge in his thirst. They +started aft pellmell in confused haste to help Greer finish the rum. + +Leonard made no objection. They were already drunk. They might as well +dispose of the liquor once for all, and then it would trouble discipline +no more. + +When the men and their turmoil had disappeared, Madden remained on deck, +filled with a dull, heavy feeling of lassitude and bitterness. It was +one of those moments when a man's hope is swamped in present +difficulties. + +The sun swung slowly down into the western sea, and its reflections made +long blinding streaks in the Sargasso. Its yellow light transformed the +great red dock into an orange structure that rested on the sea as +lightly as the pavilions of the evening clouds. + +The perpetual bizarre beauty of the scene was tiring to the youth. For +some reason he thought again of the sea serpent. It occurred to Madden +that an enormous scaly thing, in vivid spangling colors, embossed with +sword-like spines, with a long convoluted tail, huge red-fanged mouth, +would be in keeping with the scene before him, would indeed produce a +gorgeously decorative effect, such as he had seen in Chinese pictures. + +His thoughts took all sorts of queer turns. He wondered what he would do +if he should see such a creature? He walked over and stood by the rail, +staring intently into the colorful west, half expecting to see some wild +dragon of his imagination. If it should come, he wished for a camera--a +moving picture camera. A moving picture of a dragon attacking a ship! + +Just then he caught a strange noise that seemed to emanate from the air +above his head. He stood quite still, hands on rail, listening. It was +repeated. It was a human noise. It seemed to come from the vacant +bronze-colored sky above his head. He wondered if he were going insane? +Just then he caught sight of Caradoc's torso thrust out from a barrel up +in the shrouding of the foremast. The crew of the _Vulcan_ had run +up the barrel like a whaler's lookout to post a watch. Into this barrel +Caradoc had climbed. + +The face of Smith wore a strained, desperate look. Madden stared at him +for several seconds, quite taken aback by finding him in such an +unexpected place. One thing, however, filled the American with deep +gratification. The man was not drunk. + +"What you doing up there?" called Madden in surprise. + +Caradoc's broad shoulders sagged drearily. "I don't know," he said +dully. "I fancy I might as well jump overboard and be done with it." + +Madden became instantly alert. "Jump overboard! What for?" A sudden +thought hit him. Maybe this was the way they all went? Then another fear +entered his heart. + +"Say, have you seen anything up there, Smith?... A dragon, or... sea +serpent, or..." Madden stared dumbfounded at his friend, marveling what +manner of sight had put suicidal thoughts into Smith's head. + +"Heavens, yes... dragons, dragons, dragons!" + +A weak, watery feeling went through Madden's legs. He felt doddery. +"Many dragons!" All idea of beauty was lost in grisly horror. + +"W-wait a m-minute!" he chattered. "D-don't j-jump--I'm coming up +th-there!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +CARADOC WINS HIS FIGHT + + +Trembling all over, Madden gained the barrel and stepped through a niche +in its side. He stared through the brilliant, hot colors, but no rushing +horde of monsters met his eyes. + +"Which way?" he asked breathlessly. + +Caradoc looked around at him in uncomprehending misery. There was just +room for the two in the barrel. Smith seemed to put his mind to Madden's +question with an effort. + +"Which--what did you say?" + +"Which way?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"The dragons, man, the dragons!" + +"Dragons--right here!" Smith beat his broad chest, then waved his long +arms about. "Everywhere--don't you smell it?" + +The idea of smelling dragons confused the American. "Smell what?" + +"The whiskey!" shivered Caradoc. "I came up here to get away from it." + +"Oh--so you didn't see--I understand!" + +"It's tantalizing--horrible!" he shivered again, as if the superheated +air chilled him. + +The American's own foolish fancies vanished in the face of his friend's +real trouble. Caradoc had met a dragon more terrible than the Sargasso +could conjure up, and its fangs were in his heart. His flight to the +crow's nest had been an effort to escape its fury, but it had followed +him there. Leonard put a hand on his friend's shoulder. He was at a loss +what to say. Indeed there was nothing to say. + +"Habit--queer thing, Leonard--I thought I was all right." + +"Yes?" + +"You see, in college I used to take an alcohol rub-down after my bouts, +and a drink. And now, after my fight at noon--smelling this--you don't +know how it brings it back, appetite, recollections, everything----" he +waved his hands hopelessly again. + +"Don't think of it. Put your mind on something else." + +Caradoc gave a short mirthless laugh. "Stand in a fire--and consider the +lilies?" + +"We've got to consider how we'll ever get out of here, if we can't run +this tug's engines..." + +"We're stuck! We're stuck!" declared the Englishman miserably. "I don't +see why I don't go down and be a hog again... we'll finally starve... +Somehow I had a mind to die sober... God knows why I ever came on such a +junket." + +"Starve nothing. We'll get out somehow. We can fish and eat seaweed and +distill our own water. I can make a still. And you'll get over that +appetite. Bound to--can't last always." + +Smith relapsed into silence, staring over the dying colors of the sea. +Madden tried to think of simple remedies to abate a drunkard's appetite +for alcohol. He had heard of apples, lemon juice, but both were as +unobtainable as the gold cure itself. + +"How long have you been like this?" he asked at last. + +"Been bad two or three years. Drank some all my life. My governor taught +it to me when I was a baby. Then when I got older if I went too far he +kicked. Naturally I intended to stop in time, till I slipped in deep." + +Leonard nodded understandingly. "It always gets a nervous high-strung +fellow. The better stuff you are the harder it hits you." + +Caradoc stared moodily seaward as he continued his recollections. + +"The governor kept warning me. I don't believe he'd ever have kicked me +out, but he died. Then they cashiered me--took my commission--and my +family let me go, too... Well, I can't blame 'em." + +"Your commission--in the army?" + +"Navy." + +"What were you?" + +"Second lieutenant." + +Madden looked at his friend curiously. Here was a queer pass for an +English naval officer. This revelation explained a good deal about +Smith, his autocratic manner, his many-sided education, his emotion at +leaving England. It even explained why he had expected Malone to place +him in charge of the dock. + +"Is there any hope of getting back in?" asked Leonard sympathetically. + +"Instauration! Never knew of such a thing in our navy. If I ever get out +of here I'll go in trade somewhere." + +"In South America?" + +"I had British Honduras in mind, or Canada. I'd like to keep in the +Empire." + +A noise below interrupted the conversation. The two youths looked down. +The deck plan of the tug lay flat and empty save for the inert form of +Gaskin. The noise came from inside the cabin and arose to a shouting. It +was a drunken ribald sound. A suspicion flashed on Leonard's mind. + +"Those pigs below are wasting the stores," he declared. + +"They ought to be stopped." + +"I couldn't stop them without a fight. They were about to court martial +me when they happened to think of something else." + +Caradoc stared down in the direction of the noise, "I might talk them +into sense if Greer isn't drunk and wanting to fight again." + +"He said he never drank--I don't know." + +Caradoc nodded, "I'll go down and send them forward," he asserted with +conviction, and started to climb out of the barrel. + +Madden looked at the Englishman with a certain apprehension, "Caradoc, +if you go down there where they are drinking, won't you----" + +"No, I'm not going to drink." + +"It will be a temptation." + +"I have myself in hand now. This talk has done me good. No, I'm all +right." He swung out of the barrel and started down the ratlines. + +Leonard watched him anxiously, not at all sure of the outcome of his +mission, not at all sure that the hot smell of rum in the galley would +not again overcome his resistance. + +The sun was just dipping into the sea and its last light spread out of +the west to the zenith like a huge red-gold fan. Purplish shadows had +already begun to dim the tug and dock and ocean. + +Fifteen or twenty degrees above the sunset shone a pale crescent moon in +the burnished sky. The sight of the moon somehow cheered Madden. He +recalled a childish superstition that it was good luck to see the new +moon clear. At any rate, as the sky darkened, the clear new moon brought +Leonard comfort and renewed hope. + +With a grateful feeling of the providence of an Almighty that hung out +moon and stars, the youth glanced around the darkening horizon and +presently observed a tiny light far to the south. He stared at it quite +surprised, and then he chanced to see a star just above it. It was the +reflection of Sirius in Canis Major. + +The beam of a star must lead any thoughtful soul into endless reveries. +Beneath its calm and infinite light, all human troubles fade to the +brief complaining of a child in the night. Death becomes a small, +unfeared thing, and life itself, the trail of a finger writing an +unknown message upon water. + +Filled with such musings, the American noted with surprise that the +light on the sea which he had fancied to be the reflection of Sirius was +moving. It was not the reflection of a star. + +It was a light moving in the gathering darkness. + +What sort of light could it be? A Will o' the Wisp? A Jack o' Lantern, +some phosphoric phenomenon rising in the exhalations of rotting seaweed? + +Ten minutes before, his excited imagination would have conjured up +hydras and dragons; now he scrutinized the mysterious illumination +unexcitedly. It winked out occasionally, then presently reappeared. But +it did not move in an aimless fashion, after the manner of gaseous or +electrical phenomena. It pursued a straight line toward the +_Vulcan_. That was why Madden had not observed its movement sooner. + +Although it had crept only a little way down from the horizon, the +wondering boy could discern its progress plainly among the dark masses +of seaweed that blotched the graying water. The light was moving toward +the _Vulcan_ and at a high rate of speed. + +As he watched it, the enigmatical light suddenly disappeared. The youth +blinked his eyes, looked again. It was gone. Then he became a little +uncertain whether or not he had ever observed any such phenomenon. He +glanced down on the dark deck and could faintly discern the form of the +cook. + +"Gaskin!" he called sharply, "Gaskin!" + +To his surprise the drunken fellow stirred and made some mumbling reply. + +"Get up. I want to know whether or not you can see anything." + +Came a sluggish stirring from below, and then Gaskin's voice, in which +deference struggled with a bad headache, "Yes, sor, I can see +hever'thing as usual, sor." + +"I thought I saw a light to the south. Just take a look in that quarter, +will you?" + +The dopy cook scuffled to his feet and stumbled over to the rail, hung +there, peering intently southward. At that moment, there burst out of +the sea a brilliant illumination that fairly blinded Madden. Shocked +into spasmodic action, the American jumped from barrel to ratlines. + +He hardly knew how he got down, as much of a fall as a climb. Strange +fearsome thoughts chased through his head. The men were right about +something attacking the _Minnie B_. Now the same thing had attacked +the _Vulcan_. The _Vulcan_ would be sunk. He must rush the men +out of the galley into the small boat. He must race back to the dock. +The dock apparently was safe. What the startling apparition was, he had +no time to speculate. When he touched the deck he sprinted for the +cabin. + +As he passed Gaskin the light vanished as mysteriously as it had +appeared, and left the tug in inky darkness. + +Madden heard the cook give a deferential cough and then say, "Yes, sor, +Hi saw it, Mr. Madden, saw it quite plainly, sor." + +A moment before Leonard reached the cabin door, someone flung the +shutter open violently and shouted his name in the utmost alarm. + +"Mister Madden! Mister Madden! Come quick, sir!" + +The American lunged through the dark aperture straight into the fellow's +arms. In the darkness he could not make out who it was. + +"Don't be afraid! Did you see it? Where are the rest of the men?" + +"In the galley, sir, with him!" stammered the sailor, + +"Are they in a funk?" gasped Madden, feeling that he himself was in one. + +"Oh, they are that, sir." + +"Why don't they come on out? We must get 'em out!" + +"They're with him, sir, 'fraid to touch 'im!" + +"With who?" + +"Mr. Caradoc, sir." + +"Afraid to touch him--why, what's the matter?" + +"'E's dead, sir." + +A feeling as if ice water had been dashed over his body shivered through +Leonard. The black cabin seemed to swing under his feet. His arms +dropped down and he stood perfectly still staring into the blackness +from whence came the sailor's voice. + +"You--you don't mean he's _dead_?" he asked in a shocking whisper. + +"That I do, sir, dead as a lump o' seaweed." + +Madden turned and walked with a queer light feeling toward the galley. +He was in no hurry now. If that strange light sank them, drowned them, +it made little difference. An idea came into his mind. + +"Did--did you fellows kill him--murder, him?" he asked in a hard +undertone. + +The tenseness of his voice seemed to scare the sailor, "No, sir, no, +sir, no, sir!" repeated the cockney over and over. + +"For I'll shoot the man down like a dog! I'll hang him! I'll--I'll----" + +"We--we didn't touch 'im!" cried the sailor in hoarse alarm. "'E done +it 'isself, sir. Went clean crazy, kilt hisself--'orrible!" As the +sailor gasped out "horrible" they entered the cook's galley where a dim +light burned and a group of silent, sobering men stood in a knot over +some object. + +Madden shoved through to where two men stooped over a long body, dimly +seen on the decking. The two men were Hogan and Deschaillon. + +With his strange feeling still strong upon him, Madden knelt between the +two. Caradoc lay limp and motionless, with a dark stain slowly spreading +on the boards under his head. + +"Tell me about this," commanded Leonard, thrusting a hand under the +prostrate man's shirt and feeling for his heart. The request set loose a +babble. + +"'E did it 'isself, sor!" "Split hopen 'is own 'ead, right enough!" +"W'ack, 'e took 'isself, w'ack!" "Aye, that 'e did, sor!" "It sounds +queer, an' it looked queerer, but 'e did, sor!" + +Madden made a sharp angry gesture for silence, "One at a time. Mulcher, +what happened?" + +"'E comes in, Mr. Madden," began the cockney more composedly, "an' says, +'Forward, men, lively now,' an' Galton 'e turns an' says, 'Ye may take +that, ye--'" + +Again came the irrepressible chorus, "Aye, that 'e did, sor!" + +"If a man speaks before I address him, I'll brain him!" shouted Madden. +"Hogan, what happened?" + +"If you plaze, Misther Madden, Misther Smith came in and asked iv'rybody +to stip forward and quit atin' up th' grub. Galton was mad innyway, an' +had a glass o' whiskey in his hand. 'Quit atin'!' yills Galton. 'A +officer niver wants nobody to ate but himself.' Then, 'Take thot!' he +yills, and flings his whiskey straight into Smith's face. + +"Av cour-rse, we ixpected to see him smash Galton to smithereens, him +being dhrunk--Galton, I mane--but he stood still as a post, sir, and +tur-rned white as a sheet. I filt sorry for th' gintilmin--him putting +up sich a good foight this avening--so Oi thought if he didn't want to +fight, I'd help him pass it off aisy. I had a glass o' liquor in me own +hand. I offers it to him. Says I, 'Pay no attention to th' spalpeen at +all, Misther Smith,' says I; 'he's a fool to be throwin' away good +liquor loike that; and have this dhrink on me, and if he does it again +Oi'll pitch him out o' the port.' With that I handed him me glass. + +"Well, sir, he took it, an' I belave there was niver another face on +earth loike his, whin he hild up that glass to th' lamp. His hand shook +so some of the sthuff shpilled. His face was loike a corpse. He shtarted +to dhrink. Put it to his lips. Thin of a suddint, loike it had shtung +him, he yills out, 'God 'a' mercy!' flings down th' glass, which smashes +all over th' floor, lowers his head an' plunges loike a football tackle, +head fir-rst, roight into th' sharp edge o' that locker there where ye +see th' blood an' hairs stickin'. Down he wint, loike he's hit wid an +axe, wid his skull broke in siv'ral pieces no doubt. Mad as a hatter, +sir, fr-rom th' hate. Though it's sich an onrasonable tale, sir, I won't +raysint it if ye call me a liar to me teeth." + +Madden had found the Englishman's heart still beating. He pressed his +fingers in the long bloody wound on his head and the skull appeared +sound enough under the long gash. + +"Get him out on deck," he ordered sharply, in an effort to keep his +voice from choking in his throat. + +"Out on deck! He's not dead! Get him in fresh air!" + +Hogan, Deschaillon, and two navvies caught him by the legs and arms. +Madden lifted the bleeding head from which the blood still ran in a +steady trickle. The crowd gave back and the five men with their grewsome +burden passed through the galley's door into the dark passage. + +Just then a sudden vibration went through the whole ship, as if the +_Vulcan_ had been struck by some enormous force. The men carrying +Smith staggered. There burst out a blare of confusion, amazed cries, +shouts of terror. There was a stampede in the narrow passage. Flying men +bumped into the bearers of the sick man. They were shrieking, "We're +struck! We're foundering! Th' sea sorpint's got us!" + +"Launch the small boat and stand by till we get there!" bellowed Madden. + +All the carriers dropped Smith's body and bolted in the panic. Madden +braced himself against the rush of the crew and held up the senseless +man lest he be trampled on in the blackness. The uproar in the passage +was terrific as the men tried to squeeze through all together. Every +moment Madden expected a rush of sea water down the passageway. Just +then, he felt someone else lift at Caradoc. + +"Go on," said Farnol Greer's voice. "Let's get him out, sir." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +TOWED! + + +When the American pushed outside with his burden, a breeze swept the +deck of the _Vulcan_ with an unexpected coolness. The vibrations +had almost ceased, but there was a slight hissing of water from +somewhere, and a feeling of movement. The men were in a hubbub on the +port side where the small boat lay tied. + +Filled with the idea that the ship was about to founder, Madden stared +about. To his vast astonishment, he discovered the tug was not sinking, +but moving. The _Vulcan_ was under way. The noise he heard was the +swift displacement of water. For some unaccountable reason, the vessel +glided southward at a speed of eight or ten knots. + +In the uproar forward, Madden heard the cries: "Th' dinghy's swamped!" +"We carn't reach 'er!" "Cut 'er loose and jump!" "We couldn't right 'er +in th' water!" "Cut 'er and jump! Quick! 'Eaven knows w'ot's got us!" + +"Steady! Steady, men!" bawled Madden, laying Caradoc down on the deck +and hurrying across to his panicky crew. "What's moving us?" + +"We don't know, sir! Th' sea sorpint! Grabbed our cable and made off!" + +"Can you see it?" + +"Just make it out, sir, ahead!" + +"Cut th' cable!" cried another voice; "that'll get us loose!" + +"Yes, get an axe--Quick!" + +A dim figure came running aft past Madden for the axe. The American +shouted at him: "Come back! Don't touch that towing line! Let things +alone!" + +"Yes, but this'll drag us to the bottom!" chattered one of the men +forward. + +"We'll get in the dinghy when the ship goes down!" + +"We might row to the dock from here!" + +The men stood in a string along the rail, below them in the hissing +water the dinghy tossing topsy turvy. + +"What's towing us? I don't see it?" cried Madden. + +Several arms pointed forward. Leonard peered through the gloom. The +crescent moon and the stars filtered down a tinsel light. The faint +shine merely made the darkness more evident Madden seemed to catch a +glimmer of a bulk at the end of the anchor line some hundred yards +distant. He listened but heard only the gurgle of the _Vulcan's_ +wake and the creak of her plates. + +When the sheer panic of surprise had worn away somewhat, the weirdness +of the uncanny voyage came upon the crew with tenfold force. They stood +gripping the rail, staring ahead with the feeling of condemned prisoners +on their way to the gallows. + +"We're 'eaded for the 'ole in th' sea!" muttered Mulcher. + +"We'll go down tug an' hall," mumbled Galton unsteadily. "Fish bait, +that's w'ot we are!" + +"I've heard sea serpents can sting a man and numb him so he won't live +or die," shivered Hogan, "like a spider stings a fly." + +They spoke in half whispers under the influence of the unknown terror. + +"If anything happens, I shall keel myself," declared Deschaillon, with +nervous intensity, "but I shall see it first." + +"That's w'ot went with the other two crews--killed theirselves," +chattered Mulcher. + +Another silence fell. The cool breeze came as a sort of mockery of their +unknown peril. For the first time since the storm every man was +thoroughly comfortable physically. + +"Boys," planned Hogan, "whin th' thing comes aboard, we'll put up th' +best foight we can!" + +"It don't come aboard--it bites a 'ole in th' 'ull." + +"Aye, like th' _Minnie B_." + +Just then a figure approached the men unsteadily, and Madden saw that +Caradoc had recovered consciousness and was able to walk. As the tall, +gaunt figure approached, the crew eyed him as if he were some new +danger, then he asked. + +"What is this? Are we moving?" + +"Yes we're off," replied Madden. + +"Under our own power?" he inquired, turning around and staring at the +smokeless funnel. + +"No, we're being towed." + +"Towed! Towed!" exclaimed Smith in a weak voice. "What's towing us?" + +"We don't know, sor," replied a cockney. + +There was a silence in which Caradoc stood tall and cadaverous as a +ghost. "Am I dreaming this, Madden?" he muttered finally. "Did you say +we were being _towed_?" + +"That's right." + +"What's towing us--not--not the dry dock--don't say the dry dock's +towing us!" + +"We don't know, sor," repeated the cockney. + +"Where are we going?" + +"To be killed, sor." + +Caradoc moved slowly over to the rail and sat against it near Madden. + +"A cool breeze," he murmured gratefully. + +The American was lost amid the wildest speculations as to the mysterious +agent that had the _Vulcan_ in tow. He was trying to think +logically, but found it hard in that atmosphere of terror. The utter +weirdness of the whole affair defied analysis. The towing of the +_Vulcan_ by an unknown power was the very climax of the fantastic. +No hypothesis he could form even remotely approached an explanation. + +It could not be some sea monster surging steadily at the tow line of +the _Vulcan_. That theory was untenable. A monster might attack; +it would never tow. + +But any other, attempt to account for the strange predicament fell +equally as flat. What human agency would operate so mysteriously in this +hot, stagnant sea? Why should any group of men entrap the helpless crew +of the _Vulcan_ with such a display of mystery and power? It was +useless. It was ridiculous. It was shooting a mosquito with a field gun. + +All his thoughts ended in utter absurdity. He felt that he had run up +against some vast power. The schooner _Minnie B_, the tug +_Vulcan_, were but trifling units in the enigma of this deserted, +weed-clogged sea. It must be some power whose operations were +ocean-wide. + +Why such a spot should be chosen?--Why a power that sank one ship out of +hand and towed another mile after mile?--Why it operated only at +night?--What lay at the heart of this brooding fabric of terror--he +could not form the slightest conception. Outlawry, piracy, smugglery, +were all goals too small for such operations. + +His thoughts seemed to be physical things trying to clamber up the +smooth polished side of an enormous steel plate. They made not the +slightest progress. The more he thought, the more unaccountable all +phases of the question became. + +In absolute perplexity, he turned to the Englishman at his side. He +could just make out the blur of Caradoc's face. + +"Have you a theory about this, Smith?" he asked in a low voice. + +The Englishman nodded in silence. + +"What is it?" + +"I--I got my head hurt awhile ago. I believe I'm delirious--dreaming." + +Leonard thought this over without any feeling of amusement. "That +doesn't explain why I see it too," he objected gravely. "Nothing wrong +with my head--that I know of." He tried the time honored experiment of +pinching himself. + +"I shall assume that I am awake," he decided after he had felt his +pinch. "I may not be, but I'm going to act as if I were." + +Madden had an impression that Caradoc was smiling in the darkness. Just +then Gaskin began laughing shrilly in a queer metallic voice. + +"Quit that!" snapped half a dozen thick voices at once, as if his +laughter had violently shocked their tense nerves. + +Gaskin pointed a stumpy arm off the starboard bow, "Look! Look!" he +gasped. "It's that rotten whiskey! Whiskey done it! Whiskey made me see +that! Look w'ot whiskey done!" + +Leonard had no idea that anything could be added to the nightmarish +quality of the adventure, but there off the starboard arose a great +bulk, blotting out the stars. It was not a ship; it was not a barge; +there was not a light on it, but it seemed somehow dimly illuminated. It +was as shapeless as death. + +"The Flyin' Dutchman!" shuddered Galton. + +"It burns a blue light!" corrected Hogan with chattering teeth. + +"Th' ship o' the dead!" shivered Mulcher. + +A sudden explanation flashed into Madden's head. "You fools are afraid +of our own dry dock," he whispered briefly. "We've traveled in a circle +and reached the dock again." + +"Oh, no, sor, it ain't that! Tain't th' dry-dock, sor!" aspirated +several fear-struck voices. + +The crew held their breaths as if the apparition might vanish as +suddenly as it appeared. + +By this time the moon lay flat on the sea, throwing a faint shining +streak across the dark Sargasso. This vague light was enough to show +Madden, when he took a close look, that it was not the dock. + +The thing he saw was an enormous mass without the severe angular shape +of the great dock. Its outline rose crude and shapeless, as well as he +could trace it among the canopy of stars, and gave not the slightest +intimation as to what use it could be. + +As they stared, the speed of the _Vulcan_ slackened sensibly. The +faint rippling of water under the prow ceased. The breeze fell away into +a dead blanket of heat. It was as if a sweatbox had been cooped over the +crew. + +"The thing's cut loose from us," said a weary voice. + +Hogan laughed shortly: "Everybody out--fifteen minutes for +refrishmints." + +"Yonder goes that thing!" cried Galton. "Hi can see it!" + +Indeed, by peering carefully, Madden could follow the slender outline of +the mysterious craft that had towed the _Vulcan_ to this uncanny +spot. It had now left the tug and was gliding away to the great +misshapen fabric that sprawled on the sea. + +Every eye strained to see the outcome of this strange maneuver, when +suddenly from the gliding vessel there shot a dazzling light that spread +over the bulky mass. Under the beating illumination every detail of the +huge vessel stood out garishly. She was immense, with a broad flat prow +like a railway ferryboat. She stood high in the water and seemed to have +three promenade decks around her. + +There was no mast, no rigging, no outside gearing. One squat funnel +amidship told that she used steam for some purpose, and out of this +funnel black masses of smoke rose slowly in the motionless air. She +resembled no craft Madden had ever seen. + +Notwithstanding her enormous size, everything about the vessel impressed +Madden that she was built for secrecy. She was squat, considering her +length and breadth. It was as if her designer were trying to make a +craft invisible at sea. As near as Madden could determine in the strange +light, she was painted a pale sky-blue. During the day, no doubt, she +melted into the sky like a chameleon. + +As the smaller craft approached its huge mate, its circle of light +contracted until it finally concentrated into a dazzling white spot +centered on the prow of the monster. This spot diminished to an intense +point, like an electric arc between carbons. A sharp reflection of this +point streaked the water between the tug and the mysterious vessels. + +Then, under the unbelieving eyes of the crew, the little vessel ran +completely into the larger one and was gone. The light vanished +instantly. Utter blackness fell over the dazzled eyes of the watchers. + +There were gasps, explosive curses of bewilderment, amazement. The +little boat had disappeared into the larger. Impossible! Gaskin began +his shrill laughter again. Then he gurgled in the darkness as if +somebody's fingers had clamped his windpipe. + +Madden's mind attacked more violently than ever the incomprehensible +motives behind this inscrutable mystery. What was the key to this +incredible affair? In the midst of his mental struggle, he felt a hand +on his arm, Caradoc said in his ear, + +"What do you say we get in the small boat and pay them a visit?" + +"It's a big risk. I daresay we'll get our heads blown off." + +"I had thought of that," agreed Caradoc. + +"Come on," said the American, and the two moved across the deck to see +if they could still use the dinghy, which had been trailing along all +this time. + +Nearly an hour later, the two boys in the dinghy approached the puzzling +craft with muffled oars. As Madden and Caradoc drew near, the vast size +of the strange ship grew more striking. The faint impression of light +which they had first received grew stronger and Madden saw that the +decks were illuminated by long bands of diffused light, although he +could not guess its origin. + +On the lowest deck, the American made out the small figure of a man +marching back and forth with a gun. + +At this sight, both boys stopped rowing, lifted the oars from tholes and +began paddling noiselessly, canoe-fashion. + +"That must be the accommodation ladder," whispered Madden, "where the +guard is." + +"Who are they afraid will board them?" queried Caradoc. "Mermaids?" + +"It is a strange precaution to take in the Sargasso," agreed the +American. "It is going to make our entrance difficult." + +They ceased paddling now and drifted silently toward the monster. + +"I wonder if they aren't smugglers," hazarded Caradoc, + +"Must be up-to-date, to use submarines--a submarine would defy +detection, wouldn't it?" + +"And rich--nobody but millionaire smugglers could get together all this +paraphernalia." + +"I'll venture insurance is at the bottom of this fraud, Caradoc," +hazarded Madden. "These swindlers insure a cargo, bring it to this +place, reship it, sink the vessel, or repaint and rebuild it, then +collect the insurance money--do you remember the log of the _Minnie +B_?" + +"No, I didn't read it." + +"It stated her cargo had been reshipped--reshipped from the Sargasso. +The entry may have been for the benefit of Davy Jones. Anyway, they are +methodical scoundrels." + +The lads fell silent as the hugeness of this nefarious business +gradually dawned on them. For insurance swindlers and smugglers to work +on such a large scale, very probably the organization branched over the +whole civilized world. This vast shapeless vessel was a spider at the +center of a great network of criminality. + +"Say, the Camorras are mere infants in crime compared to these men," +shuddered Leonard. "I suppose they murder the crews--drown 'em." + +"They would have to get 'em out of the way somehow." + +"Then Malone and all the tug's crew are..." + +There was an expressive silence. + +After a while Caradoc whispered, "Well, shall we try to get aboard?" + +"Wouldn't do any good." + +"It won't do any good to stay here." + +"No, we can't hide on the tug always, and we can't run her engines. +_You_ don't know anything about marine engines, do you, Caradoc?" + +"Very little. I couldn't run one." + +For several minutes, the two adventurers sat in silence, watching the +small erect figure of the guard pace and repace his short path. +Presently Madden said: + +"I've thought of one chance, Caradoc, to escape being starved or +murdered." + +"Yes, what's that?" + +"It--it's almost too wild to propose, but it's all I can think of. As +far as I know it's absolutely our last chance." + +"Go on, go on," urged the Englishman impatiently. "I don't know of any +way out whatever." + +"If we could slip aboard there and--and--well, kidnap somebody who knows +how to run our engines, bring him back to the tug, fire up and make a +race to South America--but there's no sense to a scheme like that. +Captain Kidd himself wouldn't be up to it." + +A long silence followed this ultimatum, then Caradoc said, "Oh, it's +possible, I suppose. The mathematical formula of possibility would work +out about ten million chances to one that we lose." + +"Yes, I know it's risky." + +"And how do you hope to get in past that guard?" + +"We'll have to climb up the ladder right under him, hang there until he +is on his up-deck walk, then swing inside and when he turns around we +could be simply strolling up the deck toward him. There must be a lot of +fellows on such a big ship. Maybe he doesn't know them all." + +"Why do you want to stroll _toward_ him?" + +"Because if he saw us walking off in the other direction, he would know +we had not passed him, and so we must have come up the ladder." + +Caradoc shook his head in the darkness. "I'm going to try to jump on +that guard when he turns his back, and down him." + +"He'd give an alarm sure. We mustn't disturb him till we get ready to +leave, then let him yell." + +"What you are planning, Madden, is simply impossible. I like to be as +conservative as possible." + +"We can turn around and row back to the _Vulcan_--and starve." + +"Go ahead to the accommodation ladder. However, it's impossible." + +As the two moved silently nearer a murmur of machinery in the vast +fabric came to them. As their tiny boat swung in beside the high hull, +they could hear this noise quite plainly, and they trusted to this +rumble to screen their operations somewhat. They ceased paddling and +allowed the dinghy to drift against the iron side of the vessel. They +could no longer see the deck and the guard, owing to the swell in the +high metal wall. But presently they came to the rope ladder which they +anticipated hung below the guard's station. + +Madden caught this and tied the dinghy to it with the crawly feeling of +a man who expects to have a gun fired at him the next moment. + +Caradoc came up and the two adventurers stood in the boat's prow, both +holding to the ladder. + +"I'll bet that scoundrel shoots down," whispered Leonard, "before we get +halfway up." + +"Don't talk so loud--are you ready to try it?" + +"What are you going to do--jump on him?" breathed Leonard. + +"No, your plan. If you see he is going to shoot you before you get +inside, jump backwards and dive." + +"And remember to go far enough out not to hit the dinghy." + +"Good." + +Madden stared up into the mysterious vessel, caught the ladder and swung +himself silently onto the rungs. Caradoc mounted close behind him. They +had mounted only two or three steps, when a sudden terrific report +thundered above their heads. + +It was so unexpected, so violent, that the two boys almost tumbled into +the sea. The next instant they found themselves wrapped in an atmosphere +of hot, stifling steam. They clung to the rungs in a veritable +steam-bath that roared and plunged around them. When Madden collected +his senses, he realized that it was merely a safety discharge from the +boilers. The main steam pressure did not strike them, but they swung in +the hot wet fringe of the exhaust. Had they been ten feet farther aft, +they would surely have been boiled to death. As it was they were +immersed in uncomfortably hot vapor. + +They clung, rather unnerved by the uproar, enduring the heat for four or +five minutes, when suddenly an idea occurred to Madden. He leaned down +to Caradoc and shouted in his ear. + +"How about going up now? Couldn't see us in this steam." + +For reply, Caradoc shoved his friend upward, and so they scrambled aloft +like two monkeys. + +Fortunately for them, the night was windless and the white steam drifted +straight up and as it rose, it spread out in an impenetrable fog. +Cloaked in this vapor, the two adventurers scrambled up some thirty-five +feet to the first deck. The steam was thick inside the rail. Covered by +the noisy shriek of the exhaust, they jumped inside the promenade +without being heard or seen, and a moment later, they dropped arm in +arm, like two casual strollers, and moved up deck. + +Two minutes later, when the roaring exhaust had ceased and the vapor had +cleared away, the guard with the gun could never have guessed that the +two men he saw slowly promenading the deck had drifted over the rail, +out of the night, with the clouds of the noisy exhaust. + +Neither of the lads so much as glanced at the sentinel as they strolled +past him. Caradoc was saying in the low tones men use when conversing in +the darkness: + +"Do you suppose that fellow knows anything about engines?" + +And Madden replied just as confidentially, as he sized the gun man up +out of the tail of his eye, "No, I'm sure he doesn't. An engineer never +has to stand guard." + +"How are we ever going to spot an engineer?" + +For the first time since starting, a little thrill of the joy of +adventure crept into Madden's heart. He felt like a ferret venturing +into a rat's den. + +"Why you can tell an engineer easily," he murmured. "You've seen 'em, +oily fellows, with black smudges." + +"That describes a fireman, too." + +"No, a fireman's not so oily and is more cindery--then we'll know one by +his cap." + +"Certainly," breathed Smith. "I hadn't thought of that." + +Notwithstanding his danger, Madden could not help smiling as he moved +along after the fashion of a careless stroller, when he was really +keenly alert for a man with an engineer's cap. + +The two youths were walking up a long deck, dimly lighted by small +incandescent bulbs placed on the inner surface of the outside stanchions +about thirty feet apart. Each bulb was carefully blinded from the ocean +by a sheath, which confined its glowworm radiance exclusively to the +promenade. On the inboard side were a long series of port holes, +likewise hooded from observation. Some were aglow, others dark. + +The deck, rails, cabin walls, ports, hoods, joists of the top-deck were +newly washed and scrupulously clean. Fifty yards up-deck, where +perspective and the sheer of the ship gave the promenade the appearance +of a long, up-curved tunnel, the boys caught sight of a gang of men +scrubbing down deck. A little beyond the scrubbing gang, some garments +fluttered on a line drying in the night air. + +As they drew nearer, Madden perceived they were muscular men, with faces +bronzed by tropic sunshine. Some of their necks and cheeks were peeling, +as if from sunburn. On the whole they had a healthy, hearty appearance +that fitted in badly with Madden's theory of murderers and thieves. +Instead of a piratical aspect, the promenade bore a strong resemblance +to a deck scene on some crack transatlantic liner, except for the +blinded lights and ports and the armed guard. + +The wanderers passed the scrub gang without trouble and came to the +drying laundry. The number of these shirts and trousers and under +clothing suggested the hulk must contain a large number of men. If these +men _were_ smugglers and insurance swindlers, they had systematized +their life after rigid military discipline. + +They moved through the laundry with fading hopes of kidnapping an +engineer from such a formidable institution, when they were startled by +a human laugh. It sounded in their ears and was as unexpected as a +shriek in church. For an instant they thought they were apprehended. +Then they understood the sound came from one of the lighted ports. + +They moved softly among the shirts and trousers until they reached the +suspected port. Inside they heard a very trivial conversation in +English. + +"I'm after that jack of yours, Captain Cleghorne," declared a thick +voice with a laugh. + +"I played low, remember that," + +A silence, then a burst of laughter. + +"He ran that jick over your king!" + +Leonard stood beside the port blind making a tantalizing effort to +recall something. Where had he heard the name "Cleghorne?" He repeated +it mentally several times. + +"Cleghorne, Cleghorne----" of a sudden it came to him. He had never +heard it, but had seen it framed in the license that hung in the chart +room of the schooner, _Minnie B_. + +With a heart thumping against his ribs at this strange and amazing +coincidence, the American ducked his head carefully under the port hood +and looked in. + +For a moment his eyes were blinded by electric lights. Then he observed +a group of men sitting around a table playing cards. They were in +obviously comfortable spirits, nothing criminal or warlike. One was a +long cadaverous figure that suggested to Madden, Cleghorne, the Yankee +commander of the _Minnie B_. + +When his eyes strayed across the table to Cleghorne's partner, Leonard's +knees almost crumpled in surprise. He was looking at the old commander +of the floating dock, Mate Malone. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +CARADOC TAKES COMMAND + + +Notwithstanding that Madden's head was under the hood, Caradoc sensed +the fact that his friend had experienced some profound shock. + +"What's the matter? What's wrong?," he whispered from the outside. + +"The mate--the mate of the _Vulcan_ is in there!" gasped the +American. + +"Impossible!" Smith dived under the hood for himself. + +Both heads just managed to squeeze in and the two men stared at Malone +as if he were raised from the grave. The mate, however, was not +funereal. He seemed in the pink of condition, rather fatter than he had +been on the dock, and he wore the pleased expression of a man well +content with life. + +As men will do when under a fixed stare, he presently glanced about and +his eyes fell on the porthole. He looked at the dim port for several +seconds intently, as if he could not quite make out their faces. Madden +frowned, jerked his head up and down in a signal for Malone to approach. + +The mate's little eyes went round at the request. He made a surprised +gesture to his partner, scrambled to his feet and drew near. The whole +cabin followed his motions. + +"W'ot is it?" he whispered, still peering into the half-faces seen in +the round hole. + +"Madden and Smith." + +"_W'ot_!" + +"Yes." + +"Great sharks! W'ot you lads doin' 'ere?" + +"Came off the tug--what is this?" + +"W'ot is w'ot?" + +"This ship we're on?" + +It seemed as if Malone's little eyes would pop out of his head. + +"W'ot--didn't they ketch you? You don't mean to say you--you jest +straggled aboard?" + +"Sure we did. Catch us? Who is there to catch us?" + +Malone stared as if at two ghosts. "Say! Say!" he said hoarsely. "You +don't mean to say you ain't caught? You don't mean you run th' tug up +'ere an' boarded us! You don't mean----" He turned and whispered +hoarsely inside: "It's th' lads off th' dock, though 'ow they got 'ere, +an' w'ot they're--douse th' light, some o' you fellows." + +A stifled consternation seized the card players, who crowded up to the +port. A moment later all the lights were snapped out one after another. + +"Tell us who there was to catch us," begged Leonard in a whisper. + +"Who? W'y a German warship, that's who! One caught us--an' Cap +Cleghorne. Caught th' Cap away hup on th' Newfoundland Banks. Caught us +first day----" + +"Why should a German warship capture _us_!" demanded Leonard in a +voice that threatened to rise in excitement. + +"Quiet! Quiet! 'Eavens, lad! Don't you know? Ain't you 'eard? W'y it's +war! War! War's broke out all over th' world! Everyw'ere! Ever'body!" + +"War!" gasped Madden. + +"War! What countries?" demanded Smith in an excited whisper. + +"Hall countries! Hingland, France, Rooshia, Japan, that's one side, an' +Germany and Austria on th' other." + +"America in it?" demanded Madden. + +"Right enough. Canada is sendin' troops and----" + +"America! America! The United States of America!" + +"Oh, no, she's the only nootral in th' whole world among th' big powers! +But she'll be in soon enough!" + +"What's this we're on?" inquired Caradoc. "It isn't a warship?" + +"Kind o' warship. It's a mother ship for submarines--sort of floatin' +dry dock for the little sneakers. She takes 'em aboard, over'auls 'em, +gives 'em new stores and torpedoes." + +"England at war!" repeated Caradoc in a maze. "I must get out of here!" + +"That's th' word, war!" whispered Malone thickly. "They say Hingland's +got a tight blockade aroun' th' German ports, so th' German cruisers +bring their prizes here in th' Sargasso, load all the prize stores they +capture out o' Hinglish bottoms into submarines an' run it into Germany +_under_ th' blockade. See? That's w'y this mother ship is 'ere. She +fixes 'em up at this end for their run back." + +Malone told all this in a hoarse breath. + +"What do they do with their prisoners--keep them here?" + +"No, ship 'em to German East Africa an' intern 'em. The _Prince +Eitel_ is due 'ere tomorrow to ship us." + +So that was the explanation of all this mystery--War! + +Madden fell silent with the sensation of a man who had lost his footing +on earth. All his life he had been accustomed to peace. He thought of +wars as small affairs that broke out now and then in South America or +when the American Indians got hold of whiskey. But for Germany, France, +England to fight, to hurl millions of men at each other! It was +inconceivable! + +The boy's brain felt numb as if crushed beneath an enormous horror. The +world was at war! + +Unless a person actually witness a murder, he cannot imagine the shock +and dreadfulness of seeing one man shot down, writhe, gasp, grow pale +and cease struggling. To picture ten men murdered simply stuns the mind. +An effort to realize hundreds, thousands, millions of men mangled, +wounded, bayoneted, crushed, blown to atoms by shells and mine--all this +becomes vague, formless, a dim, dreadful picture that is as unreal as a +dream, or history. + +"What caused it?" asked Madden in a strained tone. + +"I don't know," whispered the mate huskily. "They say it all started +because an anarchist killed an Austrian prince, but I don't believe +it--that sounds too onreasonable for me." + +"What has an Austrian prince to do with the rest of the nations?" + +"I told you I don't believe it!" repeated the mate. + +Madden felt impotent at the conclusion of the narrative. As long as he +had conceived himself to be attacking a force of pirates and thieves, he +was ready to board this great vessel, hunt for an engineer, or attempt +any desperate scheme. But now when he learned that men were being +murdered, goods stolen, ships scuttled, in accordance with a kind of +wild law, called rules of war, he no longer knew what to do. The world +was mad. Its people were murdering each other. + +He finally said aloud to Caradoc: "I suppose we may as well hunt up the +commanding officer, surrender ourselves and sail for Africa with the +others." + +"No," interrupted Smith, "don't do that." Then he called softly inside, +"Malone!" + +"Well, w'ot is it?" inquired the mate gruffly, for he persevered in his +dislike of Smith. + +"Look sharp, Malone! I am an officer in the English navy--it is my right +and duty to assume command of all English seamen in case of war!" + +A blank silence followed this remarkable assumption of authority. The +tone in which it was whispered prevented any doubts in the minds of his +hearers. + +"Do you understand?" inquired Caradoc in a sharp undertone. + +"Yes, sir," replied the mate doggedly. + +"How many men have you in there?" + +"Eleven Hinglishmen, sir." + +"I assume responsibility for those men. From now on accept orders from +me!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Pass the word around. I am going to hand in some German uniforms +through this port. Let every man put on a uniform!" + +"Very well, sir!" came the dismayed reply. + +Caradoc withdrew his head from the hood. In the faint gleam from the +outside incandescents, he fell to untying the strings by which the suits +were leashed to the lines. He handed eleven suits to Madden, who passed +them under the hood and Malone received them inside. Then Smith +deliberately stripped off his own clothes and drew on a pair of German +trousers. + +"Get on a pair, Madden," he advised. "Civilian trousers will be +conspicuous in a bright light. You are going to see this thing through, +aren't you?" + +Madden nodded and followed his companion's example. Five minutes later +the two, transformed into German sailors, walked out of the hanging +laundry. + +"Don't seem, to observe anything," whispered Caradoc. "Appear to be +going somewhere, on an errand. Walk just as if you belonged aboard." + +A moment later the Briton turned down a stairway that led to a shadowy +deck, which was hung with long rows of hammocks with men sleeping in +them. The air down here was remarkably cool, although Madden did not +have time to give much thought to this. Caradoc pursued his way +unhesitatingly among the sleeping sailors, and presently came to another +hatchway, out of which poured the rumble of machinery and a stream of +light. + +Down this flight of steps, Smith moved with certainty, and a moment +later Madden saw they were entering a great machine shop. A full +complement of men worked at every lathe, table, drill or saw. The clang +of hammers, the guttering of drills, the whine of steel planes smote his +ears in a cheerful din of labor. The laborers worked at their tasks with +that peculiar flexibility of forearms, wrists, fingers that mark skilled +machinists. The scent of lubricating oil the faint tang of metal dust +filled the air. Strange to say, the air down here was even cooler than +that in the sleeping deck above. + +All sorts of queer tasks were progressing. Here, men were working on +gyroscopes that fitted into the shells of torpedoes; there, they +fabricated little hot-air engines which propelled those instruments of +destruction. They were repairing gauges, steam connections, electrical +fittings, what not. + +Madden was tempted to pause and stare about this wondershop, when it +occurred to him that if he and Caradoc were discovered they would be +executed as spies. He had not thought of this before, and the mere +suggestion somehow made him feel stiff and wooden. He was not +frightened, but he felt clumsy, as a schoolboy does when he makes his +first public speech. His arms and legs felt wooden; his head did not +seem to sit in a natural manner on his neck. He felt that if anyone +glanced at him, he would immediately betray himself. His walk, his looks +showed it. He could not imagine why some workman did not leap out, seize +his arm and yell "Spy!" + +After a long stage-frightened walk, Caradoc turned down another flight +of stairs. Here Madden discovered the secret of the cool air. On this +deck was a big refrigerating plant, with frost-covered pipes leading in +all directions. The sight of this plant gave Madden some faint insight +into the thorough preparation made by the German government to carry on +their struggle by sea. Long before war was declared, Germany must have +planned a naval base in the Sargasso, and have foreseen the use of her +submarines in evading the blockade. She had chosen these untraveled seas +as a depot, then established a refrigerated machine shop in order that +the full-blooded German might work comfortably in the tropics. The plan +seemed to have been worked out with infinite detail. + +From the refrigeration deck, they descended to still another deck into +the very bowels of the ship. This descent brought them to a long gallery +that was formed by a bulkhead running down the center of the ship. As +they entered this passage, three workmen came out of a small steel door +that opened into this central wall. One of the workmen carefully +rebolted the door, yawned sleepily and followed his comrades toward the +companionway. As he passed he grunted something to Caradoc. Madden's +heart beat faster lest they should be discovered at this last hour. He +had no idea what mission moved the Englishman, but he sensed that here +was his destination. Smith made some reply in German, moved briskly +ahead until he came to the small steel door. He laid his hand familiarly +upon the bolts, shot them back, swung open the door. One of the men +whirled about and stared back at this assured intruder. Smith stood +aside and with a curt military gesture motioned Madden to enter. The +American drew an uncertain breath, glanced at the three Germans out of +the tail of his eye and stepped into the dark square. Caradoc followed +him. The laborers went on updeck apparently satisfied. + +An electric wire was let in through the door. Caradoc reached for it, +followed it with his hand and presently turned a switch. Next moment a +bright flood of light bathed the tubular chamber in which they stood. + +Madden glanced about. He stood in a room whose roof formed a half circle +over his head. The place seemed as full of machinery as a watch case. +Fore and aft were circular partitions of steel, like drumheads. These +were penetrated with sliding shutters, which stood open. Through the +after shutter, Madden saw a large Deisel oil engine, flanked by a +compact heavy dynamo. Looking forward, he could see steel cylinders +trimmed in shining brass, and a maze of levers, gauges, dials, valves. + +The central compartment in which the two stood was dominated by a little +spiral stairway leading up into a steel dome. On a shelf set in the +bulkhead was a chart, a telephone receiver, speaking tubes, dials with +red and black hands, an array of electrometers, pressure gauges. + +Glancing up the stairway into the little dome, Madden saw a pilot wheel, +more levers and speaking tubes and telephone receivers, and a square of +ground glass, that was lined off with delicate cross-lines. + +"Where are we?" asked Madden, amazed. "What do they do here? I never saw +so much machinery before in so small a space." + +Caradoc was stooping over a heavy metal box down at the floor level at +the side of the desk. It was one of a series of such boxes. "We're +inside of that submarine you saw enter a few hours ago," explained the +Englishman shortly. + +Leonard stared around with new eyes. "So this is a submarine! Do you +know anything about them? What's that spirit level for?" He pointed at a +horizontal gauge. + +"Measures air pressure--it's not a level." + +"What's in these steel tanks overhead?" + +"Compressed air." + +"What's that you are getting into?" Here Caradoc lifted the lid, and +Madden got a view. "Say, that's a torpedo, isn't it?" he asked quickly +as he saw a long needle-pointed steel cigar with propeller and rudder on +the aft end. + +The Englishman made no reply. He leaned over and selected a small steel +crowbar from a tool locker, drew it out with a quick nervous movement. + +"Say!" cried Madden catching the strange expression on the face of his +friend, "are you going to try to launch this and escape on it--escape on +a torpedo?" + +A mirthless smile flickered over the Englishman's gray face. "Nothing so +fanciful." + +A sixteen foot torpedo lay in a steel frame on a runway, just ready to +slide forward into the big expulsion tube that was the salient feature +of the forward compartment. Caradoc walked quickly to the nose of the +terrific missile. He looked at his friend and said in a strange voice: +"Madden, I'm going to wipe this German ship-trap off the map!" + +A sort of spasm clutched the American's diaphragm. "You don't mean----" +he managed to gasp. + +"Yes, this is for----" He swung up his crowbar. + +Madden on the other side the gasoline-scented chamber had a sensation as +if someone had jabbed keen needles into his throat, breast, stomach. + +"Caradoc! Don't! Don't!" he screamed and leaped toward the desperate +man. + +It was all done at once. + +"For England!" completed Caradoc Smith, and fetched down a furious +doubled-handed blow on the primer of the big steel chamber packed with +guncotton. + +The crowbar landed with a crash! + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE GET-AWAY + + +Both lads leaned against the machinery, limp, dripping cold +perspiration. Caradoc was the first to speak. + +"Didn't have its war head in!" + +Leonard mumbled something through the slime in his mouth. + +"I ought to find the connection and explode it," repeated Caradoc +doggedly. + +Madden moved weakly over beside him. "No you won't. You aren't going to +murder us all... not going to do it!" + +Caradoc remained motionless, his long face gray under the electric +lights. "I fail--at everything," he mumbled. + +Leonard sat down on the edge of the torpedo case and looked at the long, +slender destroyer. He had a watery feeling, as if just arising from a +long illness. + +"Let's get out of here," he breathed. + +"Wait... we must seem normal. You--you look blue--spotted." + +"I feel blue and spotted. I was scared--never was so scared in all my +life." + +"Sit here till you get over your j-jolt." + +"What are you going to do?" asked the American apprehensively as Smith +arose. + +"I must disable this machinery and give the tug a chance to escape." + +"Still got that in your head?" + +"I must do _something_--I ought to explode that torpedo!" + +"You're not going to do that, Caradoc. You're not! I have no--no +appetite to be a martyr." + +The Englishman made no reply, but began moving around among the +machinery with the crowbar. Leonard stirred himself to follow. + +"You--you're not up to anything--not going to blow us up?" + +"No, I'm not going to blow you up. That's my word." + +Oddly enough, Madden accepted it very simply, and went back and sat on +the torpedo case. He fell to stroking the smooth steel flank of the +thing as if it were some animal. The thing had, as it were, refused to +blow him to bits at Smith's request. + +The Englishman walked about busily, thrusting his bar in among dial +connections, snapping brass pipes, wrecking the telephone connections. +He laid about him viciously, knocking, crashing, smashing. Then he +hurried back into the rear compartment, knocked to pieces the bearings +and valves of the Deisel engine, tangled up the wiring of the storage +batteries and the dynamo, beat off her brushes, disrupted the clutch on +the crank shaft. + +It was shocking to Madden to see Caradoc smash and destroy such delicate +and costly machinery. He went about his task with a kind of bottled +ferocity, and in a short time the submarine looked as if it had let +loose a cyclone. Presently the youth paused in his vandalism and glanced +about with satisfaction. + +"All right," he said in a more normal tone, "if you are ready to go, get +a wrench and a cold-chisel, smudge your face with a little oil and iron +black, and we'll get away from here." + +Madden saw the importance of completing his disguise in this manner. He +splotched his face, found the tools indicated by Smith in the locker, +then walked out through the manhole into the passageway once more. + +There was no one in sight as they came out. They passed up through the +cool refrigerating room and through the machine shop with its contented +workmen. Madden wondered how those men would feel if they knew that a +few minutes past, they were hanging on the fringe of eternity. + +The two smudged tool-bearers, who walked rather shakily to the upper +deck, did not even provoke a questioning glance from the workmen. A few +minutes later the boys emerged once more from the sleeping deck onto the +boat deck. It was still deserted save for the solitary guard who paced +back and forth in stiff military fashion. + +Caradoc moved down to the hanging laundry and paused under the port +hood. He tapped it gently. From the interior came Malone's thick +whisper. Smith passed in the tools and whispered. + +"Force the door open gently. Walk out as if you were sailors. Close the +door and pretend to lock it. Meet me out here at the head of the ship's +ladder, where the guard is stationed." + +"Very well, sir," came a whisper. + +Then Madden and Smith strolled on down toward the man with the gun. As +they walked, Smith whispered: + +"When you hear me clear my throat, get within striking distance. When I +cough, silence him. I'll help you." + +Madden nodded slightly, and the two drew near the pacing guard. Caradoc +lifted hand to forehead as they passed and a little later seated +themselves on the rail near the ladder. Madden looked down curiously and +thought he could make out the shape of the dinghy below, but was not +certain. + +The American's nerves still tingled from the torpedo incident, and now +he glanced out of the tail of his eye at the guard, whom he would +probably have to fight. + +The fellow was a broad-chested, short-necked German, armed with rifle +and bayonet. The bayonet had a bluish gleam under the incandescent. + +It was a queer thought to Madden to know that within the next fifteen +minutes, he would perhaps be under rifle fire, rowing or swimming away +through the black night, or he might be dead. Dead, and the world would +end for him, and the war of the world or the peace of the world would be +all the same for him. + +Madden shrugged his shoulders, drew a long breath and stared out in the +direction of the _Vulcan_. He could see nothing of the tug. The +moon had sunk and the stars burned with a more vivid fire. The musing +boy noted the position of the Hydra, and fancied it might be somewhere +near midnight. Just then his guess was confirmed by four double strokes +of the bell. There would be a change of guards. Perhaps the next man +would not be so unsuspecting. + +Just then Madden observed another deck gang coming up the promenade. He +wondered how often they scrubbed deck on this vessel. He hoped this crew +would soon pass, as it would make escape impossible if their men made a +break while the sweepers were in hearing. Their slow approach made him +nervous. Suppose one of them suspected something wrong? + +Just then Caradoc yawned and cleared his throat. Madden looked around at +his friend with a slight start. The Englishman did not see the +approaching sailors. Madden frowned conspicuously, but Smith's long face +was placid, and he cleared his throat again. + +The guard was now about to pass Madden. The American shifted his legs +slightly for a position to jump, nevertheless frowning warningly at +Caradoc. The scrubbers were fairly close now. Caradoc arose negligently +and coughed. + +In the teeth of the scrub gang, Madden leaped headlong at the guard and +his fingers gripped the man's throat. At the same instant, Caradoc +ducked under his legs. As the foremost of the scrub gang wrenched the +rifle from the guard's hands, Madden saw with joy that they were Malone +and his men. The three fell with a dull thumping on the deck. The guard +tore at Madden's fingers which crushed in his throat. From underneath, +Caradoc panted in sharp whispers: + +"Overboard! Down the ladder! Quick!" + +As he snapped out his orders, the Englishman was working his hold up +past the floundering guard's waist. Madden's grip was about to break +under the strain the Teuton put on it, but his fingers clung desperately +to the fellow's throat, for one shout would bring a hornet's nest around +the fugitives. Just then Malone whispered hoarsely: + +"They're all overboard, sir." + +Leonard caught the soft stir of oars in the water below. + +"Shall Hi stick 'im, sir?" whispered Malone, grabbing the guard's +bayoneted rifle. "Yonder, comes the new guard!" + +Caradoc, who had been willing to blow up a whole shipful of men, panted +out a sharp "No!" Just then the Englishman's long fingers slipped up on +the tendons that ran down the guard's neck from his ears. He pinched +them sharply. The struggling man suddenly gasped and lay still. Caradoc +leaped to his feet. Madden scrambled up. Both were dripping with sweat. +A man with a rifle was running down the deck toward them. The fellow +raised his rifle. + +"Overboard!" gasped Caradoc and took a sudden leap over the rail into +the night. Madden followed, trusting not to hit the dinghy and kill +himself. Malone was already scrambling down the rope ladder as fast as +he could go. + +While a dive of one or two hundred feet is not uncommon, still Madden's +thirty-five foot drop sent chill tickly sensations through his chest and +throat. It seemed as if he would never stop falling through the +darkness, but at last he struck the water and went down, down, down. + +When he finally kicked himself back to the surface and thrust his head +out, he heard a violent whispering among the excited boatmen. A moment +later an oar struck him under the armpit. Madden seized it, whispered +his own name and scuttled in over the gunwale. The men were shoving +desperately at the ship's side in an effort to get the dinghy under way. + +From the deck overhead came guttural shouts in German and fainter +answers. Fortunately the guard did not take upon himself the +responsibility of shooting down into the boat, and in a minute or two +the refugees had assembled the oars and were rowing furiously from the +mother ship. + +In the dim zone of light that belted the promenade, Madden could see a +number of hurrying figures. Then came a sharp command, and a rifle +stabbed the darkness with a knife of fire and a keen report. + +Immediately came another, then another, then several. Bullets chucked +viciously into the water about the dinghy. + +Under the straining arms of four oarsmen the little boat moved briskly +out of its perilous position. Jammed between two sailors, the boy sat +staring back at the men gathering on the promenade. The flashing of many +rifles kept a constant streak of light along a considerable section of +the deck. Bullets seemed to whine within an inch of his ears. The dinghy +appeared to be retreating at a snail's pace, and the frightened boy +gripped furiously at the gunwale in an absurd effort to speed it up. He +twisted about, trying to keep his shoulders in a line with the flashing +rifles so as to offer the thinnest target. A man in the stern of the +dinghy groaned, and slumped down into the bottom. + +Just then a searchlight leaped into play from the top deck of the ship. +Its long ray shot out in a trembling cone through the darkness. It +switched here and there with appalling swiftness. The crew in the little +boat stared at it, holding their breaths. When that leaping ray fell on +the dinghy it would be followed by a rain of steel. + +The firing on the promenade deck ceased, Waiting for the searchlight to +direct their aim. Just then the beam fell on the _Vulcan_ with +dazzling brilliance. The tug stood out sharply against the night, and +she proved to be much closer than Leonard had fancied. The little +rowboat had been traveling faster than he thought. + +Then the brilliant circle left the tug and, began crawling carefully +over the water toward the dinghy. + +The crew stared at the approaching light as stricken birds in a snake's +cage. Just then Caradoc said in a low tone. "Let every man slide into +the water and swim for the _Vulcan_." + +The men in the stern slipped into the sea first with muffled splashes. +The men amidship climbed over the side and went in headfirst. The +oarsmen shipped their oars and took the water. Madden made a long dive +over the side and shot well away from the little boat. When he came up, +he looked around. The fringe of light was just playing on the bow when +Caradoc leaped. According to English traditions, he was the last man to +leave his vessel, even though it were only a dinghy. + +An instant later, a queer metallic ripping sound broke out in the mother +ship. Madden looked back quickly. From the top deck there was a jet of +fire, as if someone were turning a hose of flame in the direction of the +small boat. Leonard looked back at the dinghy. It appeared as if the ray +of light were beating the little vessel into splinters. It seemed to +crumble into itself, to wither, to go to dust, and the water beneath it +beat up in a froth through its shattered hull. + +A head bobbed up near Madden, and Caradoc's voice observed collectedly. + +"They're chewing it up with a machine gun. You'd better dive +again--travel most of the way to the tug under water. They'll be picking +us up, one at a time, in a moment, with the same stream of steel." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +NERVE VERSUS GUNPOWDER + + +Fifteen minutes later a dozen men were kicking exhaustedly in the water +on the port side of the _Vulcan_, shouting in urgent voices for +ropes. A few were already clambering up the bobstays. There was no reply +from the utterly terrorized men on the tug, then came the whiz of +missiles thrown through the air. + +"Hogan! Mulcher! Galton! Ropes! Give us your ladder!" bawled Madden at +the top of his authority. + +"Is--is that you, Misther Madden?" chattered Hogan. + +"Yes, yes, ropes, before we drown!" + +"Was that you shootin' at us over there?" + +"They were shooting at _us_! They hit two or three of us! Hurry!" + +"And who's all that wid ye? Faith, the wather's alive wid min!" + +"We're the crew of th' _Vukan_!" "Throw down ropes!" "Shut up and +throw down ropes, ye bloody Irishman!" howled an angry chorus. + +"Th' crew o' th' _Vulcan_, and thim all dead, these weeks ago! Sure +if it's a lot o' ghosts----" + +But others of the crew summoned enough courage to fling down aid to +their old comrades, and soon the men came crawling up the dark sides of +the tug and dropped limply inboard. + +The utmost excitement played over the crew of the dock when they +identified the former crew of the _Vulcan_. The air was full of +excited questions and tired answers, but presently the word got out. It +was "War." The news passed from mouth to mouth and grew in +portentousness. War! Nations were at war! These men had escaped from a +German warship! + +It was unbelievable. It was stunning. Presently Caradoc shouted out in +the darkness for Malone, Mate Malone. The cockney answered. + +"Put your firemen at the furnace! Set your engineers to work on the +engines. We must have steam up and be away in an hour!" + +The two crews fell into silence, and Malone ordered his men below. Some +of the dock's crew hurried off with the others to cut down coal in the +bunkers. Another gang fell to work; pulling in the sea anchor. But over +all their various activities hovered the vast consternation of war. + +Caradoc had climbed to the bridge of the _Vulcan_ and stood staring +silently at the bulk of the mother ship that was barely discernible +through the night. The searchlight had been switched off. Neither ship +showed a signal. From below came the muffled sounds of men working at +the furnace, and in five or ten minutes a film of smoke trickled out of +the _Vulcan's_ great funnel. + +Madden climbed up on the bridge beside Caradoc. + +"How long before the submarine will be out?" he asked in a low tone. + +"Small boats will come first," replied Smith. "That's why they shunted +off the searchlight--to surprise us." + +"Will they try to board us?" + +"Certainly. We'll have to defend ourselves with anything we can pick up, +sticks, knives, hand spikes--" + +At that moment Malone appeared from the other end of the bridge. + +"We'll have steam up in an hour," he announced, glancing up at the +funnel. + +"An hour?" thought Madden. "That's time enough for us all to be killed." + +Caradoc said to the mate: "Go forward and tell the men to arm +themselves, then take position along the rail to repel boarders. Tell +them to look sharp for grappling hooks and throw them down." + +"And what will they arm with, sir?" + +"Use anything you can find, hand spikes, knives, sticks. They might +throw lumps of coal. A cricket player ought to give a good account with +a lump of coal." + +"Very well, sir," grunted Malone and he hurried down on deck. + +A few minutes later the men were scurrying around to their positions. +One or two men had gone down for a sack of coal, a queer ammunition that +might possibly effect something. On the other hand, Leonard knew the +attacking force would come armed with mausers, rapid fire guns, +grappling hooks, swords. A onesided fight was brewing. + +The American looked anxiously at the funnel; a ribbon of black smoke +filtered out into the air. + +"Madden," said Caradoc, "they will make the hardest fight around the +anchor ports and amidships. Which position do you prefer to defend?" + +"I believe I'll take the forecastle." + +"Good, I wish you luck." + +"Same to you." + +As Madden moved down the ladder to the deck, he heard, above the murmur +of the busy men, the strong measured beat of a ship's cutter approaching +the tug with deliberate swiftness. + +There were some good men stationed to defend the forecastle, Hogan, +Mulcher, Greer and two or three of the _Vulcan's_ former crew whom +Madden did not know. As the American approached in the gloom, two men +came up, laden with sacks, and poured out a pile of coal on deck. Every +lump was about the size of a baseball. + +Hogan recognized Madden in the darkness. He was exuberant now that he +had learned his enemies were human beings and not ghouls. + +"Do ye think those Dutchmen will be able to put up a daycent foight, +Misther Madden?" he inquired hopefully. + +"They have plenty of arms, Hogan." + +"Sure, that'll hilp 'em some. But Oi'm going to knock th' head off the +spalpeen that firrust sticks his mug over that rail." + +"Your chance is coming," said Madden soberly, as he listened to the +increasing noise of the oars. + +"Now, men," directed the American, "lie flat down behind the rail and +use your sticks and hand pikes to prize off grapnels. They will shoot +your hands." + +"Very well, sor," breathed several voices. + +The noise of the oars grew louder until it sounded immediately beneath +the defenders. Hogan stood up suddenly, leaned over the rail with a lump +of coal in each hand, and threw down viciously. There was a whack as one +lump hit the boat, and a grunt as the other struck some man. In return +came a terrific crash of rifles, and bullets spattered the iron plates +of the _Vulcan_. Fortunately Hogan had flopped down on deck in +time. + +At that instant, the searchlight of the mother ship swept the +_Vulcan's_ deck with startling brilliance. The first volley had +perhaps been the signal, and the fight was on. + +There came a clanging of grapnels on the rail over the crouching +defenders. Madden flung down the one nearest him, but others came flying +through the air to take its place. The prostrate men worked busily +dislodging the flukes. The fusillade from below prevented their getting +on their knees, and they were forced to lie on their backs as they +worked at the hooks. It seemed some sort of queer game: the attackers +flinging up scaling irons, the defenders flipping them down. Madden had +dislodged two or three, when Mulcher cried out for help. + +The enemy had succeeded in catching a fluke on the rail, and putting so +much weight on it that the cockney could not prize it off. Immediately +Hogan and another defender crawled to Mulcher's aid like big lizards. +They thrust in sticks and spikes and prized vigorously, while the +bullets were drumming on the plates outside. + +It stuck and Leonard started to their aid, when a hook in his own +territory demanded his attention. Just then a head came up over the rail +just above Hogan and Mulcher. The German had turned his automatic on the +defenders when Hogan's shillalah caught him on the temple. He reeled +backwards, his pistol spitting into the air. He knocked down the whole +line of men below him amid crashings, shoutings and splashings in the +water below. The moment the weight was off, Mulcher loosed the grapnel +and flung it down into the confusion. + +The hail of bullets was immediately renewed, and more hooks came flying +over. The iron rails rang like a boiler shop, and the steel missiles +glanced off whining like enormous mosquitoes. Madden whirled his head +for a glance aft. + +The same sort of drama was taking place amidship, boarders were climbing +over the rail and arms, sticks, and iron spikes snapped out of the inky +shadows and smote them. The invaders fired blindly into the darkness +that rimmed the deck. As to whether they were killing or maiming +Caradoc's crew, Madden could not tell. + +One thing, however, he did observe, that aroused an anxious hope in the +boy's heart. A heavy column of smoke ascended from the tug's funnel, and +a tongue of steam played in its edge. + +A frenzy of impatience seized Madden. If the _Vulcan_ could only +get under way and escape the fight! Why didn't they start at once! In +the vivid light, he saw the steering wheel turning, apparently of its +own accord, and he knew that someone was manipulating the hand grips +from the bottom side. + +From those slight signs of preparation, Madden's attention was suddenly +whipped back to his business, by the sight of two figures climbing on +over the prow of the _Vulcan_. These men had no doubt caught a hook +in the anchor port and had climbed up without opposition. + +The invaders stood clearly limned by the searchlight, trying to pick out +a target for their fire, when Madden reached for the coal pile. The +American had once been pitcher for his college team, and the lump of +coal crashed under the first man's jaw and he dropped backwards as if +hit by a piece of shrapnel. The second gunman banged at the shadow where +Madden was hid. The bullets sang about the American's ears, when +Deschaillon's ostrich-like kick flashed through the light and caught the +sailor in the pit of the stomach. The automatic dropped from his hand, +and he crimped up like a stuck grubworm. + +But while the defenders were occupied with this little flank attack, +half a dozen hooks were firmly lodged on the rail, and at least eight +men were mounting swiftly. At their head came an officer waving a sword. +The firing from below suddenly ceased, lest they hit their own men. In +the silence that followed, Madden heard the hiss of rising steam, and +from somewhere the tinkle of a bell. + +Suddenly out of the shadows, the whole force of the defenders leaped at +the Germans and attacked them as they strode over the rail. There was a +clattering of revolvers, a thwacking of sticks and iron pins, and the +smashing of thrown coal. + +Then the combatants grappled hand to hand on the rail of the tug, +swinging eerily in and out like wrestlers, a strange sight in the +beating searchlight. + +Madden closed with the officer, and by good fortune caught his right +wrist, so the fellow could not shorten his sword and stab him. The +American kept trying to twist the German's arm and make him drop his +blade, but the fellow had thrust his left hand under Madden's arm pit +and reached up and caught him about the forehead. The result was a back +half nelson, and put Madden's neck under a terrific strain. + +In return he choked his adversary, but Madden's mastoid muscles slowly +gave way before the German's punishing hold. His head bent back, while +he clung desperately to the sword hand and crushed in the fellow's +gullet. There was a roaring in Madden's ears that was not from the +fighting men. His neck and back slowly curved backward under the strain. +Had it not been for the menace of the sword, he could have wriggled out +with a wrestler's shift, but if he loosed the right hand... Madden +wondered if he could fall backwards and still maintain his hold on the +sword. If he could ever get down without being stunned by his fall, his +strangle hold would give him an immediate advantage. He swung backwards, +but the fellow did not go with him, but began a furious struggle to +loose his weapon. Madden clung grimly. His whole body dripped with +sweat, as he held away the sword and tried to choke the fat neck of his +antagonist. He shoved the fellow's throat with all his power, trying to +break the nelson, but the pressure jammed his own head back till a hot +pain streaked through the base of his skull. + +At that moment a tremor ran through the tug, and there came a +chough-choughing in her stack. Immediately followed a great shouting and +a frantic pelting of grapnels from the sea below. Madden knew that the +_Vulcan_ had at last got under steam, and would probably escape. +This came to him dimly as his left hand, which had been struggling to +fend off the sword, gradually lost its grip on the German's sweaty +slippery wrist. + +Along up and down the rail, he knew that the men battled with varying +results. Came dimly to his roaring ears shouts, groans and blows. In +another minute the sword would split his ribs. + +A breeze sprang up. The _Vulcan_ was gathering headway. + +He was bracing his last efforts against the force that was bending him +double, when a long-legged figure rushed from amidship, seized the +swordsman around the waist, and with a mighty heave, flung the fellow +upward and outward into the sea, falling end over end--a grotesque +gyrating figure in the searchlight, still waving his sword. + +"Down! Down! Everybody!" yelled Caradoc, as he waded up the rail, +overthrowing the last of the boarders. + +Madden and the defenders fell prone on the deck, and it was not too +soon. The moment the boarding party was definitely repulsed, there broke +out a crashing volley from the long boat, and their bullets played a +ringing tattoo over the ironwork. Then the tug drew steadily away from +their assailants. + +The searchlight played over the steamer for several minutes in order to +afford a target for the small boats, but the crew lay close, only +trusting an eye over the sheer strake now and then for a glimpse of the +enemy. Up on the bridge, Leonard could see the steering wheel still +turning of its own accord this way and that as the _Vulcan_ +gathered speed. + +Presently the searchlight was switched off, leaving the deck in utter +darkness. The cutters had given up the chase. Leonard sat up on deck and +wriggled his sore neck this way and that. He could see nothing now save +the stream of sparks that leaped out of the funnel and flowed aft into +the black sea. + +"Men!" cried Caradoc's voice, "is anyone hurt?" + +"A few of us 'ave 'oles punched in us, sor!" came a reply. + +"All the wounded will report to Captain Black in the main cabin!" called +Smith. + +There was a shuffling of feet on deck, as the men passed aft through the +darkness. + +At that moment, out of the mother ship there flared another bright light +that wavered about the horizon for a moment and finally settled on the +_Vulcan_. The wounded men dodged below the rail again, but no +bullets came. + +This light was not stationary. It crept down through the inky sea toward +the fugitives and grew larger and brighter in their eyes. + +"W'ot is that?" cried several apprehensive voices. + +Caradoc stood erect by the rail, watching this new development. + +"Malone," he called to the man hidden on the bridge, "what speed can +this boat make?" + +"Hi've got as 'igh as eighteen knots out of 'er, sir." + +"Signal 'full speed ahead' and call down to the firemen for all the +steam we can carry." + +"Very well, sir." + +Caradoc looked at the light for a minute or two longer and then remarked +to Madden. + +"They couldn't have repaired that submarine for several hours longer. +They must have had two." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +CHASED BY A SUBMARINE + + +Wheezing, coughing, shaking in every plate, vomiting into the sky a +trail of smoke that extended clear to the eastern horizon, the +_Vulcan_ shouldered her way at top speed across the mazy lanes of +the Sargasso. The tug had come a queer crooked path across that sea, and +the lay of her smoke trail down the pearly glow of dawn still marked her +tortuous course. + +Not a breath of air stirred, but the speed of the vessel sent a breeze +whipping over the poop of the steamer where a group of battered men +stared fixedly over the long frothing path of the screw. Several of the +group wore bandages, two, unable to stand, sat in steamer chairs, all +had the pale faces of all-night watchers, but every eye in the crowd +scanned with feverish intensity the spangled ocean over which they fled. + +The wind snatched at the clothes and bandages of the intent men. Masses +of seaweed swept like gray blurs down the sheer of the tug's wake. Just +beneath them the propeller rushed with watery thunder. + +"Yonder she rises!" cried one of the watchers, pointing at two wireless +masts that rose like the fins of a racing shark above the green surface +of the Sargasso. + +"Yonder she rises!" repeated a voice amidship, and more faintly still +came the repetition from the bridge, "Yonder she rises--hard a-port!" + +A sudden shift of the rudder shook the _Vulcan_ from peak to +keelson. Next moment the tug was speeding squarely across a seaweed +field, and another crook was added to the smoke mark in the sky. The +_Vulcan's_ blunt prow drove through the seaweed at a great rate, +while the clammy mass swung back together not sixty yards behind the +churning screw. + +A strange race had developed between the tug and submarine. When both +crafts were on the surface in open water, the submarine had a knot or +two advantage of the _Vulcan_ and could have picked her up in four +or five hours. But early in the night Caradoc had discovered that the +powerful screw of the steamer, designed, as it was, to propel vast +loads, could make the higher speed across the algae beds. + +On the other hand, if the submarine dived to escape the drag of the +weed, she again became the faster craft. But, in this instance, when the +submarine dived, the _Vulcan_ would immediately take to the open +lanes and do more than preserve her distance. These constant shifts and +turns explained the ricocheting course that was marked in smoke across +the whitening dawn. + +The submarine stood well out of water and skimmed along in the pink +gleam like a long, slender missile. Its flat deck, wireless masts and +conning tower stood etched in black against the morning light. She was +consuming a fairish stretch of open water at a high speed. + +"She's game for a long chase," observed Hogan, gently shifting a wounded +arm in its sling. + +Leonard Madden replied without removing his eyes from the rushing boat, +"She has to be. All of Germany's naval plans depend on her destroying +us." + +"It does--and, faith, may Oi ask why?" + +"If we get to Antigua and report this to the British admiralty, how long +would this Sargasso reshipping arrangement last?" + +"Right you are there, Misther Madden," agreed Hogan at once. "We'd woipe +'em out, wouldn't we? We'll make it, too. If we stood off th' little +didapper all night, you know we can all day." + +Madden considered the fleet little vessel. "No, I rather think she will +capture us." + +"And how's that?" + +"The Sargasso doesn't extend indefinitely. In fact we are nearing the +southern limit. Have you taken a look forward?" + +"No, I haven't," said Hogan, taking vague alarm at Madden's tone. +"What's wrong?" + +"I don't see many more big seaweed fields ahead. If she gets us in open +water----" + +"Why bad luck to it! Bad luck to it, Oi say!" cried Hogan as the wind +whistled about him; "running us out o' the bushes loike a swamp rabbit." + +Just then the submarine veered off her straight course somewhat to +extend her open water run for two or three miles up the edge of the +field. A length view showed her to be a delicate looking craft. Her +sharp prow cut the water with hardly a ripple, in sharp contrast to the +_Vulcan_, which shouldered up a waterfall as she lunged forward. + +Suddenly, and rather unexpectedly, the submarine porpoised. There was a +swash of foam, and she was gone. + +The men on the poop stepped around to the side of the tug and stared +anxiously southward. Bits of flotsam mottled the blue expanse, but it +really appeared as if the saving drift weed were thinning to nothing. +Hogan glanced back over the way he had come. + +"Sure it'll be a fair field and no favor, sweet Peggy O'Neal!" he hummed +nonchalantly under his breath. + +At that moment a violent shaking went over the _Vulcan_, and the +short boat swung her prow about with tug-like promptness. It was as if +the stout little craft had swung around on her heel. + +"Faith and would ye shake a man's arrum off!" shouted Hogan at nobody in +particular. "And are ye going back to meet the friendly little wasp?" + +That was exactly what Caradoc was doing. He had swung the _Vulcan_ +about in less than a hundred yard circle and was plowing straight back +the way they had come. + +The crowd on the poop held their breath at the daring maneuver. Tug and +submarine were now rushing at each other full tilt, only one ran under +water, the other on the surface. Suppose the submarine should thrust up +a periscope for an instant--a cough of the torpedo tube and the +_Vulcan_ would be blown to scrap iron. + +The men on the poop ran forward, staring with frightened eyes over the +gray-green soggy field through which the _Vulcan_ ripped her way. + +It seemed fantastic to think that somewhere under that lifeless weed +human beings spun swiftly along, freighted with the most terrific engine +of destruction. What strange warfare! Who could have fancied that when +savages began to use clubs to maul each other it would end in this +diabolical refinement! Weapons, weapons, weapons--the history of man's +undying savagery working under new forms of civilization! The war +submarine--what a monstrous offspring of genius! + +The sun rose like a white-hot ball in the brazen sky and the men held to +the rails, mouths open, and stared ahead into the safe open water, +expecting every moment for the _Vulcan_ to spatter skyward in a +volcano of fire and steel. + +The boat itself rattled along with that insensibility of mechanism that +sometimes astounds an apprehensive man. Twenty minutes later, she turned +into the open lane, and was rushing westward again at full steam. + +An immense relief spread over the crew. Galton, who stood on the bridge +at the wheel beside Caradoc, blew out a long breath and wiped the sweat +from his face, Farnol Greer began a windy whistling of "Winona, Sweet +Indian Maid." Madden felt as if a weight had been lifted off his brain. +Hogan was humming a tune. But all eyes turned anxiously seaward, to see +where the submarine would "blow." + +Ten minutes later, a distant ripple in the water caught their watchful +eyes and the wireless masts popped up, on the opposite side of the great +weed field, four or five miles distant. + +A spontaneous cheering broke out on the _Vulcan's_ decks. + +"Double crossed! Double crossed!" bellowed Hogan. + +"Back track! We put one over! Hurrah for Cap'n Smith!" they shouted +above the pounding of the engines. + +Everyone but Caradoc wore the fixed exultant grin of the man who outwits +his rival. The submarine had been thoroughly outgeneraled. North and +west of the _Vulcan_ lay the whole Sargasso for an endless chase. +The diving boat had lost the great advantage of having the steamer +cornered. + +As the crew whistled and sang the _Vulcan_ kicked a frothy course +down the long westward lane. To every one's surprise, the submarine did +not dive immediately, but straightened herself on the other side of the +seaweed field on a course parallel with her quarry. + +Madden climbed up on the bridge and found a pair of binoculars in the +chart room. He took these outside and trained them on the little vessel. +Apparently the submarine intended to remain at the surface for some +time, for she had opened her hatches and an officer had come out on the +slender deck, and stood looking at the _Vulcan_ through a +telescope. + +At the distance, Madden could see the fellow plainly, and even the inky +shadow he threw on the deck. The officer perused the tug for several +minutes, then allowed his glass to wander around the horizon. + +"They've come up for air," observed Caradoc, who had approached his +friend from behind. "I believe we'd best stop that. Good air is a luxury +with those fellows." He turned to Galton, who was steering. "Swing her +into the northwest, my man." + +The tug answered to her helm with a quiver, and in twenty minutes more +was nosing her way again through the ooze of weed. The German officer +calmly completed his survey, folded his telescope, then disappeared down +the hatch. A few minutes later the submarine dived and the ocean lay +empty in the burning sunshine. + +From below came the clanging of Gaskin's gong announcing dinner. It was +odd how the little details of life went calmly on even when life itself +was threatened with extinction. As Madden went below to his meal, he met +Malone who came from below, looking as black as an Ethiopian. The mate +had been directing the firing in this extreme necessity. + +The two fell in together as they walked to the wash room. + +"I daresay those fellows wish they had sunk the _Vulcan_ when they +had her," observed the American. + +"They needed 'er theirselves," explained the mate in a matter-of-fact +way. "Those German cruisers 'ave captured a whole flotilla of prizes +lately, and they needed th' tug to 'andle 'em for 'em." + +"And they didn't need the _Minnie B_?" + +"Oh, no, not at all." + +"Why didn't they sink her at once?" + +"Her cap'n told me she carried more copper than one submarine could +reship, so they 'ad to wait for another, as they didn't want to throw no +copper away." + +Madden nodded. "It was the second submarine I saw on the night she +foundered." He began smiling when he thought what a bewildering mystery +the vessel had been, and how very simple was the explanation. + +By this time Caradoc had joined the two men, hoping to snatch a sandwich +and a cup of coffee before he was needed again. + +"Have we plenty of coal, mate?" + +"Bunkers are 'arf full, sir." + +"What's she turning over now?" + +"Six, seventy-five to th' minute, sir." There was a pause, then Malone +asked, "Is there any 'opes of _them_ running out o' fuel?" + +"Not likely; they make the trip to Hamburg, you know." + +They were just turning into the smelly galley, when a startled voice +sang out forward: + +"Sail ahoy!" + +This stopped the trio instantly. + +"Where away?" called Caradoc. + +"Dead ahead, sor!" + +All three turned and went running back updeck. When they regained the +bridge, Madden stared in the direction indicated. At first the western +horizon looked empty, then along its level line his eye caught two tiny +marks against the brilliant sky. As it was too small for his naked eyes, +he resorted to the binoculars once more. Caradoc was doing the same +thing. + +"W'ot is it, sir?" inquired Malone anxiously. + +When he had focused his glasses, Madden made out two fighting +tops--steel baskets circling steel masts, thrust up menacingly over +the slope of the world. + +"W'ot is it, sir?" repeated Malone uneasily. + +Just then Madden's eye caught the flag at the peak, as it fluttered +under the drive of the distant ship. It was the black cross on the white +ground, with the dark upper left quarter of the German navy. + +Caradoc took down his glass at the same time. + +"They've been using the wireless," he stated evenly, "to run us in a +_cul de sac_. I might have known German cruisers were close +around." He looked steadily at the distant fighting tops, then turned to +Galton. + +"Steer due north, quartermaster." + +After a moment, he said to Malone: + +"When you go below, send me up coffee and a biscuit." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE LONE CHANCE + + +Rushing up the slope of the world in a battle line that covered a wide +sector of the southwestern horizon, steamed four German battle cruisers. +They were four sea eagles dashing at a little water beetle of a tug--the +hammer of Thor swinging forward to crush an insect. The submarine had +signaled by wireless the whole German South Atlantic fleet to destroy +the tug. + +Only in the face of this demonstration did Madden realize that a great +German naval stratagem hinged upon the fate of the little English boat. +The slow, clumsy little _Vulcan_ would decide the fate of millions +of dollars worth of English shipping. The little vessel was freighted +with huge consequences. + +At first glimpse of the battle line, the _Vulcan_ had sheered +about, and now rushed northward, stringing her black smoke flat behind +her. Up from the south, the submarine followed on the surface, although +she could not make as good time through the weed as did the +_Vulcan_. However, the burden of destroying the English craft had +been transferred to the cruisers that came rushing forward at at least +twenty-five knots an hour. + +As Madden stood on the bridge in the skirling wind, the little +_Vulcan_, the seaweed drifts and the cruisers reminded him of +nothing so much as a rabbit flying across cotton rows in front of four +greyhounds; only here there were no friendly briar patches or fence +corners in which to double or hide. Never had the Sargasso appeared so +vast, so empty, so brilliant, so hot. + +"Any chance?" he shouted to Caradoc above the rumble of machinery and +the whistling of the wind. + +"There's always a chance! They might foul in these weeds!" he nodded +aft. + +"Improbable." + +"Lloyds would hardly insure us," admitted the commander dryly. + +At that moment, as if to lend point to the remark, came a sharp clap of +thunder off their port bow. Madden whirled quickly. A ball of white +smoke, the size of a balloon, drifted up in the air a quarter of a mile +distant. + +The American stared at the smoke quite wonderstruck, then looked around +at the distant ships that had not yet topped the horizon. + +"Did they shoot this far?" + +"A request to heave to." + +"Are you going to do it?" + +At the bursting of the shell, the men on deck came walking aft to the +superstructure, with the apprehensive gait of men getting under shelter +from blasting operations. + +Caradoc leaned over the rail of the bridge. "Greer!" he shouted, "go to +the flag locker, get out a union jack and show our colors on the peak!" + +The men pulled up at this, and half a dozen men, two or three of them +crippled, hurried to carry out the order. In a few minutes they came +running back on deck with the flag. They tangled the sheets after the +manner of landsmen, but finally the red pennant traveled skyward. There +was a brief hoarse cheering from the cockneys. + +The flag was scarcely at the peak, when above the throb and rumble of +the machinery, Madden's ear caught a queer droning noise, and a moment +later came a deafening crash about two hundred yards to the starboard. +The water beneath it was beaten to a foam, while another balloon of +smoke slowly expanded and thinned in the breathless air. A long time +after the bursting of the shell, Leonard heard the grumble of the cannon +that had fired it." + +"Now, lads," shouted Caradoc, "go below and bring up some rockets!" + +The men set off with a will, but Madden viewed the situation without any +thrill of patriotism to gild a death under the union jack. The cruisers +were slowly coming into full view. Through his glasses he could now see +their turrets and the black gun ports. + +"What's the idea, Smith? You can't fight with rockets?" + +"Some English vessel may see us," answered Caradoc shortly. + +Madden was still more astonished. "What good would that do?" he called +above the wind. "She'd be captured, too." + +"Certainly," agreed the Englishman brusquely, "but if she had a +wireless, she might report the situation to the Admiralty before they +sank us." + +Madden removed his binoculars and stared at his friend. "Are you staking +your life on as long a chance as _that_?" + +"My boy," said Smith, in an oddly matured tone, "when the safety of +one's country is at stake, one man's life doesn't amount to +_that_!" he snapped his fingers. "If there's a point to be gained, +you accept any chance automatically--or no chance at all." + +The American returned no answer, but there flashed into his mind the +legend of the Tyrian who beached his galley in order to save the secret +of Cornwall. Caradoc's narrative was oddly prophetic of the fate of the +_Vulcan_. And Madden wondered with a quirk of grim humor if there +were a foreigner aboard that Tyrian's galley, and what _he_ thought +about the sacrifice. + +There was another jagged report as a shell burst just aft the tug, then +a missile of some thousands of pounds shrieked through the air just +above the stumpy masts and filled the sky with fire and thunder a +hundred yards ahead. + +Out of the cabin came the rocket bearers, quite over their fright by +now, and acting with the nervous steadiness which acute danger brings. +One of the sailors from the regular crew of the tug moved along the +rail, mounting the fire signals one after the other for shooting. +Immediately behind him came Hogan, using his one good hand to fish +matches from his watch pocket and light the fuses. + +The first rocket lit with a sputter, for a moment its fiery blowing +filled the deck with smoke, then it darted skyward, with a tremendous +swis-s-sh! Up, in a long black column it went, into the very heart of +the hot brazen sky, then it exploded with a faint pop, and a black head +of smoke expanded at a prodigious height. In the midst of the +smoke-filled deck, Hogan was applying his match to another. So as the +tug plowed forward, tall slender pillars of smoke, crowned with swelling +palm-like heads, arose to dizzy heights out of her path. + +By this time huge shells were bursting about the _Vulcan_ with +crashing monotony. Sometimes the dodging little vessel ran through the +pungent gases of the shells that were sent to destroy her. Now and then +the giant missiles exploded under water and sent furious waterspouts +leaping over her decks. Something touched the top of her steel mainmast +and snapped it off as if it were a straw. A few minutes later the crew +had cleared the union jack from the wreckage and had it flaunting +defiantly from the forepeak. + +It was an odd defiance, a tugboat's challenge to a German battle line. +The nibbling of a mouse once set a lion free. Here was a mouse +endeavoring to net a whole herd of lions. + +The cruisers did not overhaul the little vessel as rapidly as Madden had +anticipated. The _Vulcan_ skurried through the seaweed fields, +dodging this way and that in order to take advantage of every lane of +open water, but the unwieldy battleships could not accept small +advantages, and were forced to plow straight ahead, through weed or wave +as it came. + +Thus the cruisers still fired at extreme range, and the tug escaped +destruction as a gnat might jiggle between raindrops and survive a +summer's shower. + +Amid steady crashes, Madden awaited stoically for the shot that would +erase the _Vulcan_ from the face of the sea. There came another +splintering shock; the upper half of the foremast made a curious jump, +and came down with its rigging and plunged overboard in the rushing +water. The obstruction instantly choked down the tug's speed. Every man +in the crew seized axe, saw, anything, and rushed forward in a fury of +impatience, hacking, chopping, sawing, working through the wreckage and +cutting the ropes with jackknives, in an effort to clear the tug of +debris. After an intolerable while, the last ratlines snapped like +pistol shots, the whizzing end of a rope struck a sailor and laid him +out as if clubbed, then the foremast fell away and the _Vulcan_ +rushed forward again. + +"Look ahead, Madden!" shouted Caradoc in the uproar. "We've got to run +among thicker fields than these!" + +By this time the tug's rockets were spent and the German cruisers were +rushing down a line of gigantic smoke-palms that were planted by the +little vessel. + +"You might as well surrender," called the American coolly. "You won't +find a merchantman if you go in thicker fields--you know that." + +"Surrender!" bawled Smith. "Do you think they shall have this tug to +haul their prizes? Let 'em sink us, and then pick us up in boats! Look +ahead!" + +The American turned his binoculars obediently and scanned the west and +north. His eyes traversed skein after skein of the brilliant colorful +patternings, but he was unable to find a very closely netted region. He +was about to announce his discovery to Caradoc when his lense focussed +on another grim menace almost dead ahead. + +He stared at it with a curious dropping of hopes that he had not +suspected were in his breast. + +What he saw was another fighting top. That pertinacious submarine had +apparently surrounded the elusive _Vulcan_ with German fighting +ships. + +Leonard removed his field glasses and stood for a full minute filled +with a keen frustration. The splitting din about him roared on +uninterruptedly, and yet somehow he had been hoping the _Vulcan_ +would escape. + +"What do you make of it?" bawled Smith, who had been watching the +submarine, which was once more drawing dangerously close. + +"We can't go in this direction, Smith!" shouted Leonard hopelessly. +"There are more ships in that direction." + +"Warships?" demanded Caradoc swinging his spyglass around. + +"Yes, fighting tops!" + +Both lads focused in the new direction. + +"Those Germans do everything thoroughly," shouted Leonard, "even to +sinking a tug!" + +But instead of despairing, Caradoc, after a single glance, rushed over +to the speaking tube to the boilers. He blew the whistle shrilly, then +folded it back and screamed down. + +"Malone! Malone! Malone!" + +"Very well, sir!" came back the muffled voice through the pipe. + +"Give her all steam possible! Blow her up! Speed her, man, speed her!" + +"Very well, sir!" returned the same voice. + +"Caradoc! Caradoc! Are you insane!" bawled Leonard. "Do you imagine you +can outrun two squadrons of German cruisers?" + +"German cruisers! That's England's line of battle, Madden! England! Old +England! God let me get to them and tell 'em what I know, then I don't +care what happens!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE BATTLE + + +"Th' signal book! Get the signal book!" bawled Greer amid the uproar. + +"W'ere is it?" + +"In the flag locker! Chuck the flags out, too! Scatter 'em out!" + +"W'ot you want to signal?" + +"Submarine--tell 'em to look out for submarines!" + +Hogan, who held the volume in the crook of his bandaged arm, licked his +thumb and jabbed through the leaves in distracted attention. "There +aren't no code letters for submarine!" he cried at last--"not in here!" + +"No," shouted Black, the _Vulcan's_ former captain, "that's an old +code--wasn't any submarines then!" + +"Spell it out!" commanded Caradoc from the bridge. "Sharp about it!" + +The men worked in a clutter of buntings, assembling the flags in nervous +haste. Black laid out the nine letters and the crew hurriedly hooked +them together. Ten minutes later, they strung the signal between the two +splintered masts with a queer drunken gala effect. + +The _Vulcan_ was no longer the German squadron's sole target. Down +on the Teuton battle line thundered five English cruisers, filling the +north with rolling smoke, their turrets spangled with cannon flashes, +prows shearing white walls of foam. + +The sky above the _Vulcan_ was filled with the drone of hurtling +shells. They sounded as thick as swarming bees. The cannon fire of the +approaching English ships mounted to a ragged roar. When the on-coming +line was less than five miles distant, Caradoc shouted an order to +Galton and the little tug swung around broadside on, displaying her +warning signal like a billboard. Through the battle smoke, Madden saw an +answering flag go up on the nearest ship. A cheer broke out from the +crew at this recognition of their work. + +"They'll pass it around among the fleet by wireless!" shouted Caradoc in +Madden's ear. + +"Do you know that ship, Smith?" called Madden excitedly. + +"The _Panther_--held a commission on her once." + +"Is it possible?" Madden peered at her through his glasses with renewed +scrutiny. + +They were so close now that the American could pick out the crew of +range finders working in the fighting tops; he could glimpse the huge +guns in the forward turrets as they flashed and roared amid shrouds of +smokeless powder haze. Madden realized he was seeing what every landsman +dreams of seeing: a naval battle. For some inscrutable reason, Caradoc +had headed the _Vulcan_ clear around and now faced the enemy, like +a rat terrier amid a battle of mastiffs. + +Madden turned aft as the tug swung around to follow the fortunes of the +_Panther_. He could see German shells exploding now and then on her +decks; sometimes they would strike the sea and send up typhoons of water +and weed. As he gazed a small-calibre gun was struck, and there was +nothing but a ragged smoking hole where the port had been. An instant +later, the mizzen top was shrouded in an emerald flame, and when the +smoke cleared, only a jagged stump of iron thrust skyward. The crew of +range finders had been wiped out in an instant. Several hours later, +Leonard learned that the whole German gunfire had been focussed for +several minutes on the _Panther_. + +But now that gray, smoke-wreathed cruiser rushed on indomitably, flanked +by her thundering consorts. The half-naked men on the _Panther's_ +decks looked curiously small in their huge rushing fortress. German +shells battered her decks amid spangling green flames but could not stop +her. As she overtook the _Vulcan_, the concussion of cannon fire +and bursting shells grew so terrific it ceased to be noise. It resolved +itself into blows, terrific air movements that smote Madden all over. It +pounded his ear drums with physical blows; it tore at the bridge of his +nose, jarred his teeth, sent shooting pains through his head, for he was +not wise enough to stuff his ears with cotton and hold his mouth open. +It shook the pit of his stomach and nauseated him. It was a sound +cyclone. Added to this the sickening acrid smell of niter explosives +filled the atmosphere. + +On came the _Panther_ through the green foam of German fire, +mingling the mighty vibrations of her engines, the hiss of leaping walls +of water, tempests of cannon fire and vindictive shriek of leaping +shells. + +Caradoc leaned over to Madden and yelled something at the top of his +voice. Madden shook his head as a signal that he could not hear. Smith +repeated so loudly that his long face grew red with the strain. It was +impossible to catch a word. Besides, Leonard's ears ached as if the +drums were ruptured. + +Caradoc caught up a speaking trumpet and held it to his friend's ear. + +"Don't look at the _Panther_!" cried a drowned voice. "Watch ahead +for the submarine!" + +The submarine! Sure enough, there was the submarine, silent stiletto, +waiting beneath the sea to stab this fiery monster. Madden's heart +leaped into his throat. Was it possible so slight an antagonist could +engulf the battle cruiser? + +The American turned and stared ahead over the shell-beaten sea with all +his eyes. The little _Vulcan_ was now racing along some half-mile +in front of the English battle line, her warning signal still stretched +between her splintered masts. She rushed at top speed, vibrating under +the stress of her engines. Five or six miles ahead the German squadron +had turned and was flying southward before the superior English force. +Flashes of fire and dull thunder still belched from their after turrets. + +Leonard tried to confine his attention to the adjacent waters in careful +search for the diving boat's periscope, but the terrific spectacle +across the smoky spangled sea gripped his eyes beyond his control. + +The ship on the eastern wing of the Teuton line was in flames. The fire +burst out of the gun deck ports, lapping up over the boat decks in long +red curling tongues. Her cannon fire had ceased, and from what Leonard +could see, he thought the English ships had quit firing at her. She +still fled southward, however. Smoke began to roll out of her turrets, +and her crew came swarming out on her deck like a disturbed ant's nest. +Through his glasses, Madden saw them hunched against the fire, working +to launch a boat, when of a sudden there was a blinding flare; a huge +cloud of smoke leaped from the sea, and after four or five minutes, a +thunder heavily audible even amid the roar of battle rumbled in Madden's +ears. It was the solemn note of a battleship destroyed by its own +magazines. When the smoke cleared away there was left nothing save +tossing waves and bits of flotsam here and there. + +The horror of the tragedy was lost for Leonard in another, more +appalling scene. The right central battleship had lost control of her +steering gear, and now she ran wildly amuck in the fleeing line like a +drunken giant of steel. + +Through accident, or by the last shift of seamanship, she veered about +broadside on, her huge guns still belching defiance. In crazy flight, +she barely missed one of her own squadron, then rounded back in a great +circle for the English line. No doubt her crew did not try to stop her, +hoping that her unguided charge might work some damage to the enemy. + +On she came, against the focussed storm of English cannon, her prow, +forward turrets, bridge, masts, fairly disintegrated under a bastinado +of twelve and fourteen-inch shells. Yet it seemed as if she would +survive it all and ram some English cruiser, when a cloud of steam broke +out of her hold. A lucky shot had exploded her boilers. Her wild charge +ceased instantly, but her sub-calibre guns still chattered defiance at +the crushing odds. Giant shells were now pounding her at point-blank +range. At some stroke of a cruiser to the right of the _Panther_, +the German ship heeled heavily on her starboard side. + +Through his glasses, Madden could see the +sailors still struggling to work the guns, though +scores of them were wiped from the deck at +every English shell. Amid clouds of smoke the +black cross of the German battle flag fluttered +undaunted. + +In a few minutes the enemy listed until her guns were at such a high +angle they could no longer be trained against the enemy. Her forward +turret was completely blown away. Bursting shells kept a constant glare +around her. Her boiler and furnace rendered her hold untenable, for her +crew came out of the smoke and formed orderly platoons on her crippled +deck. Shells swept gaps through their files, but they closed again in +regular formation, standing oddly erect on the up-tilted deck. There +was not a gun they could man, not a blow could they strike, yet the men +stood firm in the steel cyclone sweeping across their shattered deck. +Then Madden turned his lens on a group a little to one side of the main +formation, and his eye caught the gleam of silver horns, the rise and +fall of a drummer's arm, the fierce beating of a director with a baton. +It was the ship's musicians. The band was playing, the men were chanting +the battle hymn of the empire; out of the heart of the foundering +cruiser, out of the souls of the passing warriors rose triumphantly, +"_Die Wacht am Rhein_." + +Sudden tears filled the eyes of the American and dimmed the splendid +sight. He turned impulsively to his friend. + +"Caradoc! My God!" he screamed in his ear, "why don't they quit firing!" + +"Their flag is still flying--no doubt the halyards are shot away!" + +Even while Smith screamed, a sudden and startling attack was launched +from the _Panther's_ rapid fire and machine guns. They sounded +a shrill treble amid the profound shaking bass of the giant cannon. +The boys looked sharply about to see the object of this abrupt attack, +when they suddenly heard the shrill whistling of steel all about their +ears. + +With the utmost horror, Madden saw every tiny port spouting continuous +flame in his direction. Steel frothed the sea all around the +_Vulcan_. Missiles struck the little tug and glanced off with sharp +musical twangs. The crew of the little boat, who swarmed on deck, +wonderstruck at the battle of the giants, suddenly darted to cover with +wild yells. + +"They're crazy! They're daft!" screamed Madden. "Shooting at us! What's +the matter with 'em?" + +Caradoc, also, seemed to share the madness. He suddenly spun his wheel +to the left, veered in a sharp circle, and dashed straight toward the +course of the _Panther_ into the thickest of the hail. Leonard +stood beside him, frozen stiff, when straight ahead, he suddenly saw a +periscope show for an instant, then disappear in a little swirl of +water. The submarine had come into the action. + +The tug rushed straight through the bullet-rumpled water to the point +where the metal fin had disappeared, like a terrier dashing at a +rathole. + +With the disappearance of the submarine's "eye," the fusillade ceased +abruptly. The great cannon were firing more slowly now and there came +short intervals of comparative silence in the battle. + +From the bridge Caradoc bellowed fiercely at his men: "Spread around the +rail--keep a sharp lookout for the submarine!" The crew came back with a +will now that they learned the bombardment had not been intended for +them. + +In the meantime the tiny David had put the great Goliath to flight. The +_Panther_ was endeavoring to save herself. She veered out of the +thundering battle line and zigzagged easterly, in full flight from any +enemy that she could almost drop down one of her smokestacks. + +And the little _Vulcan_ swung about in an effort to keep up with +her principal. On she rushed, shaking and puffing like a locomotive, her +bright flags flying the submarine warning, as if the speeding giant +ahead of her were likely to forget it. + +Suddenly Hogan bawled out: "By th' port! By th' port, sir! There she +rises!" + +Another shrill storm from the giant showed that the gunners aboard the +_Panther_ also saw the periscope. + +Again the _Vulcan_ dashed at the diving terror as it disappeared +and the cruiser swung clear around in a northerly tack. Her commander +was trying to outguess the man under the sea. + +A strange game of blind-man's-buff the three dissimilar crafts were +playing. Caradoc assumed the submarine pilot would guess that the +_Panther_ had fled north, and he sent the tug spitting along a +course that would lie between the cruiser and her enemy. The +_Panther_ was forced to repass the _Vulcan_ in the new maneuver. +The giant and pygmy were flying along at top speed, fairly abreast, +scarcely five hundred yards apart. + +Leonard took his eyes off the starboard sea a moment to look at the lion +which this mouse was trying to nibble free, when suddenly, not thirty +yards on the _inside_ of the tug popped up the periscope. + +The American rushed to the wheel, jerked it to the starboard. "Yonder! +Yonder!" he bellowed in Caradoc's ear, pointing. + +[Illustration: The Battle.] + +Again the guns shrilled forth; a steel sleet wailed about the +_Vulcan_. Into the teeth of this blast, the tug circled and lunged. + +With fascinated eyes, Madden watched the periscope cut a swirling circle +on the midst of the beaten water and straighten on the _Panther_. + +Now the metal eye was directly under their swaying starboard. A moment +they sped side by side, toward the imperiled cruiser. Madden could +almost have touched the wireless masts. A whine of bullets ripped one of +their lifeboats like a saw and sputtered through the superstructure. + +The periscope, which thrust six or seven feet out of water, disappeared +under the swell of the _Vulcan's_ hull. Suddenly the tug swung her +blunt beak around with the sidelong blow of an angry swine. Madden went +flying to the right rail of the bridge to stare down at the imminent +tragedy. + +A dim shadowy bulk was hurtling through the blue water. Suddenly, just +as the tug's prow swung athwart her course, the submarine lined up +straight with the _Panther_. A great belching of bubbles wallowed +up through the turbulent sea as a sign that the torpedo was launched. + +A heart-stopping moment, in which the diving boat, the darting shadow of +the torpedo, the blocking prow of the _Vulcan_ was clear. + +A titanic upheaval of water; volcanic fires leaping out of the heart of +the deep; a roar so absolutely appalling that it reduced the battle to a +whisper! + +The prow of the _Vulcan_ reared up and bent back over the main +deck. In the same instant, out of the cauldron sea, an enormous +cigar-shaped object was flung end-over-end, as a child flings a spindle. +There was one flashing glimpse of conning tower, smashed plates. Then a +clap of surging air that seemed as solid as oak picked Madden up as if +he had been thistledown. He felt himself whirling through space. +Somehow, he caught a glimpse of a string of signals that had been blown +from the wrecked masts of the shattered _Vulcan_. Then he felt a +stinging blow of water as he hit the sea. + +The submarine had destroyed both herself and the tug with her first +torpedo. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE VICTORIA CROSS + + +Shocked, stunned, half blinded, Madden found himself kicking in the +water amidst a wreckage of spars, planks, buoys, with here and there a +swimmer struggling to stay on the surface. The whole mass of flotsam +swung slowly around the whirlpool where tug and submarine had sunk. + +The circling water was filmed with oil, the life-blood of the stricken +submarine. Presently the concavity in the ocean mounted to level, and +its rotation slowly died away. The American found that his arms had +unwittingly clasped something which proved to be an empty tin canister +with a screw top. He hung to it apathetically. His ears bled from the +concussion of the torpedo, and it was with difficulty that he focussed +his eyes on anything. + +Presently he became aware of a voice calling his name. It seemed a long +way off, but when he looked around he saw Farnol Greer quite close to +him. The thick-set black-headed fellow motioned for Madden to approach, +and the American kicked himself and his float in that direction. A +little later he saw that Malone was with Farnol, and that the two were +supporting a third man. + +"Lend us a 'and, 'ere, Madden," called Malone; "our chap's knocked out." + +"Who is it? Oh, it's Caradoc!" Madden stared down into the still, +upturned face with a dull emotionless feeling. He was too numb to feel +or sympathize. "Is he dead?" he finally asked. + +"Wounded, sir," replied Greer. + +At that moment, the Englishman moved slightly, opened his eyes. +"We--stopped it, Madden." + +"Are you badly hurt?" inquired the American, becoming more nearly normal +himself. + +"Punch through my shoulder." + +"Were you hit in the explosion?" + +"One of the _Panther's_ machine guns--ricocheted, I think." + +"What rotten luck!" growled Madden. + +Smith reached his good arm to the float. "Had it all my life in little +things, Madden, but the _Panther_--that torpedo----" + +"Boat ahoy!" called Farnol Greer suddenly. + +Leonard looked about and saw that the _Panther_ had laid to, a good +two miles distant, and two of her cutters were coming back to pick up +the survivors. A blue-jacket on the sharp bow of the little vessel waved +an arm at Farnol's cry, and presently the rescuing party was alongside. +Caradoc went up first, then Farnol, Malone and Madden, who automatically +clung to his tin canister. + +The sailors from the warship were chattering excitedly over the +miraculous preservation of the _Panther_. + +"If that tug had been 'arf a second later," declared one, "she'd 'ave +'ad us, Sniper, sure--to th' port, there, Bobby, there's another chap +kickin' in th' water." + +One of the sailors had a roll of bandages, and he now moved over to +Caradoc and stooped over the wounded man. + +"You're pinked," he said in a tone of authority. "I'll take a turn o' +this linen around your shoulder." Suddenly he paused as he glanced into +the sufferer's face. "Why--why, hit's the Lieut'nant!" he stammered. +Then he stood erect and saluted properly. "Would you 'ave a bandage, +sir?" he asked in a different one. + +Caradoc assented wearily and shifted his shoulder for the band of linen. +The fellow must have been a surgeon's helper, for he applied the strip +rather dexterously as the cutter steamed about picking up the rest of +the _Vulcan's_ crew who had survived the catastrophe. + +Half an hour later friendly hands helped the waifs up the +_Panther's_ accommodation ladder, where a group of officers and men +waited to be of service to the _Vulcan's_ crew. + +The deck of the cruiser was torn and blackened from the German fire; +here and there were sailors in bandages. Stretchers were placed at the +head of the ladder for the tug's wounded. + +The crew, of the _Panther_ showed the utmost cordiality and also +the utmost curiosity toward their visitors. A dapper young midshipman +gripped Madden's hand as he stepped on the broad deck. + +"Where did that tug come from?" he inquired at once. "Most extraordinary +sight--whole fleet pounding away at a tug--Ponsonby is my name." + +Madden mentioned his own, and several brother officers, seeing that here +was an intelligent fellow, gathered about the American. Two or three +were introduced with English formality. + +"If you are not too bowled over, old chap," begged a middy named +Gridson, "explain to us how a tug ever happened in the middle of the +Sargasso in full flight from a hostile fleet." + +Some of the wounded were still coming up from the cutter, as Madden made +a beginning of the tug's story. Just then he was interrupted by +Ponsonby. + +"Pardon, Madden, but who is that chap coming up--Say, Gridson, that +isn't--why that's Wentworth!" The middy suddenly dropped his voice. +"That's Wentworth or his ghost, fellows--off of a _tug_!" + +Madden looked. Smith was coming on the deck under the solicitous escort +of a surgeon. + +"That's Caradoc Smith," said Madden. "He assumed command of the tug when +he found out war was declared." + +"Smith was part of his name," explained Gridson. "Caradoc +Smith-Wentworth was the way he signed the register. He's of the Sussex +Smith-Wentworths. His brother took the title, you know." + +"Just fancy!" marveled Ponsonby. "Cashiered six months ago, comes back +chasing submarines on a tug, a hero, from boot strap to helmet--a bloody +hero----" + +"Hold there, Ponsonby," cautioned another officer named Appleby. "The +chap may be hurt seriously--you oughtn't to laugh." + +"Just look at the old man shaking his hand!" ejaculated Gridson, as a +very erect gray-headed officer came down off the bridge and extended his +hand. "You wouldn't think he had cashiered him six months ago." + +"I hope he gets his commission back," said Ponsonby, "but he will likely +lose it again from tippling." + +"I believe he is cured," said Madden. + +Appleby made some reply as the little group moved forward to meet the +wounded man. However, the surgeon and three senior officers were walking +with him below to the ship's hospital. + +It required two full days to get the _Panther_ into shipshape +condition, and during that time the entire fleet kept a sharp lookout +for the German mother ship, but that huge mysterious vessel had +disappeared as utterly as if the Sargasso had swallowed her up. + +Perhaps she did destroy herself to prevent capture, or perhaps her +sky-blue hue allowed the fleet to sail under her very prow while she +remained invisible. No doubt the two German warships which escaped had +warned their consort of her danger, and she had sailed for some port in +German Africa. At any rate she was never captured or destroyed. + +However, on the evening of the third day, the looming red walls of the +floating dock appeared on the eastern horizon. It was so huge and vast +that even the crew of the battleship burst into a cheer. + +Captain Ames of the _Panther_ immediately communicated with the +admiralty and arrangements were made to tow the dock to Antigua, where +she would be kept as a naval reserve until the end of the war and then +allowed to proceed to Buenos Aires. + +The British Towing and Shipping Company was repaid for the loss of the +_Vulcan_, and a prize of five hundred thousand dollars distributed +among the tug's crew for sinking the submarine. Thus the dreams of +wealth aroused by the ill-fated _Minnie B_ were realized in a small +way by the dock's crew. No doubt Deschaillon has his frog pond, old Mrs. +Galton her plot of flowers, and Hogan a tall hat, a long-tailed coat and +a silver-headed cane. + +One week after the Battle of the Sargasso, a formal dinner was given in +the officers' mess. At this affair two civilians were present, Leonard +Madden and Caradoc Smith-Wentworth. + +Under the radiance of many electric lights, Caradoc appeared rather weak +and bloodless. However, everyone seemed quite cheerful. The talk was +naturally of the war. The officers were speculating upon the entrance of +Italy and Turkey into the struggle. + +Presently Captain Ames touched an electric button and Gaskin, serene, +deferential and wearing an added dignity along with his new uniform, +entered the cabin with a basket full of ice and bottles on his arm. + +When his helpers had cleared the table, the fat fellow moved decorously +from diner to diner, announcing each port of call by the subdued pop of +a champagne cork muffled in his napkin. Madden shook his head when the +solemn fellow bent solicitously over him. "Make mine water, Gaskin," he +requested in an undertone, laying three fingers over his goblet. + +The cook changed almost imperceptibly from a straw colored bottle to a +glittering carafe of water; then he moved to Caradoc. + +The Englishman hesitated a moment, glanced at Madden and said, "Same +thing, Gaskin." + +Captain Ames must have observed his action, and showed his silent +approval by requesting water for himself. A few moments later the +captain arose. + +"Gentlemen," he began in his crisp military voice, "His Majesty, and all +England, are greatly pleased at the work of the South Atlantic fleet. In +the report of our recent victory, the commander of the _Panther_ +had an extremely cogent reason to commend very heartily the action of a +former officer of this vessel. To be exact and fair, it was an act upon +which the safety of this vessel and her crew depended." + +A little polite applause filled the slight interval in the speech. +Caradoc colored somewhat and the captain continued. + +"It is pleasant to me to announce that His Majesty, through the +Admiralty, has seen fit to reward this act by tendering Caradoc +Smith-Wentworth his commission as first lieutenant in His Majesty's +navy." + +A real outburst of applause greeted this announcement, but the captain +held up his glass and raised his voice for silence. + +"And I have the further pleasure to tender to Mr. Smith-Wentworth, at +his Majesty, George the Fifth's, express command, the Victoria Cross for +conspicuous bravery upon the field of battle." + +"Let us drink his health!" he finished above the congratulatory uproar +that broke out on the announcement. + +The men held their goblets at arm's length. + +"Here's to you, Wentworth!" "To your deserved honor, my boy!" "To your +well-earned promotion, Wentworth!" they chorused heartily. + +In the lull of drinking, Madden lifted his water to his friend. + +"Here's to the _remittance_ man," he proposed solemnly, "who +vanishes to-night and leaves a _Man_." + +Caradoc's long face was deeply moved as he looked into the eyes of the +youth whose life Providence had so intimately entwined with his own. +After a moment he responded steadily enough, "With all my heart, Madden. +And here's to the land which you taught me how to serve, my country--my +home--Old England!" + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Cruise of the Dry Dock, by T. S. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Cruise of the Dry Dock + +Author: T. S. Stribling + +Release Date: December, 2005 [EBook #9547] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 8, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUISE OF THE DRY DOCK *** + + + + +Produced by Robert Shimmin, David Garcia +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +[Illustration: They Were at Last Under the Overhang of the Mysterious +Schooner.] + + + + + + +The Cruise of the Dry Dock + +By T.S. Stribling + + + +Illustrated by Herbert Morton Stoops + + + +1917 + + +_The Cruise of the Dry Dock_ + +_Lovingly Dedicated to My Mother_ + + + + + + +CONTENTS + + I The Dry Dock + II Adventure Begins + III The Last of the _Vulcan_ + IV An Interrupted Meeting + V Sail Ho! + VI The Cul de Sac + VII Trapped + VIII The Mystery Ship + IX A Modern Columbus + X The Strange End of the _Minnie B_ + XI Caradoc Shows His Mettle + XII The Return of the _Vulcan_ + XIII The Sea Serpent + XIV Caradoc Wins His Fight + XV Towed! + XVI Caradoc Takes Command + XVII The Get-Away + XVIII Nerve Versus Gunpowder + XIX Chased by a Submarine + XX The Lone Chance + XXI The Battle + XXII The Victoria Cross + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + They Were at Last Under the Overhang of the Mysterious Schooner + + Out There Lay Adventure, Mystery--More Than Either Dreamed + + Caradoc Stands the Acid Test + + The Battle + + + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE DRY DOCK + + +"She's movin'!" cried a voice from the crowd on the wharf side. "Watch +'er! Watch 'er!" + +A dull English cheer rippled over the waterfront. + +"Blarst if I see _why_ she moves!" marveled an onlooker. "That tug +looks like a water bug 'itched to a 'ouse-boat--it's hunreasonable!" + +"Aye, but they're tur'ble stout, them tugs be," argued a companion. + +"It's hunreasonable, just the same, 'Enry!" + +"Everything's hunreasonable at sea, 'Arry. W'y w'en chaps put to sea +they tell we're they're at by lookin' at th' _sun_." + +"Aw! An' not by lookin' at th' map?" + +"By lookin' at th' sun, 'pon honor!" + +"Don't try to jolly me like that, 'Enry, me lad; that's more +hunreasonable than this." + +By this time the cheers had become general and the conversation broke +off. An enormous floating dry dock, towed by an ocean-going tug, slowly +drew away from the ship yards on the south bank of the Thames, just +below London. The men on the immense metal structure, hauling in ropes, +looked like spiders with gossamers. A hundred foot bridge which could be +lifted for the entrance of ocean liners, spanned the open stern of the +dock and braced her high side walls. These walls rose fifty or sixty +feet, were some forty feet thick and housed the machinery which pumped +out the pontoons and raised the two bridges, one at each end. The tug, +the _Vulcan_, which stood some two hundred yards down stream, +puffing monotonously at the end of a cable, did seem utterly inadequate +to tow such a mass of metal. Nevertheless, to the admiration of the +crowd, the speed of the convoy slowly increased. + +Tug and dock were well under way when the onlooking line was suddenly +disrupted by a well-dressed youth who came bundling a large suit case +through the press and did not pause until on the edge of the green +moulded wharf. + +"Boat!" he hailed in sharp Yankee accent, gesticulating at a public +dory. "Here, put me aboard that dry dock, will you? Hustle! the thing's +gathering way!" + +"A little late," observed a voice at the newcomer's elbow. + +"Yes, I hung around London Tower trying to see the crown jewels, then I +broke for St. Paul's for a glimpse of Nelson's Monument, then I ran down +to Marshalsea, where Little Dorrit's father--make haste there, you +slowpoke water-rat! Rotton London bus service threw me six minutes +late!" he concluded. + +The American's explosive energy quickly made him a focus of interest. + +"What are you trying to do?" smiled the Englishman, "jump out of a +Cook's tour into a floating dock?" + +The American turned on the joker and saw a tall, well-set-up young +fellow with extraordinarily broad shoulders, long brown face, stubby +blond mustache, who looked down on him with amused gray eyes. + +"In a way," grinned the man with the suit case. "I'm knocking about all +over the map, trying to see if the world is really round. Got a job +aboard that dock--going with her to Buenos Aires--Say, slow-boy, is that +dory of yours anchored, or is it really coming this way?" + +"Coomin' that way, sor!" wheezed the waterman from below. + +"That's a coincidence," observed the stranger, twirling his pale +mustache. "I had a berth on her, too." He indicated a huge English kit +bag at his feet. + +"Then you'd better get a move on if you're going!" snapped the American, +instantly taking charge of the whole affair. "Shoot your grip here!" He +stood ready to receive and deliver it to the boatman who had landed +below. + +"Had about decided not to go," frowned the Briton with an odd change of +manner. "It looks--er--so nasty over there--still, if you can endure it +I suppose I--" the final phrase was lost in the swing at his big kit +bag. + +The American followed the luggage hurriedly; the tall fellow lowered +himself calmly and with a certain precision into the stern of the dory. +The boatman set out toward the gliding mass of iron. + +The blond youth surveyed their distance from the great dock and marked +its deliberate but deceptive speed. + +"I doubt whether we catch it after all," he remarked with slight +interest in his voice. + +"Then we'll take a train to Gravesend and get aboard boat there," +planned the American promptly. + +A smile glimmered on the long brown face for a moment. "That's very +Yankee-like, I believe," he said complimentarily. + +With the brisk friendliness of his nation, the Yankee drew a morocco +case from his pocket. "Leonard Madden is my name," he said as he offered +a bit of engraved card. + +The Englishman started to reach inside his coat but paused. "I am +Caradoc Smith," he replied gravely. Then, as an afterthought, he drew a +small silver-mounted flask from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, poured it +full of a liquor and offered it. + +"To a pleasant acquaintance and a profitable journey, Mr. Madden," he +began ceremoniously. + +A slight flush reddened the white skin at Madden's collar, but did not +show on his tanned face. It always embarrassed him to be forced to +reject friendly overtures. + +"Sorry," he shook his head; "don't use it. But the wish goes." + +The Englishman looked his surprise. "Then, if you don't object--" he +lifted pale brows. + +"Certainly not; do as you like." + +Smith tossed the capful down his throat. "You know, I've met several +Americans," he commented more warmly, "and half of them don't use +alcoholics. Strange thing--can't fancy why." + +Madden went into no explanation. They were nearing the dock by this time +and their boatman began a hoarse calling for some one on board to toss a +line. + +It was like shouting for a man in a city block. The basal pontoon rose +twelve feet above their heads; beyond this towered the thick side walls +spanned by the bridge. The waterline of the whole dock was painted a +bright red, some four feet high, and above this rose an expanse of raw +black iron, punctuated with long rows of shining rivet heads. + +The boatman was rowing at top speed and bellowing like an asthmatic fog +horn. "We'll never git nobody," he wheezed. "Nobody seems to stay around +this section of th' dock, sor." + +Madden raised a lusty shout; the great structure was slowly increasing +her speed. + +"Yell, Smith, yell!" he counseled between shouts. "We may not be able to +get a train to Gravesend in time!" + +"I'm not that eager to go," observed the Englishman with a shrug. + +The dory was falling behind. Madden leaped up, ran to the oars and began +pushing as the boatman pulled. Their united efforts just kept the blunt +little dory in the hissing wake of the dock. + +"Help! Line! Aboard dock! Lend a line!" the two of them roared +discordantly. + +"We're not going to make it!" cried Madden desperately. "Lend a hand +here, Smith!" + +At that moment a dark head with sharp black mustaches popped over the +stern of the dock. + +"Ah-ha! A race!" cried the man above in a French accent. "Come, Mike, +zee the English sporting speerit! Voila! What a race--a dory and a dry +dock!" + +"Throw us a line!" shrieked Madden, "you blithering--think this is fun?" + +"Ah, pardon, a thousand pardons! I hasten!" + +He disappeared and a few seconds later a coil of rope came hurtling +down. Madden caught it and his toil was over. A moment later another +sailor, of distinct Irish physiognomy, dropped down a rope ladder to the +boat. They paid the sweating boatman a double fare, climbed up and +hoisted their bags with the line. + +Only when on board did the lads appreciate the enormous size of the +dock. It would have been impossible to throw a baseball from one end to +the other. The black sides rose above them like an iron canyon. Ranging +down these precipices were innumerable huge iron stanchions for the +shoring of ocean liners. Toward the forward end of the dock was a two +hundred ton pile of coal, for the use of the tug, but it was dwarfed to +the size of a kitchen supply by the black expanse around it. On the +other side there were erected a few temporary wooden houses to serve as +kitchen, dining room, and quarters for the crew on the voyage. There +were a group of men loitering about these cabins. + +The newcomers still stared at their gigantic surroundings when the +interested Frenchman said politely: + +"It ees large, beeg, yes?" + +"Where's the boss?" inquired Leonard. "We've got jobs aboard this +craft." + +"He is making out the papers now, I think, and ees in a bad temper, +too." + +With this discouraging information, the two young men started for the +officers' cabin. As they entered the place they met a crew of typical +London longshoresmen coming out. Inside, a stocky purple-cheeked cockney +stood at a little desk and glowered at them with small red eyes. + +"'Ow's this?" he growled sharply, and in some surprise. "You are not in +th' crew Hi picked hup." + +"No, we applied at the office--" + +"Hoffice, hoffice," snarled the man. "W'ot do they know about men, +settin' hup there with their legs cocked hup? W'ot is it ye want +anyway?" + +Leonard silently offered a paper he had received from the British Towing +and Shipping Company. The mate wrinkled his half inch of knobbly brow as +he read the paper in a low undertone, after the manner of illiterate +men. + +"And by the way, my man," began Caradoc in stiff condescension, "we +would like one of those cabins to ourselves." + +The mate flung up a club-like head and threw back his blocky shoulders. +"_My man!_" he gasped. "Ye call me _my man_, ye little cigarette-suckin' +silk-hatted Johnny--orderin' private cabins! W'ot ye think this is--a +floatin' 'otel?" + +Madden bit his lip to keep from smiling at the odd play of anger and +surprise on Smith's long expressive face. + +"No harm meant, Mr. ----" began the American soothingly. + +"Malone--Mate Malone!" stormed the angry officer by way of introduction. + +"You understand how friends prefer to bunk together instead of with +strangers. We thought we would ask you about it." + +This soothed the irascible fellow somewhat. Still glowering, he +spraddled out of the cabin with the boys after him, and presently +indicated one of the small temporary cabins with a jerk of his thumb. As +to whether his intentions were kindly or cruel, Madden could not +determine, but their lodgment was a low kennel-like place, the smallest +in the row. Nevertheless it was very clean and smelled of new lumber. It +held four bunks, two on a side. The boys dropped their luggage inside +with the pleasure of travelers reaching their destination. + +"Got no fire arms nor whiskey?" growled the mate, looking through the +door at his new men. + +Both answered in the negative. + +"All right; step lively now. We want to raise that waterline 'igh enough +to work in the waves before we reach th' Channel." + +The lads shut the door after them, then started under Malone's direction +for whatever work he had. + +They found the whole crew swinging along the hundred foot front of the +dock, broadening the brilliant red waterline with all possible dispatch. +The reason for attacking the front first was obvious. In case of rough +weather, the way of the dock would pile the waves higher ahead than +anywhere else. Leonard and his new friend lowered themselves on a +swinging platform over the twelve-foot pontoon and joined in the work. + +Tug and dock were now passing through the congested traffic of the lower +Thames and the enormous English shipping spread in a panorama before +them. Here were barges, smacks, scows, sailing vessels; big liners +plowing through the press with hoarse whistles; rusty English tramps, +that carried the Union Jack to the uttermost ends of the earth. Even a +few dreadnoughts lay castled on the broadening waters. On both sides of +the river, dull warehouses and factories stretched out rusty wharves, +like myriad fingers, to receive the tonnage that converged on this +center of the world's activities. + +American curiosity almost prevented Madden from working at all. He +painted intermittently, between wonders, so to speak. As for Caradoc, he +made no pretense to labor, but propped a broad shoulder against the +supporting rope, stuck a cigarette under his white mustache and fell to +regarding the waterscape in a serious, preoccupied fashion. + +"Say, old man," warned Leonard in an undertone, briskly plying his +brush, "that mate looked down at us then. He'll raise a rough house if +we don't get a move on and keep our section up." + +Caradoc came out of his muse, tossed his cigarette into the swirling +water a few feet below him. "Impudent chap!" he snapped. + +Madden laughed. "His trade is to get work out of men and it requires +impudence." + +Caradoc grunted something, perhaps an assent. The two fell briskly to +work and soon made an impression on the blank iron wall. At first the +American chatted of this and that, rehearsing his own aimless ramblings +as men will, but presently he observed that Smith was painting away and +paying no attention to his partner's chatter. + +"What's the worry, old man?" queried Madden lightly. "'Fraid the +paint'll give out?" + +"I presume they have sufficient paint," answered Smith stiffly, as he +flapped his brush across the bright head of a big rivet. + +"Why--yes," agreed Madden, a little taken aback, "but you look like you +might be getting up a grouch at something--" + +"About time to pull up, isn't it?" interrupted Smith. + +The brusqueness in the speech grated on Madden, but they hauled up their +platform without further remarks on either side. The Englishman seemed +to work slower than the American, but somehow covered as much ground. + +The coat of red paint had risen considerably on the dock when the +bosun's whistle gave a faint shrill from the deck. The whole string of +painters facing the pontoon's bow began hauling up their platforms. The +lads followed their example. + +Malone was hastily pulling his crew together in the mess room on the +middle pontoon. He came by waving his short heavy arms in the direction +of the long eating room. + +"Get along aft; you're to sign the ship's papers!" he bawled +monotonously. "Get along!" + +Most of the men walked faster when the mate flung his arms at them. +Leonard felt the impulse to step livelier but held himself to Caradoc's +deliberate stride. + +In the mess room the boys found a compact, black-haired, serious-faced +young man of unknown nationality reading the ship's articles in an +expressionless tone. Nobody listened, although various penalties were +prescribed for desertion, quitting ship without leave, disobedience of +orders, each with its particular fine or punishment. When the reader +finished, the men walked around one by one and signed the register. +Then a copy of the articles was pointed out on the side of the mess +room, and again no one observed. + +The performance was hardly completed when the gong rang for supper. +There were not more than a dozen men at mess. Most were of stolid +English navvy type, dirty uncouth men whose gross irregular features +told of low birth and evil life. The foreign element comprised an +Irishman named Mike Hogan and the Frenchman whom the boys had met when +they first came aboard. The crowd called him Dashalong. Upon inquiry, +Leonard found it to be Deschaillon. The young man who read the articles +was named Farnol Greer. However, he proved a silent, taciturn youth, who +seemed to converse with no one and to have no friends. + +In the long narrow eating cabin mingled the clean smell of newly sawed +lumber and the odor of poor cookery. The meal proved rather worse than +ordinary steerage food. After the first taste Smith put it by, +grumbling. Leonard, who was hungry, consumed about half of his. + +Beef stew and boiled white fish formed the menu. Perhaps there is +nothing quite so slippery and disheartening as boiled white fish grown +luke warm or cold. The navvies ate ravenously enough, but Hogan and +Deschaillon were not so wolfish. + +Mike speared a bit on his fork and regarded it sadly. "This fish reminds +me uv a fun'ril," he observed, "an' yonder lad looks to be chief +mourner," he nodded toward Farnol Greer. + +"He ees not mourning over the feesh," declared Deschaillon gayly. "He +ees struck on heemself, and found his affection ees misplaced." + +Madden laughed. The spirits of the Celt and the Gaul seemed to improve +as their fare grew worse. + +"Oh, av course a frog-atin' Frinchman loike you, Dashalong, would think +any kind av fish a reg'lar feast." + +Deschaillon leaned over to inspect his portion. "Now eet does very +well--to wax zee mustache, Mike." He twirled his own. + +Caradoc grunted disapproval of such doubtful table talk, arose and left +the rough company and rough fare with supercilious condemnation. + +"Your friend's appetite sames as dilicate as his wor-rkin' powers," +observed Hogan as he watched the Englishman stoop and disappear through +the doorway. + +Madden smiled. "We didn't work any too hard this afternoon, did we?" + +Mike and Pierre proved droll companions, ready to jibe at anyone or +anything in perfect good nature, so that it was an hour before Leonard +strolled outside. As he had no further duty, he climbed a long ladder to +the top of the high dock wall and walked forward toward the bridge. + +By this time the sun had set and left the world filled with a luminous +yellow afterglow. The estuary of the Thames had widened abruptly off +Sheerness, and far to the south was the dim line of chalk cliffs that +England thrusts toward France. Overhead stretched a translucent +yellow-green sky with the long black line of the _Vulcan's_ smoke +marking it. + +Leonard moved across the bridge slowly. + +There was almost perfect silence over the great structure below him, +save for the slow creaking of new joints in the iron plates, the +softened chough-choughing of the tug ahead. + +There were several paint barrels piled up on the bridge, slung there no +doubt by machinery, to prevent the men having to toil up with it from +below. The boy leaned against one of these barrels, gazing into the +yellow flood of light that bathed everything in its own saffron. His +heart beat high with a feeling of the hazard of the ocean. He tried +to fancy what would happen to the huge dock as it adventured through +tropic seas. His imagination readily conjured up a kaleidoscope of +incidents--cannibal proas, shark fights, sea serpents, typhoons, +mutinies, what not. + +And at every turn of the tug's propeller all this bright dashing world +of adventure drew nearer and nearer. For some reason he recalled what +the bystander on the dock had said--"Everything is unreasonable at sea," +and he laughed aloud. + +As a sort of gloomy echo of his laugh, his ear caught a groan from the +other side of the paint barrels. With the utmost surprise and curiosity, +he straightened up and moved silently around the pile. + +Then he saw the tall Englishman leaning across the bridge rail, face in +hands, staring at the line of land silhouetted in black between the +brazen sky and the reflecting water. Smith's whole attitude was so +suggestive of trouble that Madden moved forward in generous sympathy. + +The Englishman heard the movement, straightened, looked around; his long +face wore a look of suffering in the colored light. + +"Sorry you're so blue, old man," sympathized the American, making a +guess at the cause of his bad spirits. "Let's have a turn around this +old tub and forget homesickness." + +"Home!" echoed Caradoc gruffly. "It's--it's all England I'm leaving. +It's England and honor and--" he stiffened suddenly and snarled out: "Do +you think I climbed away up here on this bridge hunting your company?" + +Leonard was utterly nonplussed by this shift. "I'm sure I meant no +harm--" + +"Certainly not," sneered Caradoc. "You Americans have the undesired +friendliness of stray puppies--you have no conception of personal +reserve--you turn your souls into moral vaudevilles." + +A flush of indignation swept over Madden. "That's no decent return for a +friendly approach!" he declared hotly, "and I'd rather be a puppy than a +hedgehog any day!" + +Caradoc made no reply, but seemed to erase Madden from his mind and +shifted slowly around to his staring and his thoughts. + +This last bit of impudence fairly clanged on Madden's temper. He felt a +desire to tell this coxcomb just what he thought of him. If Caradoc had +remained facing the American, Madden might have done so, but it feels +foolish to rail at a profile. Madden wheeled angrily, tramped across the +bridge, then down the high side of the dock toward the ladder. From far +below him came Hogan's voice, a concertina, and the sound of clacking +feet. Apparently the Irishman had induced someone to dance a jig. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ADVENTURE BEGINS + + +Fortunately for the British Towing and Shipping Company, the next few +days were glassy calm, and as the _Vulcan_ coughed along the South +England coast, the crew had fair opportunity to raise the coat of paint +out of danger. + +They had finished the ends by this time and were now working on the high +exterior sides of the dock. The labor was distasteful to Leonard, not +within itself, but it is disagreeable to dangle in midair over a huge +iron wall, blue water gurgling below, and sit beside a man who has +affronted one by calling one's manners puppyish and one's soul a +vaudeville. Even if one really be fond of puppies and enjoy vaudeville, +the implication is unpleasant. + +On the third morning after, Caradoc wielded his brush listlessly and +looked sick. His fine shoulders sagged and his eyes were hollow in his +long face. Leonard, whose spirits naturally mounted with the sun, found +it hard to continue the three days' silence. He wanted to talk about the +splendid English coast with its gemlike villages set in green, the +red-sailed fishing smacks, the social gulls feeding in the long trail +behind the dock. It is difficult to be reserved under such conditions. +Then, too, Caradoc was so obviously ill, Madden felt sorry for the +fellow. + +As for the Englishman, he paid little attention to his working mate, but +languidly splashed the iron wall, and himself, with red paint. After +some two hours' work, he stood up on the platform as if sore, made an +irresolute start, finally climbing the rope ladder to the top. Madden +wondered about the queer fellow, but was rather relieved by his absence. +Within twenty or thirty minutes, however, he was back, but in +perceptibly better spirits. He worked briskly for a few minutes, then +dropped brush in pail and turned to Leonard as if no shadow had crossed +their acquaintance. + +"Well, Madden, we can hardly blame the old Phoenicians for guarding the +secret of the Cassiterides, can we?" + +The American almost fell off the platform in surprise. + +"Why--er--no, I don't blame 'em," he blurted, not having a ghost of a +notion what the Englishman was talking about. "No, I--I never blamed 'em +a bit--never did." + +"Those were poetic days, Madden." + +The American stared, his mind as much at sea as his body. + +"Think of that Phoenician sailing his galley for the Isles of Tin. The +Romans follow him, day after day, week after week. But does he betray +the secret of Tyre's wealth?" Caradoc made a gesture. Madden was about +to answer that he didn't know, when the orator went on. + +"He does not. Rather than expose the rich mines of Cornwall, he dashes +his galley upon a reef and risks his life among the early English +barbarians." + +"Was it here where that happened?" asked Madden interestedly, fishing +some such tale from the bottom of his recollection. + +Caradoc stood upright on the swinging platform, hands thrust in jacket +pockets, thumbs out, Oxford fashion. His tall form swayed slowly with +the steady rise and fall of the dock. + +"Certainly, the Cassiterides is Cornwall, and that point of land just +ahead is the spot where the Tyrian wrecked his ship, so the legend +goes." + +Madden's eyes followed Caradoc's gesture. "I've read that story, but I +never thought of seeing the place." + +"Cornwall is entrancing if you care for antiquities," went on Smith in +the polished style of a collegiate. "Four or five miles up that cape are +the Boskednan Circles and the Dawns-un, old Druidic stone temples. Just +across the peninsula is St. Ives, where the virgin Hya appeared +miraculously. It is really regrettable, Madden, that you are leaving +England before you tour Cornwall. A wonderful little island, England. A +land to live for--or to die for, God willing." + +Caradoc stared toward the coast, frowning, with the old familiar look of +pain coming into his eyes. His hearer and his extemporaneous lecture +plainly slipped out of his mind. + +"You've been along here before," suggested Madden with a hope of +diverting Smith's mind. + +"Oh, yes," replied the Englishman gloomily. + +"Sailor, perhaps?" + +"Yes." + +"Not another dry dock, I trust," laughed Madden, turning to work. + +"No." + +"Windjammer?" + +"Yes." + +Leonard nodded at his painting. "Fishing smack, I'll bet." + +The cross-questioning was interrupted by a raucous voice overhead, and +both boys looked up to see the mate's thick torso hanging over the rail. +He was shaking his fist at the tall Englishman. + +"W'ot you think we brought you along for?" he bawled savagely. "To give +lectures? If you don't paint and quit blowin', you win' bag, I'll ship +you at Penzance!" + +Caradoc's face went white, leaving threadlike purple veins showing on +nose and cheeks. "I'm willing to do my duty," he said with a quiver in +his tone. He glanced at his empty paint bucket. "If I'm to work, bring +me paint--I'm out!" + +Caradoc seemed to be able to make the mate madder and do it quicker than +anyone else. + +"Paint! Bring you paint!" roared Malone, apoplectic. "Git out an' git +your paint, or I'll put a longer, uglier head than that on your +shoulders." + +Caradoc gave a shrug, stooped for the bucket, then began composedly +climbing the ladder straight at the sputtering officer. + +"Be careful there, Smith," warned Madden in an undertone; "he'd as soon +as not slug you without giving you a dog's chance." + +Caradoc said nothing but continued his climbing. The men on the platform +fore and aft ceased work, watching the mate and the climbing man +intently. The silence following the usual drone of conversation was +noticeable. + +Caradoc was just reaching up to climb into Malone, when at that moment +something happened that drew and held everybody's attention. + +The whole face of the sea around the dock broke into a sort of +sputtering. The ocean seemed to boil. To his astonishment, Madden saw +the commotion was caused by millions of small fishes leaping and running +along the surface. + +Cries came from all over the dock at once: "Pilchards! Pilchards are +shoaling! Pilchards are shoaling!" + +The few gulls in the sky now seemed to multiply and settled in a +fluttering cloud to strike such easily captured food. Among the press of +little fish leaped cod, hake, dog fish, all feasting on the annual +migration of the pilchards. The crew on the dock scrambled up and over +the sides, flung down boxes, buckets, anything and scooped the fish from +the sea. + +The diversion saved the Englishman from any bellicose intention of the +mate, who hurried off to take a hand in the sport. Madden sat on his +platform watching the fun, for it was a remarkable sight. Caradoc swung +around on the ladder facing Leonard. + +"There, Madden," he cried, "is a sight characteristic of no other sea. +Every season Cornish fisheries capture millions of these fish. They +pickle 'em, can 'em. They even sell them to you Yankees for sardines. +You are fortunate to have seen this phenomenon." + +Leonard studied the novel sight. Hundreds of fishing smacks converged on +the area where the pilchards were breaking, their red sails glowing +warmly against the green of the land and the blue of the sea. Gulls +whirled about the tall dock, filling the air with thin creakings. Madden +admired the sudden picturesque activity. Some of the smacks were so +close now that he could see their long trawls stringing out behind, and +little figures running about their decks, winding in nets, bringing in a +flood of silver fishes. + +The metallic noise of the gulls grew so loud as to blanket all else. In +the midst of this fluttering and shrieking, Leonard heard the shouting +of human voices. He paid little attention. Then some of the men on top +of the dock's side began yelling. At that moment, Caradoc shouted down +Madden's name. Madden looked up. On the instant the swinging platform +under him tipped violently. + +Next moment, Madden saw right beneath him a smack. The vessel was +floating by, and the peak of its boom scraped the high iron wall of the +dock. This boom had struck his platform. + +Madden clutched impotently at the blank iron wall, then flung an arm for +one of the supporting ropes and missed. + +"Jump to me!" yelled Smith. The Englishman was still on the rope ladder, +but had climbed down rapidly when he saw his mate in distress. The boom +was tilting the platform straight up and down. The deck of the smack +below promised to mash the American into a pulp. The fishermen were +shouting. Leonard made a falling leap toward Caradoc's extended hand. He +caught it in both his own. The Englishman's other hand gripped the rope +rung. Unfortunately Madden's body flung out with a twisting motion, and +he could feel Smith's arm grow tense in an effort to keep from being +wrenched. + +Madden was scrambling with his legs for a foothold on the ladder when +the boom dragged past the platform and the whole thing swung back on the +distressed boys. A flying end caught Madden in the side. The blow +sickened him. He clung desperately to Caradoc's hand, his grip +weakening, his senses swimming with the feeling of an awful void beneath +him. The strength in his fingers gave way, and he felt a chill sensation +before the coming downward plunge. But even in his twisted, straining +position, the Englishman's long fingers did not loose Madden's wrist. A +moment later, Leonard had lost consciousness completely, swung in +midair, limp as a bag. + +The American had a dim impression of being drawn to the top of the side +wall, and the crew clustering about him. Someone splashed water in his +face and the world cleared up before his eyes. The young fellow called +Greer was whisking on the water, but when Madden opened his eyes, he set +the bucket down and returned silently to his work. + +"There, ye're bether now," grinned Hogan stooping over the wounded man. +"That platform caught yez a little love lick in the slats--break any of +'em?" + +Leonard reached across and felt his side. "How came the smack there?" he +inquired weakly. "Why didn't I see it?" + +"Ye was lookin' astern, an' th' vissil barely turned the bow of th' dock +an' her boom kissed us all th' way down. I yilled at ye, so did +Dashalong an' th' silent man. Thin I got so interested in l'arnin' he +could say a worrd, I quit lookin' at you complately." + +"I couldn't hear for the gulls--I'll be all right in a minute." + +Leonard looked around and saw Caradoc massaging his twisted arm. He had +an impulse to thank the Briton, but he changed it to, "I hope your arm +isn't badly wrenched, Smith." + +"Quite all right," assured the tall fellow cheerfully. + +The men began to scatter to work again. + +That day at lunch the ship's fare was garnished with an abundance of +delicious pilchards. The whole crew wore a holiday air. During the +afternoon the men sang at their work and labored so merrily and so well +that a broad wash of paint was added to the outside wall. + +Leonard, whose side was sore enough from the thump, did not work. Even +the mate suggested that he take a leave of absence, and stay in his bunk +if he would. + +The boy went at once to his cabin and began hunting in his suit case for +a little medicine chest which he always carried. He wanted arnica for +his bruised side. To his surprise he could not find it. He gave his bag +a thorough search, tumbling garments, trinkets, souvenirs, curiosities, +helter skelter over his bunk, but failed to find his case. + +The loss of the medical carry-all distressed Madden. It had proved +useful in the past. However, he hunted up the mate and begged a +liniment, which must have had a wonderful virtue if a powerful odor was +any indication. + +Leonard rubbed the stuff on his side and turned into his bunk. His side +grew so sore he wondered whether or not his ribs really were broken +after all. In his dark den he could still hear the gulls wailing, +although the tug had passed the major portion of the shoaling pilchards. +There also came to him the constant creaking of the dock, the slow dull +recurrence of the ground swell against her bow. The boy's mind centered +fretfully on his lost medicine chest. No doubt it was stolen, and he +began wondering which of the crew had taken it. His suspicion played +idly over the crew, and then settled on the youth called Greer. His +reason for this was that Greer said very little. Madden thought this +must be the sign of a guilty conscience. + +He did not brood long, however, as the monotonous sounds exerted a +hypnotic effect on his senses. Once or twice as he was almost falling +asleep, he felt himself clinging desperately to Caradoc's hand, his grip +weakening, the fearsome void gaping under him, then he would awake with +a start that sent a knife of pain through his bruised ribs. After that +he would be forced to feel once more to test his costal region for +broken bones. Finally the vision failed to paint itself, or did not +rouse him, and he slept. + +After an indeterminate interval, he was awakened by someone entering the +room. It was fairly dark now and by lifting a head over the side of his +berth, he saw the outline of the Frenchman standing by the door. Madden +thought of the stolen medicine chest and remained silent. + +The Gaul was about to withdraw when Madden called out. + +"What is it, Deschaillon?" + +"I just came by to say your frien' ees in trouble. Zay play cards in zee +salon. Smeeth he win _beaucoup_. Zay quarrel, perhaps zay fight. He +ees your frien', and--" + +Leonard smiled when he heard the mess hall dignified into a salon; but +at the latter end of the sentence he sat up suddenly in his bunk and +began pulling on his jacket despite the twinges in his side. + +"Eh, how's that--fight?" + +At that instant Hogan lolled against the jamb and announced his entrance +with a laugh. + +"What's this Deschaillon's telling me, Mike--the men fighting over +cards?" + +"Sure now I heard him and told him not to be wakin' a sick man up for +sich trifles. They was a few raymarks ixchanged, but nawthin' ser'us." +He turned reproachfully on the Gaul. "Nixt time be advised by me and +don't be wakin' a sick man for nawthin'." + +The two walked away and Leonard leaned back in his bunk, quite sleepless +now. He stared into the blackness, his mind a moving picture show of the +last three days. The Englishman was chief actor on this stage, and his +disagreeably mixed character puzzled and disturbed the American. +Caradoc's language and manners showed him to be a man of breeding, but +he was full of contradictory habits. His uncosmopolitan moodiness, his +vulgar quarreling over cards, were typical instances. + +Leonard almost regretted that he had formed an uncomfortable intimacy +with the fellow, but he could not very well break it off now since Smith +had saved him from a fall that might easily have proved fatal. + +Just then the Englishman entered the cabin silently. He lighted the +bracket lamp quietly and looked about to satisfy himself that his mate +was asleep. Later Madden heard him open his big kit bag and take +something out. A moment after, the odor of alcohol scented the little +cabin. + +Leonard lifted his head and saw the fellow under the lamp, just lifting +the silver cap to his lips. A disagreeable smile moulded the long face, +wrinkled the nostrils and slid away under the choppy blond mustache. The +strong light from the overhead lamp brought out an almost sinister +countenance. + +The thought that such a man had probably saved his life filled Madden +with a kind of repulsion. He turned in his bunk with a little disgusted +grunt. + +Caradoc dropped the little cap and came to the bunk. + +"Side hurt, old man?" he asked anxiously. + +"Yes--no--nothing the matter." + +"Oh, maybe you don't like this odor--forgot you didn't drink." He +stepped quickly to the kit bag, replaced the bottle and cap inside and +closed it. Like many alcohol users he labored under the delusion that +alcohol was not offensive on his _breath_. + +"Nervous shock you received seemed to upset you more than the punch," he +diagnosed in a concerned voice. "You Americans are a high-strung +nation." He paused a moment philosophically. "I daresay you're right +about not drinking spirits. With your nervous organism, it would set you +on fire. But our foggy English climate and stodgy people call for it. +Sets our pulses going. A thought just here--Climate and Alcoholism. Not +a bad subject for a scientific investigation, is it?" + +Madden grunted. + +"I'll blow out the light unless you'll have me rub some more of that +villainous stuff on your ribs?" + +The patient declined this. + +"Need water or medicine during the night throw your boots at me--I'm +hard to wake," + +Then he puffed out the light. + +[Illustration: Out There Lay Adventure, Mystery--More Than Either +Dreamed.] + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE LAST OF THE _VULCAN_ + + +A temporary rudder had been installed on the unwieldy dry dock, and each +twenty-four hours Mate Malone detailed seven men to stand watch, which +gave the regulation dog watch, although there was no need of it with a +double complement of men. Thanks to his bruised ribs, the American had +thus far escaped duty at the wheel. About a week after the pilchard +incident, he reported ready for this service, when a twist of +circumstance rendered it unnecessary. + +A long stretch of fair weather had been enjoyed by the dock painters on +a steadily dropping barometer. On this particular day a cold puffy wind +developed out of the northeast, bringing with it a rack of clouds and +spreading a choppy sea below. + +From where Madden painted on the corner of the dock, he had a good view +of these chasing waves that rose a moment in the gray seascape, nodded a +white cap, then dropped back into the waste of water. + +"Wonder if a storm would affect this old box much?" he queried of +Caradoc. + +"Probably have a chance to see," opined Smith, looking out with a +speculative eye. "By the by, what's that?" + +Caradoc pointed toward the _Vulcan_, which already exhibited the +motion of the rollers. + +Madden looked. A sailor stood on the tug's round stern waving two flags +toward the dock. + +The American arose from his work, funneled his hands before his lips and +called to the man, but the spitting wind whisked away his words, and the +sailor went on with his flag. + +Madden regarded it attentively a few moments. "He's wig-wagging--wants +to speak to the mate. I'll go for him." He trotted aft. + +Leonard found the officer in his cabin and told his mission. The mate +arose at once and came out with the lad. "Don't know w'ot 'e wants, do +you?" he inquired. + +"I only spelled his message till I found he wanted you." + +"Huh--understand flag signals, do ye?" grunted Malone, shifting his +inflamed eyes to Madden's face. + +"Learned it in my engineering course," explained the lad. + +The two passed on to the bow, when the sailor on the tug starting waving +once more. Mate Malone watched the man until he had finished spelling +out the message, then he turned to Leonard and asked: + +"Know w'ot 'e said?" + +"Parker's sick and they need you," translated the American. + +"Good," grinned the mate with more fellowship than he had ever shown +before. "Now, lookee here, young chap. They're going to send a cutter +for me to come and take Parker's place. You strike me as a decent sort, +so I'll leave you in my berth till I get back. You won't have nothin' to +do hexcept tell off th' watches an' keep th' boys paintin'. Softer'n +your fo'cs'l job, though you won't git no hextra pay--wot about it?" + +"That goes with me," agreed Madden readily. + +"All right, you signal me about anything you don't understand. Make the +men step, lively, same as if you was me." + +By this time the tug had slowed down a trifle and a boat put out from +her. While it came bobbing over the water, Malone bawled his men +together and briefly explained his transfer of authority. + +"Be back jest as soon as Parker's all right," he said as he climbed from +dock to dancing boat below. "And, by the way, Mr. Madden, you will bunk +in my cabin." + +That "Mister Madden" from the mate was the great seal of authority. The +men looked at him with new eyes. + +Somehow, Malone's confidence pleased Madden. That uncouth, bullet-headed +officer had not spent his whole life on the high seas, belaboring all +classes of men into serviceableness, without being able to judge the +genus homo pretty shrewdly. + +The navvies accepted the new officer in stolid submission, but Hogan +clapped his hands. "Hey, a spache fr-rom th' new boss!" he grinned. + +Leonard laughed. "My speech is to get back to work, and I'll do the +same," said the boy, returning to his bucket. + +This appealed to the cockneys, who gave a dull English cheer, and then +everybody settled back to their tasks once more. + +"What's the use in your painting, Madden?" asked Caradoc, "You don't +have to." + +Leonard was amused, "They tell me a chap whose work is no bigger than +his contract, never gets a contract for bigger work." + +"What's that?" frowned Smith. "That sounds like Yankee smartness to +me--seems to make a great deal more sense than it really does." + +"Anyway, I don't want to rat on you fellows, just because Malone left me +in charge for a day or so." + +Caradoc made no answer, but stared after the rowboat which was just +rounding into the tug. "If I'd played up to that officer a bit," he +smiled dourly, "I could have had the mate's berth, Madden." + +The American glanced up. The Englishman's smile recalled the look +Leonard had seen under the bracket lamp. + +"Well, there's very little in it for anyone, I'm thinking." + +"Certainly, certainly," Smith shrugged a broad shoulder and the subject +was dismissed. + +The blustery weather increased steadily, and by lunch time the wind was +blowing half a gale. Regiments of waves marched against the dock and +snapped spray high up the red sides. Their constant blows rang through +the big iron structure. A feeling of security came to Madden as he saw +the gray-green waves break white, and yet not shake the huge barge +sufficiently to tip the paint from the men's buckets. Certainly the dock +was monstrous. + +The sea grew rougher as evening wore on and finally the boy went to the +mate's cabin to pick out his men for the night's work. After his own +cramped quarters, Malone's room proved delightful. Three glass ports +admitted light. A table in the center of the room spread over with a +Mercator's projection showed that Malone dutifully pricked the +_Vulcan's_ course on the chart, although it was not required of +him. A sextant and quadrant told the American that the stolid Briton +worked out his own reckonings. The sight of these things filled the boy +with a respect for the uncouth fellow. He understood how doggedly Malone +must have labored to acquire mastery over the instruments of navigation. +Beyond this there were a number of flaring chromos on the walls, a +decanter of wine and glasses in a chest. He found what he was looking for +in the desk drawer, a roll of men checked off for watches. The coming +night was arranged for, but for morning, the names of Heck Mulcher, Ben +Galton and Caradoc Smith stood in order. Madden was just marking these +men when there was a tap at the door. + +Upon call, Gaskin, the cook, entered, bearing a big tray of dishes, "Yer +dinner, sir," he said, very respectfully. + +Madden had not anticipated having the mate's meals served to him, and +for a moment he came near asking the cook if he had not made a mistake; +but the steaming tray and the pleasant odors kept the question unspoken. +Only with this diet before him did he realize that he had been fairly +starving on the poor ship's rations. + +When Gaskin placed the soup on the table, Madden became aware that the +dock was rolling rather heavily, for the liquid spilled over the side of +the plate, while dishes and tureens went coasting up and down the +boards. + +"Getting rough outside," remarked the lad to the servant, who was +lighting a lamp. + +"A bit 'eavier, sir," replied Gaskin self effacingly. + +Madden held the soup plate in his hand for steadiness, and sipped the +hot, satisfying liquid while the great dock rose and fell. The fact that +he was really in command of the vast iron fabric put the American in a +serious humor. He ate dinner slowly, listening to the heavy clang of the +waves against the iron hull, and to the wind whining and sobbing over +the great metal sides. + +When he had finished his meal, the youth arose with the intention of +going to the sailors' mess house to see about the watches. He had no +sooner stuck his head out of the door, however, than a whisk of spray +leaped at him out of the darkness and drove him inside. He was preparing +to venture out again, when Gaskin opened a locker and brought out an +oilskin. + +"Hit'll 'elp you keep dry, sir," holding up the garment. + +Swathed in its folds, Madden made a new start and walked out on the +heaving, shifting pontoon. + +Outside a renewed noise smote his ears. The air was full of flying spume +that whipped in through the stern of the dock. Malone had planked up +this open gateway to a height of thirty feet, which made it forty-two +feet above the salt water line, but the spray already leaped this +barrier and pelted throughout the dark heavy iron canyon. + +The dock was made in three huge sections, in order that it might be +self-docking when fouled. Now in the darkness, the groaning of these +joints smote the blustering gale in a sort of vast distress. The many +iron stanchions for the shoring of vessels began thrumming a devil's +tattoo against the high iron walls, like a myriad giant fingers. + +In the corners of the bow pontoon, Madden could see the signal lights +heaving and dropping with the motion of the vast fabric. Now and then he +caught a glimmer of the tug's light, and its erratic motions told how +the staunch little vessel fared. + +There was a faint radiance around the shut door of the mess hall, and +Madden walked toward it rather unsteadily, with the spumy brine dashing +into his face. + +A signal lantern was attached to one of the shoring stanchions near the +mess hall, and as Madden moved into its dull glow, another bundled form +entered from the other side. The figure stopped and saluted. + +"If you please, sor," he bawled in Madden's ear, "th' nixt watch is +sick." + +"Sick! The whole watch sick? What do you mean, Mike?" + +The Irishman grinned in the dim light, "Yis, sor, they're in their bunks +wishin' to die. They've niver been in a blow before. It's say-sick they +ar-re." + +Both men were holding to the stanchion. + +"Seasick!" ejaculated Madden. "How about Heck Mulcher and Ben Galton?" +he recalled the names on the list. + +"The whole sit of navvies, sor, ar-re down on their backs, not carin' at +all, at all, whether we float, sink, swim, or go to Davy Jones' locker." + +"Well, Caradoc's next--come with me." + +They took hold of each other and went sliding and slipping along the +iron deck, now skating down hill, now climbing a sharp tilt, shoulders +hunched against the gusty spume, until they reached Smith's little cabin +past the mess hall. Here they paused and rapped on the door. As this +could not have been heard inside for the wind and the waves and the +groaning of the dock, they pushed open the shutter. + +Madden no sooner entered than his nostrils caught a pervading odor of +alcohol. The Englishman's long figure lounged fully dressed on a bunk; a +demijohn was jammed behind his kit bag to keep it from rolling. + +"Smith!" called Madden, "I'll have to ask you to stand watch to-night; +nearly all the navvies are sick." + +Caradoc lifted his head from the bunk and blinked at the two men in the +door. "What?" he asked vacantly. + +"You're to stand watch to-night," Madden raised his voice. + +"Stand watch!" cried the Englishman, sitting up, his face flushing +darkly under the bracket lamp. "You _have_ turned master, haven't +you--bootlicker ordering me to stand watch!" + +"It's your turn on the list!" commanded Madden brusquely, with +ill-concealed disgust that Smith should be maudlin just when needed. + +"My turn--Bah! I'd have been mate myself if I had toadied and flattered +that upstart Malone as you did!" He laughed sarcastically. "Then I could +have had decent dinners, been wearing the mate's sou'wester, been--" + +"Cut it out!" snapped Madden. "Will you do your duty or not?" + +The dock gave a great lurch that flattened both men against the door, +juggled Caradoc in his berth and sent kit bag and demijohn sliding +toward the visitors. + +"Not!" bawled Smith. "I, Caradoc Smith-Wentworth, can't think of going +to stand watch for a gang of siz-seasick navvies an' a t-toady American +Yankee--Not!" he reiterated and laughed in tipsy irony. + +A flush of anger went over Madden. He reached down suddenly and caught +up the demijohn. + +"You--you bet' not drink th-that, y-you little bossy Yankee; it-it'll +m-make _you_ d-drunk." + +"You sot!" trembled Madden. "Whiskey will not be your excuse next time!" +He caught the Irishman's arm, "Come on!" And before Smith realized what +had happened, the two men and his liquor were out of the door and gone. + +Madden slammed the shutter viciously, and the tilt of a wave helped give +it a loud bang. Then he gave the jug a wrathful swing and smashed it +against the nearest stanchion. + +"Smith'll have some sense when he can't get any more," he shouted in +Hogan's ear. Then after a moment, "Is there nobody else to take the +watch?" + +"There's Dashalong, sir," bellowed Mike, "but he stood last night." + +"How about you?" inquired Leonard. + +"All roight." The Celt was about to turn for the high bridge at the +stern, when Madden stopped him. + +"When was your last watch, Mike?" + +"This afternoon, sor." + +"When did Greer stand watch?" + +"He's niver told anywan, sor; I think it must be a saycret." + +"Get to your cabin and turn in," directed Madden. "I'll take it myself +till midnight, eight bells. Then send Greer." + +Hogan saluted in the darkness and turned about for his cabin. Madden +began a careful journey aft toward the wheel. + +He fought his way to the ladder and climbed up into the night, sometimes +clinging like a fly to the underside of the reeling wall, sometimes +going up a steep slant. Gusts of spume and foam whipped him all the way +up. Once on top of the wall, he clung to the inside rail and began +pulling himself carefully around toward the rear bridge. At this height +the full force of the wind almost tore him from his reeling anchorage. +At last he turned onto the bridge and moved toward the binnacle light. + +"You'll find 'er a little 'ard, sir," remarked the steersman as he +turned over the wheel to Madden. "Good night, sir." + +"Good night," returned the American, and he watched the fellow's form +disappear in the darkness. + +Madden gripped the spokes of the wheel and fell to watching the signal +light in the center of the forward bridge and the stern lantern of the +distant tug. These two plunging spots in the black void of night he must +keep aligned. + +The enormous dock leaped and shivered under his feet. Huge waves roared +by, of such vastness that Madden could hear their crests crashing and +thundering high above the level of the bridge. These moving mountains +shook tons of black water into dim, ghostlike spray, and sent it hissing +down into cavernous troughs. The weight of the wind-swept spume flashing +out of darkness through the binnacle light almost took the boy off his +feet. It pounded his oilskin, stung his face. The enormous iron dock +groaned and clanged under the mad bastinado. The long arms of the +shoring stanchions smote the walls in a kind of terrific anvil chorus to +the blaring orchestra of the tempest. The joints of the three huge +pontoons sounded as if they were being rent asunder every moment. One +minute the great structure would rise dizzily, high into the black +blast, a skyscraper flung up on a mountain Madden could look far below +on the lights of the struggling _Vulcan_. Up there the storm yelled +and screamed at every corner and brace of the weltering dock, and +wrenched at the midget helmsman. Then came the sickening drop, down, +down, down, into the profound, and the _Vulcan_ would swing far +above her towering consort. For the instant the storm would be blanketed +by the prodigious waves. Wild, formless ghosts of foam would stretch +wide arms about the falling dock as if they were clasping it into the +lowest crypts of the dead, and the night would be filled with a vast and +dreadful whispering. + +For hours it seemed that every ascent, every descent, must mark the end. +But the storm was so terrific, Madden's sense of personal fear was +blotted out in the tremendous conflict about him. Indeed, there was +something deeply moving, almost gratifying in this elemental rage. Then +he discovered that he was taking a part in it. Mechanically he had been +straining and pulling at the wheel to hold those signal lights in line. +Now he realized that his tiny human force formed a third contender in +this vast battle. As he eased the great dock down the rushing sheer of a +wave so the shock would not break the straining cable, he had won a +point over two violent antagonists. His puny arm, that could raise +perhaps two hundred pounds, was lifted against enemies that could fling +about billions of tons. Without his force, tug and dock would part +company instantly. Each watery mountain that he climbed, each gulf that +he fathomed, was a victory over infinite odds. + +However, if the man worked with subtlety, the sea likewise worked with +subtlety. As the long hours of Madden's watch roared by, one thing was +borne in on the youth: the rudder gradually was becoming harder to +manage. Madden thought this was caused by the rising storm and strained +more rigidly against the wheel. + +Then, in the latter part of his vigil, an odd thing happened. A blast of +spray struck Madden with some slimy thing that whipped about his neck +and chest and almost tore him from the wheel. With convulsive +repugnance, he jerked it loose and held the clammy stuff toward the +binnacle light. He saw it was seaweed. Presently more strands came +beating down on the spume to sting him. + +The youth was crouching in his oilskins for protection, when he was +surprised by a hand laid on his arm. He looked around and saw it was +Deschaillon and the silent Farnol Greer. + +"Eet makes bad weather," remarked the Frenchman, peering at the dark +rolling Alps about the dock. + +"Good thing both of you came," shouted Madden, turning the tiller over +to the men. "It's as stiff as cold molasses--how are the sick ones?" + +The boy saw Deschaillon grin and twirl his pointed mustache in the faint +illumination. "Zay are very numerous," he laughed. But the Gaul had no +sooner swung his weight against the wheel than his grimace vanished. + +"Parbleu! Here, Greer, pull zis wheel with me!" + +The two men caught the spokes and set their weight to it. Greer remained +silent. + +"Zis ees bad!" exclaimed Deschaillon. "Zis wheel will not go around!" + +"What's the matter, do you think?" cried Leonard. + +"Zee gear ees clogged, I think me." + +"Go get a lantern and some men, Hogan--anybody who isn't lifeless. We've +got to do something!" + +The Frenchman obeyed, hurrying off into the darkness. Leonard resumed +his place at the wheel with Greer to aid him. But both men could not +swing the big dock around. The tiller was growing utterly unmanageable. +Nearly every dash of foam brought with it biting bits of seaweed now. +The silent Greer endured the whipping without wincing or speaking. Even +in the midst of their work, Leonard found time to wonder why this fellow +had stolen his medicine chest. + +Presently the two helmsmen could barely turn the wheel. Madden could +feel the jerking of the cable even through the great mass of pitching +iron. Then the wheel clamped viselike. The dock's headlight and the +intermittent glow of the tug teetered, swung out of line, crossed each +other, like dancing fires. In a sort of panic, the two strained at the +solid wheel. A huger wave came roaring by, flung the enormous square +prow high in air. As it fell off with a shock, Madden felt a little +quiver pass over the lumbering pontoons. The dock ceased taking the +upheaved water with her slow, constant, aggressive movement. + +The cable had parted! + +Madden wondered dully what sort of cataclysm had occurred on the little +tug at that tremendous strain. + +Both men still hung to the hand-grips on the useless wheel as the dock +rose and dropped, thundered and groaned. Now and then from the +storm-swept wave tops Madden could catch the glimmer of the +_Vulcan's_ light. This slipped farther and farther into the void, +heaving night, then he saw it no more. + +A sense of vast desolation swept over the American, and he was still +staring into the black pandemonium ahead when Deschaillon, Hogan and a +third man came struggling toward him. + +"You may go back!" he yelled wearily above the uproar. "Go back--there's +nothing to do. The cable's broke--the _Vulcan_ is gone." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AN INTERRUPTED MEETING + + +Convinced that there was nothing else to be done on the big dock, Madden +went to his cabin, threw himself on the bunk, and there tumbled and +tossed through the stormy night, sleeping brokenly and dreaming of the +missing _Vulcan_. + +Finally a bleary dawn whitened his cabin ports and the lad scrambled +into damp clothes, picked up the mate's battered telescope and went on +deck. + +He fully expected to see the _Vulcan_ lying close by, but as he +glanced around in the dull light, an extraordinary scene shunted all +thoughts of the tug from his mind. The wind had lulled, but there still +rolled high a most unusual ocean. As far as he could see moved a long +solemn procession of hills covered with splotches and serpentine lines +of grays, olives, yellows--an ocean in motley. The great waves wove +these sinuous markings up and down, in and out, confusing the eye with +changing mazes. + +Madden went forward and studied the nearer formations under the dock's +prow. This astonishing effect was caused by seaweed. It was the seaweed +spray of this seaweed ocean that had whipped him during the night. + +A glance toward the stern of the dock solved the mystery of the balky +steering gear. The temporary sheathing was choked with the slimy stuff. +Tons of it had beaten over into the dock so that there was a week's work +of cleaning ahead. The whole interior of the pontoons looked gutted; +empty kegs, barrels had gone overboard, boats had been washed away, the +big coal pile was scattered like pebbles and some half of it lost. And +one odd trifle gripped Madden's heart--the fresh paint over which the +crew had toiled so patiently looked old and dingy. + +As he studied the scene, two seasick navvies tottered out on deck to +sniff the clean air. They dismally surveyed the traces of the storm. +Then they moved weakly toward the boy, who was now scrutinizing the +horizon with his glass. + +"See any sign of 'er, sir?" asked Galton saluting. + +Madden took down the binoculars. "Not a trace--feel better?" + +"Some better, sir, but my stomach is still like th' hocean, sir, a bit +unsettled. May I arsk where we are, sir? I never saw such streaky water +before." + +"Sargasso Sea," replied Leonard. + +Galton grunted and stared at the spangled waves. Under its load of +seaweed, the sea was falling rapidly, and presently other seasick +navvies came on deck. A dismal lot they made, pasty and sick and +draggled. + +"You fellows that are able," Madden addressed the group, "get buckets +and shovels and pile up that scattered coal. The exercise will make you +feel better. When the sea is smoother, we'll rig a jury mast on the +forward bridge for a signal." + +A few of the men were still too sick, but most of the crowd shuffled off +to work. Some of the laborers drew off their pea jackets as they went, +for the murky day was filled with a rising humid warmth. + +Coal piling was just getting under way in the heaving dock, when the +door to Caradoc's cabin swung open and the Englishman stepped out. + +A glance at the tall fellow told Madden how he fared. The narrow-set +eyes were inflamed, the long bronze face had lost firmness and seemed +inclined to sag in lines. + +"Smith," called Madden friendlily, "you may help pile coal if you feel +like it." + +"I--that demijohn that you took last night," began the Briton nervously. + +"Yes," Madden became serious. + +"I want it, if you please." + +Madden looked at the unstrung fellow. "Can't get it, Smith; you've had +too much already." + +"Can't get my own property?" demanded Caradoc, raising his voice so all +the men could hear. + +"No," snapped Madden, "you know sailors are not allowed to keep liquor +in their dunnage." + +"That's my demijohn and I'll----" + +"I smashed it, and the pieces washed overboard long ago." + +"Overboard!" cried the big fellow. He turned hot eyes seaward as if +searching the waters, then for the first time noticed the fantastic +ocean around him. He stared at it with a strange expression. + +"What--what is that--where are we, Madden?" he asked with a catch in +his breath. + +The fellow's tremulous condition touched the American. "Tug broke away +last night--we're adrift in the Sargasso." + +A look of relief came over the long face, but he still gazed at the +serpentine patternings. "I--I thought I was seeing--ugh, isn't it +horrible!" + +"You're unstrung, Caradoc; better go lie down," suggested Madden in +considerate tones. + +The mood of the Briton underwent a characteristic quick shift. "Me lie +down?" he rasped. "I'll have my property. You're grabbing authority fast +enough, but you'll learn Englishmen don't submit to impositions. Threw +it overboard!" he laughed with sour incredulity. "Bet you have it in +your cabin." + +The men stopped work, gaping at the insubordination. Madden flushed +under the implication. He stepped forward to smash the long insolent +face and white mustache, but it was plain the Englishman was on the +verge of a nervous breakdown. + +Madden caught himself, stood drawing short breaths through expanded +nostrils. "Go to your bunk, Caradoc, and wait till you're sane," he +ordered in fairly even tones, then turned abruptly, leaving the big +fellow scowling and biting his choppy mustache. + +The navvies turned back to their work, distinctly disappointed; they had +expected a fight. + +Within the next few days the crew dropped into the routine of derelict +life. When the sky cleared and the sea flattened, it left the big dock +amid breathless heat beneath a molten tropical sky. + +As far as the eye could reach, the castaways saw no signs of life, not a +sail, not a smoke, not a gull, not even the ripple of a wave; nothing +but gaudy, motionless markings from one flat horizon to the other, dead +traceries that swiftly became uninteresting, then monotonous, then +disagreeable, then maddening in the aching eyes of the crew. + +As much for the mental health of the men as anything else, Leonard +worked them steadily. The day's work was divided into morning and +evening watches, because during the midday the iron barge reached a +temperature where labor was impossible. During the cooler watches, the +men painted desperately to cover the black expanse of the dock with red +in order to reflect part of the palpitating heat rays. + +Through the idle noon periods, the crew lay about on gunny sacks under +improvised awnings, with a man posted on the forward bridge as lookout. + +The colorful mazes of the Sargasso were as irritating as flowered wall +paper in a sickroom. Even Hogan's and Deschaillon's spirits sagged under +the brilliant sweltering sameness. The navvies moved about half naked, +and burned brown as nuts. The men fought over trifles. Caradoc became a +raw mass of nerves. Once or twice Madden attempted to make things +pleasanter for his former friend, but was repulsed rabidly. + +Near sunset one day, the American was in the mate's cabin trying to work +out his daily reckoning. According to the lad's inexpert calculations, +the dock was drifting southeast at the rate of some six or seven miles +each day. The dock was a prisoner in that vast central swirl between the +North and South Atlantic, that was swinging in stagnating circles when +Columbus sailed for the new world; it lay exactly the same when the +Norsemen beat down the coasts of Europe; it would continue as long as +Africa, Europe, and the Americas deflected ocean currents to produce its +motion. Its vast flaring dial was the clock of the world, marking the +passing ages. In all that stretch of time the Sargasso must have +received strange prey, triremes, caravels, galleons, schooners, men o' +war, derelicts ancient and modern, but certainly never before had the +art of man placed such a colossal and extraordinary fabric within its +swing. + +Some such thoughts as these passed through Madden's mind as he pursued +his reckoning through trigonometric tables. The light fell redder and +dimmer through the ports and he hurried to finish his work before +darkness required a lamp in the steamy cabin. A furnace-like breath, +laden with malodorous ship smells, drifted in upon him. Madden's thin +undershirt clung sweatily to the muscular ridges down his back and +moulded the graceful deltoid at the shoulder. + +Madden pushed back his figures as Gaskin entered with a tray. The cook's +face was scarlet and dripping. + +"How much provisions have we on board, Gaskin?" + +"Another month's supplies, sir--most of the stores was on the +_Vulcan_, sir." Gaskin was dignified even in the heat. + +Leonard turned to his map showing the drift of the dock; she was +swinging farther and farther out of the trade routes every day. The +probability of a rescue steadily decreased. + +"In the future, Gaskin, cut rations one third." + +The cook covertly swabbed his fat jowl. "Yes, sir--are we about to--" he +checked his question. "Yes, sir," he agreed instead. + +"Yes," said Leonard, answering the half question, "it's a very necessary +precaution, and I hope this small reduction will be sufficient." + +"Thankee very much, sir." Gaskin made a little bob and withdrew +ceremoniously. Madden knew that Gaskin would continue to bob and thank +as long as he had strength to do either. + +Reducing the rations was not a sudden impulse with Madden. Ever since +the first expectation of the _Vulcan's_ return had lost its +immediate edge, the American knew that the hope of final rescue depended +upon conserving their food supply. + +The Sargasso Sea is a great oblong whorl in the Atlantic some four +hundred miles wide and fifteen hundred long. Trade routes cut along its +northern boundaries, and skirt its southwestern boundary. The dock might +very well traverse two thousand miles without seeing a sail. At a rate +of six miles a day, it would take eleven months to reach waters in which +a rescue might be hoped. + +In the meantime, the men grew more and more intractable and +insubordinate. That day, when Madden had ordered Heck Mulcher to paint +in a certain place, the navvy had grumbled out a "That's all very well +for you, sir," and the rest was lost in a mutter. + +The uncertain discipline of his men made Madden hesitate to cut the +rations more decidedly. He felt that his command was questioned by the +sailors. + +As the boy gloomily dispatched his own supper, his ear caught a faint +persistent tapping on the iron wall which faced the mate's cabin. At +first he paid no attention to it, assuming it was the contraction of the +iron in the cooling temperature of the oncoming night that made the +popping. But as he ate it was at last borne in that these taps came in +the irregular but orderly sequence of a telegraphic code. + +With this thought in mind, he listened attentively. In his work as +engineer he had had occasion to study up Morse in heliographing. + +It proved one of the most senseless messages the boy had ever +translated: + +"Tiny arm, men plan mu." Then it was repeated, "Tiny arm, men plan mu." +This odd sentence was retapped four or five times and at last ceased. It +was perhaps some beginner learning the code, but who in that crew could +be working out the telegraphic code? Leonard thought over the men, one +by one, but struck nobody who appealed to him as an incipient +telegrapher. + +The American continued thinking over the incident idly, the odd time the +telegrapher had chosen to practice his art, the queer message he had +rapped out, when suddenly the message whirled around in his mind, and he +perceived he had begun listening in the middle of a very alarming +sentence, and had been reading from one middle to the next. The message +was: "Men plan mutiny--Arm!" "Men plan mutiny--Arm!" + +Madden got to his feet with nervous quickness, and stood listening +intently. The question of who sent the message now became of sharp +importance. If the men planned mutiny, he could rely upon the +telegrapher--perhaps. + +There was still enough light in the steamy cabin to discern objects. The +American began rummaging through table drawers, lockers and racks for +some effective weapon, preferably a revolver. + +At that moment he heard footsteps approaching his cabin door. An instant +later the shutter swung open without the formality of a knock and two +dark figures entered. + +"Well?" inquired the American sharply. + +"It's us!" put in two voices at once. + +"What do you want?" + +"It's a bit of a disthurbance, Mister Madden, that's----" + +"Zat Smeeth," put in a pinched French accent excitedly, "he says zare +ees no mate, zat you----" + +"Be quiet, Dashalong; th' gintilman can't understhand yer brogue. Smith +siz ye have no authority by rights; that we should run things as we +plaze; that th' bhoys should have all they want to ate; that we should +have rum with aitch male, sor." + +"And have you two fellows come to get these things?" inquired Leonard in +a hard voice. + +"No, no, no," trilled out Deschaillon. "Eem-possible!" + +"We sthrolled around to till ye, and bide wid ye a bit, and whiniver th' +romp starts, me and Dash here ar-re going to swing partners, eh, Dash?" + +"Oh, beg pardon," apologized Leonard frankly, "but I had just been +warned and I was looking for trouble--" + +"Thot's all r-right, Misther Madden. We ar-re wid ye. I am always for +law and ordher, Misther Madden, aven whin I am most disordherly," + +"That ees true, he ees," nodded Deschaillon. + +"And I always fight on th' wakest side no matther whether it's roight or +wrong." + +"Hogan ees a chevalier, no matter eef he does have to paint," +corroborated the Frenchman. + +"Are all the other boys in with Smith?" + +"In with him, sor? Fr-rum th' way they stick around him ye'd think he +was a long-lost rilitive come back wid a million pounds." + +"I'm glad you fellows are with me, Mike. I was just looking for a gun, +but if you'll stand by me--" + +"Oh, don't pull a pistol, Misther Madden. A man who would pull a gun in +a free-for-all--why he would smash th' fiddles at a dance." + +"As you deed not fight zee day Smeeth said you stole zee whiskey, zee +men--" + +"Think ye'll be aisy," finished Hogan. + +"I've just ordered a change in diet," observed Madden dryly. + +"Oh, thin ye're goin' to give in to th' spalpeens?" + +"No, I've cut rations one-third--and that goes!" There was a finality +about the dictum that reassured his allies. + +"Uh-huh, Dashalong, I towld ye Misther Madden wasn't no----" + +The sentence was interrupted by more feet approaching outside, then a +heavy knocking at the door. The two men automatically moved over to +Madden's side and faced the entrance. + +"Light a lamp, Deschaillon," directed Madden crisply, + +"Yis, two of 'em--I want to watch 'em fall out o' th' tail o' me eye." + +The Frenchman struck a match for his task. Madden invited the men to +enter. + +The whole crew came through the door in an orderly but somewhat +embarrassed manner. A few of the men had on shirts, some undershirts, +others were stripped to the waist, their torsos shining with moisture, +Deschaillon's hand trembled slightly as he lighted two bracket lamps, +Hogan's little eyes sparkled in anticipation. + +"What is it, Galton?" Madden picked out the nearest man bruskly. + +Gallon shuffled his bare feet on the hot boards. "We hev been thinkin'," +he began in a throaty cockney voice, "that since ye was not mate to +begin with----" he looked back over the crowd toward the real leader, +Caradoc, for moral support. + +The men gave Smith an opening toward the American. In the oppressive +heat of the crowded, lamp-lit room everyone was crimson and dripping +except Caradoc, whose face was curiously bloodless beneath its sunburn. + +"If you are spokesman, Smith, what do you want?" demanded Leonard with +rising inflection. + +"We are all workmen together," began Caradoc with an obvious effort, +panting in the heat. "We're working together, living together, roasting +together in this awful furnace. Your authority was only meant for a few +days. Now the _Vulcan_ is gone. Nobody knows for how long. We think +all men should share and share alike." + +"All this demonstration to tell me you want me to eat at the regular +mess?" + +"No," quivered Caradoc, "it's not just eating. We are not pigs. We want +a hand in running things, and we want a portion of rum served at meals, +as every decent ship allows. We want--" + +"Oh, so it's drink, not eating," satirized Madden. + +"Rum's our right as sailormen," mumbled Galton. + +"Rum in this climate?" Ridicule tinctured the American's tone. "Smith, I +believe you once proposed to write an article on Climate and +Alcoholism." He turned to the men. "Do you fellows want to build a fire +inside yourselves when your lungs and hearts are strained to breaking +already?" + +"It cools you off in hot weather," answered a voice in the crowd. + +"Cools nothing! It heats you up." He leaned forward and tapped the table +decisively at each word, "It won't be served, y'understand!" His last +tap was a thump. "I'm boss here--no rum! And I'll tell you right now, +I'm going to cut your rations one-third, too--hear? Now, get out, all +of you--move out o' my cabin!" + +There was a shuffling among the navvies toward the arrowy lad who +confronted them. Deschaillon balanced himself on one leg, French boxing +fashion, ready to kick out with the deadly accuracy of an ostrich. Hogan +gave a brief happy laugh, broken by his jump, the crack of his fist +against some jaw and the stumbling of a man. + +As the fight flamed down the sweating line, Farnol Greer suddenly rushed +through the door. "This is mutiny!" he shouted aloud. "Every man-jack +will hang for it by the ship's articles! I'm for you, Mr. Madden!" and +he made a surprising assault from the rear. + +Madden and Caradoc squared away at each other. The Englishman headed his +men, his long face sinister in the lamplight. But he had hardly taken a +step when an absolute pallor whitened his countenance, he halted, +shaking, gasping, then flung back an arm to Galton. + +"I--I'm fizzled out!" he stammered with twitching lips. "Go +ahead--fight!" + +"You'll hang--you'll hang for it!" bawled Greer, mauling at the men +behind. + +Caradoc crumpled down on the floor. The navvies, with an English dread +of legal authority, hesitated, thinking perhaps Caradoc had deserted +them purposely to clear his own skirts in the mutiny. + +Madden instantly caught up the loose ends of his raveling authority. + +"Lay him on the bunk, Galton!" he commanded. + +Galton obeyed instinctively, half carrying the long sagging form to the +bunk. + +"Hogan!" he thundered at the cyclone on his right, "you and Mulcher stop +that! Stop it, Mulcher!" he turned to some of the men. "Part 'em there! +Stop 'em!" + +Six navvies, three to the man, jumped and grabbed the combatants. + +"Just look, will you?" Madden pointed to Caradoc on the bunk. "You fools +have followed a man half mad with a sunstroke! He has blown his nerves +all to pieces with a rum bottle, and you bunch of mush-heads have +mutinied to give him more rum so he could finish the job!" + +The leaderless insurgents stared at Caradoc's still form, then began +filing out of the cabin. + +"Deschaillon, get that medicine chest out of my bag!" + +The Frenchman moved toward the bag indicated, when Madden remembered. + +"Here, come back, every one of you!" he cried. + +The mutineers flowed in again, entirely subdued now. + +Madden was loosening what few clothes Smith wore. He twisted about, +facing the crew. + +"Some of you fellows stole my medicine chest," he accused boldly. "I +want it! The man who has it bring it here!" + +The men stood very still, looking from one to the other uneasily. + +"Listen, men," repeated Leonard intensely, "I've got to have +it--understand? I don't mind your stealing it. I won't say a word to you +about that, but I'll manhandle the scoundrel that's keeping it now!" + +There was a growled chorus of protests. Madden quivered at his impotence +to put his hand on the thief in the crowd. + +One of the navvies caught the expression on Madden's face, and blurted, +"If I 'ad it, I'd bring it back--'onest!" + +Leonard suddenly recalled his suspicions. He looked at Farnol Greer, +whose timely shouting and attack had practically quelled the rising. For +a moment Madden's old friendship for Smith and his new gratitude for +this silent unknown youth struggled, then he said: + +"Greer, do you know anything about that chest?" + +A look of blank surprise, then indignation went over Greer's heavy +serious face, then he said bitingly: + +"You sure stand by your pal, all right," and moved out of the cabin +without another word. + +Caradoc lay dry and burning on the hot bunk, his big hands pressed to +his forehead, eyes clenched shut. + +"I don't know what to do!" cried Madden miserably. "Hogan, Deschaillon, +for God's sake, if you know anything about that medicine chest, tell +me--I'm not accusing anybody!" + +"Sure, sure," cried Hogan sympathetically, "Oi'm sorry Oi ain't got it. +If Oi only had me chance again I'd stole it long ago!" + +"I'm sorree, but I never stole eet either, Meester Madden." + +"If I only had bromide!" growled the American, watching Smith's broad +hairy chest lift and drop in short breaths. + +The Englishman opened his hot red eyes. "What's that to you, Madden?" he +asked thickly. The choppy white mustache pulled down in a sneer. "I +might as well die now--I'm nothing but a remittance man. A remittance +man," he repeated the term with mingled self contempt and bravado. "My +people have shipped me--flung me away, broken, no use," he flung out a +long hot hand at Madden. "Why do you try to pick up the pieces?" He +laughed thickly, which sent wild pains through his head and stopped him +suddenly. + +Madden stared penetratingly at this outbreak. + +"Pour water over him, Deschaillon, Hogan," commanded the American +briefly. + +As his two helpers hurried out after buckets, Leonard came close to the +sufferer. + +"Where is it?" he asked shortly. + +"Where--what?" + +Madden stooped over him. "Where's that medicine chest? What did you do +with it? You wouldn't have started that tirade unless you had it." + +"You Americans--very keen," panted Caradoc in the midst of his rackings. +"Think you're d-deuced smart--it's in my bag's lining--there was some +alcohol in it, so I took it--let it go--don't do anything--for--me." + +Deschaillon entered with a bucket of seawater. They stretched the sick +man on the floor, and a moment later, the Englishman shuddered under the +deluge. + +"This ought to be an ice pack," observed Madden, then: "I believe I +remember laying that medicine case in my old cabin; I'll see," and he +walked out of the mate's room into the darkness. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +SAIL HO! + + +Caradoc lay stretched out in a deck chair, on top of the broad wall of +the dock, a cool dawn breeze playing over him. He looked across the +motley sea toward an opalescent sky reddening in the east. + +"No," replied Madden without great interest, from his seat on the rail, +"I've no idea what you mean by a 'remittance man.'" + +The Englishman's eyes strayed wearily from the limpid dawn to the tiny +image of a lion couchant on a small blue enameled shield which he used +as a watch fob. + +"Among the English--" He paused and began again: "Among a certain class +of English families," he proceeded in an impersonal tone, "when a member +goes hopelessly astray, that member is sent abroad to travel +indefinitely. Remittances are forwarded to him from place to place, +wherever he wishes to go, but--" there was a scarcely noticeable +pause--"he can't come back to England any more." + +"O-o-h!" dragged out Madden in a low voice, comprehending the man before +him for the first time. + +"So they are called remittance men--always remitted to." Caradoc's long +fever-worn face, that was filling out in convalescence, colored +momentarily. + +"So that's what you were," said the American after a pause; "a +remittance man, simply drifting over the face of the earth, supported by +your family, boozing your life away, and always longing to see England +again?" + +"You can put things so raw, Madden," responded Caradoc with a ghost of a +smile. "I _am_, not _were_." + +"_Were_," insisted the American quickly. "Before your collapse you +were a confirmed alcoholic, but you are slightly different now. Your +eight days of fever, when Hogan and I had to hold you in bed, must have +burned you out, cleaned up your whole system. You are nearer normal now +than you were. You have a fresh start. It's up to you what you do with +it." + +The Englishman looked at his friend with a sort of slow surprise on his +face. "I hadn't noticed it, but I don't believe I do crave drink as +keenly." + +"No, sickness is often not so bad a thing as folks think. It is nature's +way of putting us right. Sometimes," he added thoughtfully, "we crumple +up in the process, but we can hardly blame the old lady for that." + +"You're an odd fellow, Madden," laughed Caradoc, getting slowly out of +his chair and stretching his arms. "Well, for some reason or other, I +feel fine this morning--let's take a constitutional around the dock." + +The young men walked off, side by side, and began the circuit of the +dock's quarter-mile outline. The breeze was such a rarity in the +becalmed region that the two paused now and then to take long grateful +breaths, and to watch the little wind waves ripple the glassy Sargasso +lanes. + +As they walked, navvies came out with buckets brushes and set to work +painting the maze of iron stanchions that lined the long interior of the +dock. + +"I'm afraid I'll have to stop that painting," remarked Leonard after +watching them a moment. + +"They'll be very glad of it--but why?" + +"It consumes too much energy. The men can live on less if they quit +work." + +"Oh, I see." + +"I think I shall have to cut their food down to half rations. We've been +adrift nearly sixteen days now and not a smoke plume from the +_Vulcan_. She has lost us--if she didn't founder." + +"Any chance of meeting some other vessel?" + +"Here in the ocean's graveyard?" + +"Are we far in?" inquired Smith with rising concern. + +"Close to three hundred miles, and getting deeper every day." + +The two walked on mechanically, with the precise step of those who seek +exercise. The rim of the sun cut the edge of the ocean and a long trail +of light made the east difficult for their eyes. + +"Any danger of starving?" questioned Caradoc, staring moth-like at the +blinding disc of flame. + +"Perhaps not," meditated Madden. "I've been thinking about it. As a last +resort this seaweed is edible, at any rate certain species of it. The +Chinese and Japanese eat it, but that isn't much of a recommendation to +a European. Then the water is full of fish that come to nibble at the +stuff." + +Caradoc was obviously inattentive to this consoling information. "Yes," +he murmured politely, "Japanese do nibble at the fish." + +Madden looked around at his abstracted friend, who was still staring +into the molten sunrise. + +"When the Japanese come to nibble at the fish, we might get some food +from them," suggested Madden with American delight in the ridiculous. + +"Perhaps so." + +"And fans, parasols, and little ivory curios--souvenirs of the Sargasso, +when we roll up the dock and take it home." + +Smith nodded soberly, still gazing. + +"What are you looking at, Caradoc?" laughed the American. + +"I say, Madden, just look at that sun, will you? I thought I saw a +little black fleck against it straightaway to the east right down on the +horizon." + +"You're injuring your sight, that's all," the American was still +smiling. "You know black specks will dance before your eyes if you stare +at the sun too long." + +"But this was shaped like a sail," persisted Smith, staring again. + +"Illusion," diagnosed Madden promptly, but his eyes followed Caradoc's +eastward nevertheless. + +As far as his sight could reach up the golden path, he saw the black +markings of seaweed; then his vision became lost in a mist of +illumination. However, in this region, he could distinguish things dimly +and in flashes. + +Presently, in one of these clear instants, he saw flashed, like the +single film of a moving picture, the tiny black silhouette of a ship's +sail against the dazzling east. Next moment it was lost in light. + +"I told you!" cried Caradoc, getting his friend's expression. "It's +there! We've both seen it! A ship, Madden!" + +Then he turned with more strength than Madden thought was in him. "Sail +ho, men!" he sang out. "A sail!" + +"Come up, fellows, and take a look!" chimed in Madden just as eagerly. +"We believe we see a sail!" + +The crew dropped work at once, and came climbing the ladder up the deep +side of the canyon like a string of monkeys; then they came running +across the red decking. + +"Where?" "Wot direction?" "Where ees eet?" came a chorus of inquiries. + +The two were pointing and soon the whole crew was lined up staring into +the brilliance. Their fresh eyes caught the glimpse immediately and held +it long enough to make sure. + +"A sail!" "There she is!" "Oi see her!" bellowed half a dozen voices. + +The whole crew fell into tense, happy confusion, laughing, staring, +yelling, speculating, slapping backs. + +"Will she see us?" cried someone. + +"Do ye think she'd overlook the whole west half o' th' sea, Galton?" + +"She weel run against us eef she cooms thees way." + +"But she might not know we are in distress?" + +"Disthress, is it ye're sayin'? We're not in disthress, ye loon. This is +th' happiest day o' me loife." + +Leonard turned to the Irishman. "Hogan, go dip that flag on the jury +mast--wiggle it up and down--let 'em know something is wrong--make 'em +think we have the rickets if nothing else." + +Two men ran off with Hogan to the forward bridge; the others stared, +waved, shouted and let their excitement bubble down. + +"But I don't understand a sailing vessel in these waters," speculated +Leonard. + +"Maybe it's a derelick?" surmised Galton. "I've 'card as 'ow this was a +great place for derelicks." + +"'Ow could she be a derelick," argued Mulcher, "w'en she 'as so much +canvas aloft? You run up on derelicks an' git sunk, ever' cove knows +that." + +"I carn't think of hall these things at once!" retorted Galton. + +"Perhaps she ees the _Vulcan_ under sail with deesabled engines?" +suggested Deschaillon. + +This explanation was accepted unanimously and joy broke out afresh. + +"Why sure, th' _Vulcan_, th' good old _Vulcan_! Now, lads, +let's give three cheers and maybe it'll reach 'er!" + +Madden left the men trying to reach her with their bellows and went +below after the mate's binoculars. When he returned the sun had swung up +above the rim of the ocean and the sail was plainly discernible. He +leveled his glasses and his eyes went searching among the distant +markings of seaweed, until it finally rested on the sail. The vessel was +hull down. There was nothing to see except a little canvas stretched +neatly aloft and ship-shape masts and spars. He observed her attentively +for some time. She seemed to be making very little headway. All in all, +Madden made little of the craft, so he handed the glass to Smith. The +Englishman was likewise puzzled, and the binoculars went down the line +of curious men. + +There was something in the way the youth named Farnol Greer handled the +instrument that caused Madden to ask: + +"What do you make out, Greer?" + +"She is lying to, sir. She's backing her tops'ls flat against the +breeze, and her mains'l's reefed and drawing with it." + +"Lying to!" cried three or four voices. "W'ot does she mean by that? +Looks as if she'd be bloomin' glad to get out o' such a bally place as +this!" + +"Let me have another look." Madden resumed the binoculars. + +Now that Madden's attention was called to this unusual disposition of +the sails, he could make out their position for himself. + +This started another tide of speculation buzzing among the castaways. +Was the _Vulcan_ crippled? Had she run short of coal? But why +should she voluntarily lay-to in the very sight of her quarry? + +"They're fishin'," surmised Deschaillon, "off in th' boats fishin'; +they're weethout food also." + +This wild surmise was the only reasonable hypothesis that had been +struck on. Another group of men rushed for the jury mast to show the +fishermen that their presence was desired. At any rate the faint breeze +was very slowly bringing the two vessels together. + +If the men had been heretofore anxious that the cool breeze continue, +now their anxiety was redoubled. At any moment it might die away and +leave the _Vulcan_ stranded beyond communication. In painful +uncertainty, they watched the tug drag her hull slowly into sight, then +slowly eat her way down the long mazy lanes of the Sargasso. + +Then, when she was well in view, Farnol Greer said: + +"She is not the _Vulcan_, sir." + +By this time all the men had their brown faces wrinkled up against the +glare of the sunshine. Now they redoubled their gaze on the distant +vessel. + +"Faith, and sure enough she isn't!" cried Hogan. + +Greer was right; the strange vessel was not the tug. She had a funnel +amidship and two masts, but there her resemblance to the _Vulcan_ +ceased. + +The crew stared, talked, speculated, until the sun swung up like a +white-hot metal ball in the sky, and the quivering heat drove them below +under the awnings. From here they could still view the stranger, but not +to so good advantage. The breeze, by good fortune lasted till deep in +the morning, but finally dropped down in the blanketing heat, with the +unknown craft a good three miles distant. + +The dock's crew could make out no sign of life as they strained their +eyes through the glare of tropical brilliance. The high-lights of the +schooner's reversed topsails and the luminous shadows of her mainsail +stood out vividly against the hot copper sky. The multi-colored markings +of the ocean and the sharp line of the horizon finished a very picture +of pitiless heat. + +The men stood beneath the awning, legs apart, arms held away from +bodies, and stared from under dripping brows for some signs of +recognition from the stranger. + +"'Asn't she got up a single rag to show us she sees us?" puffed Galton, +swiping his hand across his forehead and flinging drops on the iron +deck, where they evaporated the moment they hit. + +"Don't see none," replied the navvy who possessed the binoculars at that +moment. + +"'Ave they any boats?" + +"One cleated down for'ard, one slung on the midship davits, and I think +I make hout one on t'other side past the booby hatch." + +"And not a soul on deck?" + +"Not unless they're settin' on th' fur side o' th' superstructure." + +"Wot would they want to be settin' in th' sun for?" demanded Galton +brusquely. + +"'Ow do I know? If they was Eth'opians, wouldn't they set in th' sun?" + +"This is as clost as we'll ever git," surmised another voice. "The night +breeze'll blow 'er back where she come from." + +"Well, w'ere's that?" demanded Mulcher savagely. + +"Why, Eth'opia, I reckon, if she's got a crew of Eth'opians settin' on +t'other side of 'er superstructure." + +"They ain't a man-jack aboard; and you know it," snarled Galton, "or +'e'd be poppin' 'is eyes hout at such a 'orrible big sight as we must +be." + +"Anyway, I'll bet she blows back w'ere she come from, to-night," +persisted the advocate of this theory. + +The men caviled on at each other endlessly, disputing, denying, +upbraiding, and once in a while coming to blows. + +In order to keep any sort of discipline, Leonard and Caradoc kept to +themselves under a separate awning, for all sea-faring experience has +shown that a separation of officers and men is necessary for the +management of sailors. + +However, Madden heard most of the arguments that went on under the men's +canvas, and he became convinced that the sailor was right; the evening +breeze would carry the schooner away from the dock. He measured the long +distance through the sea lanes from dock to schooner with his eyes. + +"Caradoc," he said to his friend, "if we ever reach that vessel now's +our time." + +"How do you hope to do it?" + +For answer Madden turned to the men. "Mulcher, bring me a life buoy, +will you?" + +Mulcher arose and started on his errand. + +Caradoc stared. "You don't intend to _swim_ that distance--through +this heat?" + +"There's a boat over there, and provisions, perhaps." + +"And the crew?" + +"It is quite possible that they sleep through the day which is utterly +becalmed and make some little headway at night with the slight evening +and morning breezes--it would be a task for a sailing vessel to work +herself out of the Sargasso." + +"Why I never thought of that. I suppose it is possible." + +Mulcher was returning with a buoy. The crew came forward behind the +navvy, on the _qui vive_ over this new undertaking. + +"Faith, and hadn't ye betther sind one o' th' min, sir," suggested +Hogan, "an if he drowns, sir, Oi would take it to be a sign that it's a +dangerous swim." + +"An' the sharks, Meester Madden," warned Deschaillon. + +As Madden kicked off his clothes, he observed Caradoc stripping +likewise. Then Farnol Greer came running down the deck with another buoy +and a big clasp knife. + +The American looked at these fellows. "Caradoc, you can't possibly hold +out that distance; you're weak." + +"I've done ten miles in--at home." + +Greer said nothing, but rapidly undressed. + +All three kept on their hats and undershirts as protection against +sunburn. As Madden walked from the awning through the stinging sun rays, +crimping up his naked feet from the blistering deck, Galton called to +him. + +"If we git a lot of grub, sir, couldn't it be hextra, and carn't we 'ave +a spread to-night, sir?" + +"Something like that," agreed Madden, tossing his buoy into the water. +The two other swimmers followed example, then all three dived off the +twelve foot pontoon toward their floats. They came up shaking the water +from ears and eyes. Madden was immersed in tepid water. His men were +cheering stolidly. The schooner looked very, very far away now that he +was at the surface of the water. Between him and his goal streaked mazes +of sargassum. It suddenly struck the American that he might have trouble +getting through those barriers. + +However, the three swimmers were progressing boldly. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE CUL DE SAC + + +Madden thrust head and shoulders into his float, a round canvas-covered +hoop of cork, and set off at an easy stroke. Now that he was flat on the +water, he could no longer see the lanes of seaweed, and he would be +forced to depend entirely upon signals from the dock. + +Alongside Madden came Greer, and after them Caradoc. Like all Americans, +Leonard gradually increased his energy, and forged ahead at a rate +considerably faster than that required for long distance swimming. Once +or twice Caradoc warned the swimmers to go more slowly, and at each +monition Madden slowed up a trifle, but within a few minutes he would +again speed up unconsciously. + +The three swimmers could form little idea of the rate they were making +in the lifeless sea. At the end of half an hour, when Leonard looked +back at Hogan on the wall for signals, the dock still loomed above him, +a vast glare of red in the dazzling sunshine. It seemed impossible to +get away from it; the featureless red flare followed him as a mountain +peak seems to follow a traveler. + +The sun beat oppressively on his head and blistered his shoulders +through his net undershirt. The warm water soaked the energy out of +limbs and arms. He changed from breast to over-arm stroke, then he +shifted to the crawl and trudgen stroke. + +"Perhaps we'd better rest awhile, sir," suggested Greer, who came +puffing close behind. + +"Beastly hot, this sun," Leonard ducked head and shoulders under water +for relief. His hat floated off and he grudged the slight effort to +retrieve it. + +"How far are we?" + +"Dock looks as close as ever--where's Smith?" + +Greer nodded toward a small head and shoulders bobbing behind a little +white buoy. + +At that moment, they heard the Englishman's voice calling, "To the +right!" + +The boys turned and struck out ahead once more. They regretted having to +leave the straight line. As far as they could see there was no algae in +sight, the water was one glassy blue. And the mysterious schooner, with +its lights and shadows exaggerated in the tropical glare, seemed to the +tired swimmers to be as remote as ever. + +As Madden pressed on and on, changing strokes after the fashion of +tiring swimmers, the constant beat of the sun made his eyeballs ache; +the ocean felt like a Turkish bath; the muscles in his shoulders, back +and legs grew numb, with an occasional cramping twinge. And what +irritated him as much as anything else was the fact that he was swimming +toward the right quarter of the schooner, throwing away his energy. + +Just then Caradoc gave a distant call, "To the left." + +With deep relief, Madden rounded back toward his goal. He had swung +about some unseen cape of algae. He looked back toward the dock. Hogan, +a very tiny figure, held his flag straight up; that meant "dead ahead." + +In relief Madden turned over on his back, laid his hat across his face, +then with hands resting on chest, he began sculling along with knees and +feet. + +He did not know how long he swam in this fashion. Queer ideas drifted +through the lad's mind. He recalled standing on the bridge of the dock +as it went out of the Thames and wondering what would happen. He had +never anticipated anything like this. It seemed that he had been +swimming for days and weeks. He reminded himself of those little kicking +toys that never get anywhere. He felt as if he were a June bug buzzing +helplessly at the end of a string. He kicked, kicked, kicked under the +broiling sun, in the hot water. The sweaty smell of his hat band +disgusted his nostrils. The crown of his hat seemed to coop the heat +over his face, sweat seeped into his closed eyelids and stung his eyes. +He gave his head a little shake. The buoy slipped out and he bobbed +under the tepid water head and ears. + +This jerked him out of his dreamy state. He whirled over, struck to the +surface, spat out brine, blinked his eyes. Somebody was shouting +something in an urgent voice. The noise buzzed in his waterlogged ears. + +"Hey, hello! What is it?" he cried, giving his head a shake and putting +on his hat. + +"School of sharks!" shouted Greer, coming toward his leader at a foamy +speed. + +"School of sharks!" echoed Madden with a sharp thrill. "Where? Which +way?" + +"Must be toward the dock, sir!" panted Greer driving up. + +"Where's Caradoc?" + +"Yonder." He pointed toward a distant twinkle in the water. + +"We must get together--yell to him, warn him!" + +The two lads began a strenuous chorus that further used up their +exhausted strength. Caradoc responded by a wave of his hand. Then when +he understood "sharks" he gathered speed in their direction. + +By this time the dock seemed as far away as the schooner, and was in +reality probably farther. On the wall of the dock, they could see +Hogan's microscopic figure apparently having a fit, against the coppery +sky. No doubt from his height he could make out the monsters. Perhaps +Hogan could see the great fish shooting along with sinister, +exertionless ease toward these clumsy adventurers--a school of trout +striking at three awkward beetles. + +"Hey, Caradoc! Caradoc!" screamed Madden. "Straight for the schooner!" +The American stared around with tense nerves for the little swishes on +the surface that betray the attack of a shark. + +From something near middle distance, the Englishman raised a hand toward +his comrades and motioned them forward. + +"Go on! Go on!" he gasped in a tired voice. "I'll catch you!" + +Indeed, there was little to be gained from waiting. Caradoc moved toward +his friends with a long overhand stroke that gave him the queer +appearance of some huge water bug striding along. Madden and Greer +propelled themselves slowly toward the schooner, waiting for their +friend to close up. They could not keep their eyes off the Englishman. +Every moment they expected to see him jerked under, or they expected to +see a huge shadowy form strike at themselves through the clear green +water. + +Once Madden looked at the dock. Hogan on the rim of the red flaring wall +was flinging out all kinds of despairing gestures. + +By this time Caradoc was in hailing distance. + +"Did you say sharks?" he called out in a dull voice. + +"Yes, sharks!" + +"Where a way?" + +"Don't know!" + +At that moment a trickling thrill went through the American. A long dark +motionless shadow lay in the water straight in front of him. He stopped +swimming suddenly. + +"Stop, Greer! Straight ahead!" he warned in a low tone, easing himself +carefully up on his buoy for a better look. + +By this time the swimmers were nearly together and all three stared +ahead with painful intentness. + +"That dark thing?" inquired Greer in an undertone, + +"Yes, we ought to have a knife apiece." + +"I never saw a shark lying still," panted Caradoc straining his eyes. + +"Say, that's a little streak of seaweed," decided Farnol, beginning to +move toward it. + +Then all three perceived it was merely seaweed. The shark-like illusion +disappeared completely the moment someone doubted it. + +"Who cried out sharks anyway?" demanded Smith of Madden. + +"Greer there warned me--he yelled 'school of sharks.'" + +"Where did you see them?" inquired Caradoc of Farnol. + +"You shouted school of sharks to me yourself," defended Greer. + +"I! I!" puffed Caradoc, whose spurt had blown him badly. "I said nothing +about sharks!" + +"Well, what did you say?" demanded Greer. + +Caradoc thought back fretfully. "I said we were running into a _cul de +sac_." + +"A cool de sock!" repeated Greer with irritation. "What did you want to +say 'cool de sock' for?" + +"I was calling to a gentleman," panted Smith with an edge of temper in +his tone, "and here you've swung us clear off our bearings because you +didn't know a common French phrase----" + +"French! I'm no Frenchman! Why don't you talk English!" + +The two tired, worried, overheated men were rapidly brewing a quarrel, +when Madden interrupted. + +"Look how close we are to that schooner! If somebody would raise another +shark alarm, we'd land plump on her decks." + +"Yes, but this Zulu here has run us straight into a loop of seaweed +it'll take two hours' swimming to get out of--_cul de sac_, school +of sharks! Why the two phrases scarcely resemble each other!" + +Madden turned longing eyes toward the motionless schooner that was not +more than three-quarters of a mile distant. "Say, it's too bad to turn +around and swim away from that vessel!" he lamented wearily, "and this +sun is fierce!" + +"I say let's try going through!" encouraged Greer. + +"It'll be--difficult," warned Caradoc. + +"Won't swimming clear around the earth be difficult?" demanded Greer +hotly. + +"Proceed," agreed Caradoc tersely. "It's all one to me." + +The boys adjusted their floats and once more began their weary labor, +all three disgruntled at the false alarm. As they worked their way +forward, clumps of seaweed, similar to the first they had seen, +thickened in their path. After a long swim in and out, they reached a +point where these floating masses coalesced into an island, or a +continent, that swung far back toward the barge in the segment of a +great semicircle. Fortunately there were still open channels in this +main field, and one of them led toward the schooner. They struck out up +this estuary, which presently became so narrow that they were forced to +travel single file. Occasionally their kicking feet would strike slimy +filaments in the water, but for a while the channel cheered the +swimmers, for they could now see they were making progress toward the +ship. + +Ten minutes later, however, they reached the end, and an inexorable +continent of slime lay between them and their goal. Madden paused in the +last yard of clear water, hung to his buoy, his big biceps flattened on +the canvas cover and slowly blistering in the sun. + +"All right, boys, close up," he panted; "let's stay in helping distance +of each other." + +"Shall we try to take our buoys through, sir?" inquired Greer. + +"We'll start with them." + +"Don't try to use your legs in the weed," warned Caradoc. "Don't kick; +you'll get tangled." + +"We'll experiment and work through the best way we can. If it turns out +too bad, we can turn back, that's one consolation." + +Just then, under Madden's astonished eyes, a queer thing happened. The +long open tongue of the sea which they had just entered, silently closed +up. It seemed to close very slowly, and yet it was accomplished in an +amazingly brief time. Some dull movement in the Sargasso current had +blocked the adventurers with sinister precision. Madden felt the hot +slimy mass close softly around him. + +It was now as easy to go forward as to return. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +TRAPPED + + +There was something so sinister in this silent closing of all avenue of +retreat that for a moment Madden was dismayed, then he struck out toward +the schooner with a certain bold weariness. + +As an experiment he threw his buoy ahead of him by a snap of wrist and +forearm, then tried to swim to it. The long yielding growth slid under +and around him, but it took all the dash out of his stroke. He pawed his +way forward with his arms, legs stretched out idle. A thousand wet +sticky fingers dragged their length over his body, retarding, clogging, +holding him. It left him stranded like a bug in gelatine. His flesh +crawled at this slimy swimming, he shrank from it, and it sapped his +heart and strength. + +The only stroke possible was the overarm, and his hands fell with a +gummy plop instead of the heartsome splash of open water. By the time he +reached his buoy and threw it again, he regretted miserably that he had +not swum the clean water route if it were five miles farther. + +By the time he had thrown his buoy twice, he could hardly advance it a +yard beyond his reach; finally it simply slushed along the surface. The +sun seemed much hotter in this congestion than in the open sea. + +Behind him came his two men in a queer snakelike procession of plopping +buoys and wriggling bodies. Ahead of them the seaweed stretched, +apparently all the way to the schooner. As they worked their way through +the scum of many seas, the noon sun broiled their backs into thin water +blisters, and stewed saline odors out of the clammy life about them. + +Once Madden's hand struck a yellowish line of algae and a score or two +of little jelly-like insects writhed into the grass below. One of these +things touched the swimmer's arm and gave the boy a stinging sensation. +He knocked it off desperately and pushed on. + +Presently his shoulder muscles ached and burned so keenly, he could no +longer continue the overarm. Then he took the buoy in both hands, held +it straight out, thrust it edge down into the oozy substance, used it as +a kind of anchor and drew it to him. At first this technique seemed to +advance him somewhat, but presently he appeared merely to disturb the +viscous mass without going forward. He grew acutely discouraged; his +back, shoulders, cramped, ached and burned. The brilliantly lighted +schooner seemed to regress as he progressed. The sun was like an auger +boring into the back of his head. His mind began to wander again, and a +sudden fear came on him lest he should go insane out in this horrible +slime. + +A fiery burning on his right foot jerked him back out of his half +delirium, and he knew that an insect of the same kind he had seen a few +minutes before had stung him. He kicked it off convulsively, but the +thrust of his foot brought a wash of new stings. + +All of a sudden, his patience, endurance, pluck seemed to give out. This +new torture made him as unreasonably frantic as a baby. He kicked +furiously. He scraped the toe nails of one foot against the flesh of the +other leg. As he did so the animalculae settled on the abraded skin, +like streaks of melted steel. The boy doubled up, like a grub worm +covered with ants, fighting, scraping, twisting, squirming. He writhed, +beat, scratched, this great hundred and sixty pound animal fighting an +enemy that would weigh about twenty to the gram. + +He heard a shout from Caradoc, a question from Greer, then his insane +struggles carried him under the surface of the clammy seaweed. The +seaweed, infested with stinging insects, closed over his form like a +wave of fire. + +Only lack of breath stopped Leonard's mad struggles. Bursting lungs and +the mere necessity to live at last made him disregard the attacks of +these wasps of the Sargasso. He struck out for the surface again like a +diver, reaching up arms, spreading legs with a stroke and a kick. But +the gelatinous stuff simply quivered with his struggles and held him +firm. He stuck like a fly in mucilage. + +The sliminess of the element utterly destroyed the mechanics of +swimming. A forward stroke in pure water displaces portions of the water +and the return stroke sends the body forward. In this mass the forward +stroke merely compressed the weed in front of the arm, and left a cavity +through which the return stroke received no power. + +Madden dared not open his eyes. In fiery blackness he kicked and struck +in useless froglike movements. His heart was beating like a trip-hammer +in his ears. Streaks of red fire played against the blackness of his +eyelids. He knew that in a few more seconds his straining lungs would +gulp in the stinging ooze, he knew his will could not prevent his +drawing in some sort of breath. + +He clung desperately to the control of his diaphragm, as a falling man +clings to a ledge of rock. His great chest muscles gave convulsive +jerks. His control was going, going. + +Suddenly a human hand gripped his wrist. He was jerked upwards, perhaps +a foot. A moment later he was gulping in great lungfuls of air. + +He had been suffocating ten or twelve inches beneath that repulsive +slime, as securely captured as if he had been a thousand feet deep. + +It had taken Greer and Smith that length of time to wriggle a yard or +two and fish him out. + +"Steady! Steady!" said Caradoc in a lifeless voice. "Steady there, +Madden! Hold him tightly, Greer!" + +Greer made some sort of groaning reply, when Caradoc snarled, "Let 'em +sting, you scullion! What if they do kill you! Is there any better way +to die?" + +Madden felt a great pushing and jostling at his body. He raked the +seaweed from his face and opened his eyes. The Englishman was shoving +fiercely at the American's shoulder, Greer, ahead, pulling at an elbow. +The burning insects had swarmed on both his rescuers. Caradoc's +sun-baked face had a yellowish, bloodless hue, his lean jaws clenched +under his choppy white mustache. In the midst of his burning pain he +held his legs rigid, pushed Leonard with one hand and pawed furiously +through the viscid tangle with the other. + +The constancy of his companions braced Madden like a dash of ice water. +His own weakness had brought about this dangerous plight. The American +caught up his buoy, and between great gasps of the blessed air, rapped +out that he could go by himself, and began making his own way forward. + +So the three worked themselves over the oozy bed of fire. The +Englishman's arms shot into the slime with the regularity of pistons. He +appeared to make no haste, yet he made remarkable speed. Only his +distended nostrils, pain-tightened mouth, grim eyes, showed that he was +in torture. + +Even amid his own suffering Leonard felt a thrill of admiration for +Smith's endurance and working power. He even found time to wonder dimly +if Smith's people, that rich, cold, proud family, if they could see +their remittance man now, would not stoop to claim him as a kinsman. + +All at once the poignant and disgusting attack of the insects ceased. A +flood of ecstatic relief swept over the adventurers. Without a word, all +three quit squirming, caught their floats under their armpits and swung +down in a limp luxurious rest. + +Then they saw a marvelous thing had happened. The same slow swirl of the +Sargasso current that had closed up their avenue on the west side, had +opened another on the east. Their way toward the schooner lay +unobstructed. + +The clean delightful seawater soothed the pain of their stinging flesh. + +"We'll be there in fifteen minutes," murmured Leonard weakly. + +"When you're ready, say so," said Greer with a frown still lingering on +his heavy face. + +At that moment Madden heard a groan from Caradoc. + +"What's the matter?" aspirated the American. + +"Nothing--weak--don't bother." He closed his eyes, blew out his breath +like a sick man. His face was bloodlessly sallow, and Madden could see +his grip slipping on the canvas buoy. + +"You're all in!" gasped Madden in exhausted staccato, "I knew you +oughtn't to--aren't you about to faint again?" + +The Englishman shook his head slightly. "Don't worry," he murmured, then +his eyes closed, his hands slipped loose. + +With brusque directness, Madden caught the shock of tawny hair, jammed +Caradoc's chin against the buoy and held him tight with little exertion +for himself. Smith swung out as awkwardly as a turkey on a chopping +block. The water was level with his lips, but his nose did not go under. + +"Petered at last," grunted Madden, staring at the corpselike face in +dull speculation. "How in the world are we going to get him out of +here?" + +"I guess we can tow him out, sir," growled Greer with dull indifference. +"Mighty puny chap--always flopping over when he's in a tight place." + +"Come here, stick his arms through our buoys, put his own under his +head!" + +The plan was quickly carried out and Smith's unconscious form was placed +beyond immediate danger. + +The two youths took up their long swim once more. As they moved down the +opening, they could see what slow progress they were making. Presently +Madden explained in a low whispering tone: + +"His heart's bad... can't stand much... poisoned with alcohol." + +Another pause filled with slow weary swimming, then Greer said: + +"Said I was no gentleman... didn't know a French word... I keep sober." + +Madden made no defense to this reflection on the unconscious Englishman, +but after a while he said: + +"We ought to overlook lots in him, Greer--unfortunate fellow... there's +good in him, Greer... bad too." + +"I've got no call to please you," growled the sailor with astonishing +frankness. + +"Then why did you come with us?" inquired Madden amazed. + +"Wanted to see the schooner." + +"And what have _I_ done to _you_?" + +"Called me a thief!" the sailor elevated his dull tone. "After I +telegraphed ye about th' men... fought for ye... called me a thief!" + +"Was that you tapping on the dock?" + +Greer nodded resentfully. "And ye insulted me for it." + +"I'm sorry... I was almost wild that night. I'll apologize... before the +crew." + +"I don't care nothing about that dull English crew." This strange +fellow's tone carried in it an illiterate man's undying resentment. + +"Since you feel that way," panted Madden at last, "I think I ought to +tell you--he took the medicine chest," Leonard nodded at the finely +carved motionless face that lay on the float before them. + +"Him!" gasped Greer. + +Leonard nodded. "He wanted the alcohol in it." + +"And you call him a _gentleman_?" + +Leonard nodded again. "Somehow I still call him a gentleman. He's hurt, +sick, bruised, but he's a gentleman." + +"Well I don't!" + +At that moment, the buoy under Caradoc's head bumped into a wooden wall +and upset their swimming arrangements. + +They were under the overhang of the mysterious schooner. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE MYSTERY SHIP + + +Waves from the exhausted swimmers sent bright streaks of watershine +wavering up the green hull over Madden's head. Utter silence pervaded +the vessel. There was no creaking of spar or block. Hot tar stood in her +seams in the beating sunshine. + +The boys kicked wearily through the tepid water to the schooner's prow, +where Greer succeeded in catching the bobstays and climbing aboard. A +little later he lowered a rope to Madden with a double bight in it. The +Yankee made the Englishman fast in the loops, climbed on deck himself +and helped haul the unconscious fellow aboard. + +The two boys lugged the senseless man wearily across deck into the shade +of the superstructure, then in default of any better restorative, +Leonard began slapping the bottom of the Englishman's feet to revive +him. Presently Caradoc groaned, drew up his legs. + +"He's coming around all right," said Greer, then he looked about him. +"What do you make out of this anyway, Mr. Madden?" + +Leonard glanced around and did see a remarkable derelict. The schooner +was as newly painted and trig as if fresh from the ways. Her deck was +holystoned to man-o'-war cleanliness; every sheet, hawser, stay, tackle, +pin, spike, was in place. Three small boats, her full complement, hung +in davits. On the bow of these boats, on their oars and buoys, was +painted the name of the schooner, "Minnie B." + +From the port side of the vessel there stretched a long cable patently +leading to a sea anchor. All sails were brailed except mains'l and +tops'l, which were reefed and set against each other to hold her steady +in case of a blow. The funnel was freshly painted black with a red band +at the top. Judging from her appearance, the desertion of the _Minnie +B_ had been carefully planned. Yet why desert a new vessel? By what +means did the crew leave the schooner, since all her small boats +remained? + +What was their motive in anchoring the _Minnie B_ in the middle of +the Sargasso? + +There appeared to be no easy answer to these questions. + +"I don't understand this," said Greer, in answer to Madden's unspoken +perplexity. "Where did the crew go, sir, and how did they go?" + +"They might have deserted her for her insurance," suggested Madden +tentatively. + +"Then why didn't they scuttle her--besides, a new vessel like this is +worth more than her insurance." + +"Maybe it was her cargo. Perhaps they faked it, rated it away above its +value." + +"Why she has no cargo, sir. She's riding light as a skiff; I noticed +that as I climbed up." + +"Then what is your idea?" inquired the American. + +Greer glanced around with a trace of uneasiness. "The crew went by the +board, sir, I'm thinking." + +"Overboard--all washed overboard! Why there isn't one chance in a +million of such a thing hap--" + +"I didn't say 'washed overboard,' sir," corrected Greer heavily. "I +think they got throwed overboard, one by one, sir." + +"One by one!" Madden stared at the solemn faced fellow. + +Farnol nodded stolidly. "Just so, sir." + +"You mean--?" + +"The plague, sir." + +"O-oh!" The American stared around the deck with new eyes. Greer's +explanation struck home with a certain convincingness. The mere thought +of disease-laden surroundings filled him with alarm. Could they have +unwittingly wandered into a deserted pest-ship? A focus of death in +these rotting seas? The very air he breathed, the wood he touched, might +inoculate him with malignant germs. Then he began reasoning on it. + +"Even if it were the plague, there ought to be someone left aboard, +Greer, a last corpse." The American sniffed the hot, breathless, +tar-scented air. + +"He could well have gone crazy, sir, in this heat and followed his mates +overboard--but we can look and see." + +At this moment, Caradoc stirred and pulled himself to a sitting posture +on the burning deck. + +"You--you pulled me aboard?" he murmured weakly, looking about with the +face of a corpse. + +"How do you feel--anything I can do?" + +"If I had a dr--" he broke off, drew a long breath. "Nobody aboard?" + +"If you're all right, Greer and I will take a turn below and see what we +can find," suggested Madden. + +Caradoc nodded apathetically and stared seaward toward the cable sagging +into the dead ocean. + +The two boys moved gingerly up to the hatchway that led down to the +forecastle. If disease had smitten the _Minnie B_ they hoped to get +some clew from the taint of the sailors' quarters. Greer stuck a nose +down the ladder first. Beyond the usual close ship smells there seemed +to be nothing wrong. Then they climbed down. + +Here again they found order. The bunks against the bulkheads and the +curve of the prow were clean with neatly rolled blankets. The lockers +were open and empty. The two searchers climbed out and walked aft to the +lazaret. They were rapidly getting over their fright of the plague. +Again Greer entered first, and this time Madden heard a loud snort of +disgust. + +Half expecting some sinister sight, Madden ran down the three steps and +entered the storeroom. But what had roused the sailor's dislike was that +the lazaret contained no provisions. It was as empty as the forecastle; +not a chest, not a canister, not even a spice box remained. Here again +the lockers were open and empty. From one of the keyholes hung a bunch +of keys. The steward had deserted his ring, knowing it could never be of +service to him again. + +The little metal bunch hung straight down without the slightest +oscillation. Such lack of motion and life amid the close stewing heat of +the lazaret threw a glamor of unreality over the whole affair. The +schooner might well have been warped to a dock in some port of the dead. +The very newness of everything accentuated its amazing loneliness. + +"Doesn't seem real, does it?" said Greer in a low tone, drawing a long +breath in the heat. "I keep listening." + +Madden shook himself. "It seems as if someone ought to be aboard." He +broke away from the spell: "I wish they had left us some provisions--we +need 'em." + +The hot heavy silence fell immediately after the remark, like a curtain +that was heavy to lift. + +"Let's look through the hold and see if there _isn't_ someone +here!" suggested Greer uneasily. + +With a feeling that they were likely to encounter some being, human or +spectral, at every turn, they went below. The farther they went the more +inexplicable became the _Minnie B's_ desertion. Her engines were in +perfect order, her furnace so new that the grate bars were still +unsealed from heat; the maker's name-plate was still bright on the +boilers; her hull was quite dry, with less than six inches of water in +her bilge. She had no cargo, except four or five tons of raw metal +ingots used as ballast. The coal in her bunkers was nearly exhausted. +Indeed she was riding so light that heavy weather would upset her like a +chip. It seemed as if the crew had looted the _Minnie B_ in a +thorough and extraordinary manner, and then had simply vanished. Every +now and then in their search the two would find themselves standing +motionless, open-mouthed, listening intently to the brooding silence. + +More puzzled than ever by these explorations, the two adventurers +climbed into the chart room. Here, also, everything was intact, and in +order. In a desk they found the ship's log and clearance papers. The +captain's and the mate's licenses hung in frames against the wall. Near +these was tacked the picture of a sunny-haired little girl and +underneath it was written the name "Minnie." So the schooner was the +little smiling-faced girl's namesake, this tragedy-haunted abandoned +vessel. A Mercator's projection lay thumb-tacked on a table, and the +last position of the schooner was indicated by a pin sticking in the +map. + +Madden moved over to it eagerly, hoping this pin would give him some +inkling as to where the disaster, if there had been one, occurred. He +noted the latitude and longitude indicated by the marker, then turned +excitedly to Greer. + +"Look here!" he cried, "this pin marks our position at this moment. We +are right here!" he touched the point on the map. + +"How do you know it does?" + +"I calculated the dock's position this morning." + +"Well, what of that? She will probably lie here till she rots in this +stagnant sea." + +"That's the point: This is not a stagnant sea. There is a current of +about six miles a day in the Sargasso, very slow, but it will change a +ship's reckoning." + +Greer remained unimpressed. "What do you make of that?" + +"Make of that! Why, man, the person who took this reckoning, took it +_this morning_! That's the only way he could have got it. There was +somebody on this schooner this morning when we sighted her." + +"This morning! This _morning_! Where in Davy Jones' locker----" + +Madden was leaning over the chart scrutinizing it with careful eyes. At +last he raised up in complete bewilderment. + +"Farnol," he said in a queer tone, "the crew meant to come here! Meant +to sail through the Sargasso--clear away from all trade +routes--incomprehensible but--just look!" + +Both boys bent above the chart, and Madden silently pointed out a row of +pin holes that marked the daily reckonings of the _Minnie B_. She +had sailed from Portland, Maine, had swung up the northern route past +Newfoundland Banks as if going to England. On this portion of her voyage +her average run was a little less than two hundred knots a day. On the +fifth day out, the _Minnie B_ inexplicably deserted the normal +trade course, turned from "E. NE." and sailed directly "S. SW." At the +same time her speed was accelerated to a trifle over three hundred knots +a day. Her last reckoning left the pin sticking in the exact longitude +and latitude which Leonard had worked out for the dock that morning. + +"They got in a hurry when they did turn south," said Greer vacuously. + +"They certainly burned coal from there to here." + +"But what could have put her in such a rush, sir?" + +"She must have sailed somewhere after a cargo, and later received a +cancellation of the order. With that cancellation there must have come a +new commission with a time limit, from some of the South American ports, +I should judge by her course, say Caracas, or Paramaribo." + +"But she has no wireless, sir. She couldn't have changed her +destination." + +"That would be fairly easy to explain. There are so many fast liners +with wireless between New York and Liverpool, it would be a simple +matter to get a message signaled to a sailing vessel in the trade +route." + +"But I can't see why she sailed through the Sargasso?" + +"If the time factor had been urgent enough, she might have tried to +shorten her journey by coming this way instead of following the usual +course by Cuba and through the Caribbean." + +"That doesn't tell what happened to the men." + +Madden shook his head and wiped the sweat from his face on his +undershirt sleeve. "Let's read the log. That ought to clear up things a +bit." + +Both lads hurried over to the desk, drew out the greasy, well-thumbed +book. In their excitement, they forgot rank and tried to read together. + +"Let me read it aloud," compromised Madden. + +Dripping with sweat, they leaned on the hot desk and went carefully over +the log of the _Minnie B_. + +The record was simple. The _Minnie B_, of Leeds, England, sailed +from Portland, Maine, for Liverpool on July thirtieth with a cargo of +lake copper in bulk bound for Liverpool. For the first five days, her +log was written in two heavy unscholarly hands, which alternated with +each other, and were evidently those of the mate and the captain. These +two handwritings were quite distinct from each other and contained the +usual notes of prevailing winds, state of weather, speed, distance +indicated by patent log, dead reckonings, vessels sighted and such like. + +From the sixth to the twentieth day, the log of the _Minnie B_ was +written in a sharp, pointed, scholarly hand, and this record was +confined to the mere relation of distances and reckonings. Then on +the twenty-first day of August there appeared the following entry: + +"46 degrees 57' W. Long. 27 degrees 24' 11" N. Lat. No wind. Sargasso +Sea. Current 9.463 kilometers per 24 hrs. W. SW. Cast sea anchor. Five +hundred tons ingots reshipped." + +At this statement, Leonard turned and stared at Greer. + +"Reshipped! Reshipped! Holy cats, Farnol! Reshipped from here--right +here!" He jabbed a finger downward to indicate the spot in the dead +Sargasso Sea occupied by the _Minnie B_. + +Greer shook his head dully. "But this is all the wildest--" he made a +helpless motion. "You oughtn't to think about it, sir, or you'll be +going overboard, too. Reshipped!... This heat will get anybody in +time.... The man who wrote that went and jumped overboard the next +minute no doubt. Reshipped..... It ain't good for us to read it, sir." + +"But something's gone with her cargo, Greer!" declared Madden +vehemently. "Something's gone with it. I don't care how crazy the crew +became they surely wouldn't have dumped a hold full of copper into the +sea. This log says 'reshipped' and blessed if I don't believe--" + +At this moment the boys seemed to hear the sound in the deathly silent +vessel for which their ears had been all the time straining. Madden +broke off abruptly and both stood listening with palpitating hearts. It +was repeated. A repressed half groan, inarticulate, as if some human +being were in distress. It was in the main cabin below them. + +Hardly daring to guess at what they would see, the adventurers crept +silently out of the chart room, down a short hot passageway to a door. +Leonard caught a breath, then opened it without noise. + +In the brilliant westering light that flooded the main cabin through the +port holes, Madden saw a dining table, disordered as from a recent +feast. On the floor around it were fragments of smashed glasses and +bloody stains. A cut glass decanter, half full of wine, sat on the +table, and in a corner of the cabin shrank the figure of a man. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A MODERN COLUMBUS + + +Hardly knowing what to expect the two advanced into the cabin, when the +figure turned and looked at them with pallid countenance. + +"It's Caradoc!" cried Madden in great astonishment and relief. "Scots, +Smith, you gave us a jolt! We thought--what's the matter, old chap? Heat +again?" + +The Englishman's long face was strained. "Would you--take that decanter +away, please!" he begged unsteadily. + +Instantly Leonard understood the temptation into which Caradoc had +unwittingly wandered. A strong odor of wine pervaded the cabin, and +Smith's knock-out had given his nerves a great craving for a stimulant. + +Without a word, Leonard walked to the table, took the wine bottle by its +neck and heaved it through the open port. The three men in their half +costumes stood listening intently until it chucked into the sea below. +All three seemed to feel relief at the sound. + +"That's all right, Caradoc," said Madden with a note of comfort in his +voice, "all right, old chap. It won't be like this always." + +"I was unstrung--rotten heat," grumbled the Englishman in acute +self-disgust. "I thought I was getting over all--" he shifted the topic +suddenly: "What do you make out of all this?" + +"Completest mystery I ever ran into--the crew deserted for some +reason----" + +"And they had a feast and a celebration before they went. What cause of +rejoicing they discovered in this place is more than I can fancy." + +An inspection showed Smith was correct. What the boys had taken for +bloodstains in their first excitement were splashes of wine. The table +was still laden with dishes and eatables. Broken glass around the table +showed that the diners had followed the old custom of breaking their +goblets after toasts. + +"They were having a last square meal before taking to their boats," +speculated Leonard. + +"But the boats are still here, sir," objected Greer. + +"There seems to be no explanation," gloomed Caradoc. + +"If we gathered this up and took it to the men, they would thank us +heartily," suggested Greer. + +"That's a fact," agreed Madden, setting to work at once. "Here, pile +these plates on trays and we'll load 'em in the small boat." + +The three adventurers set to work busily, carrying the provisions, which +were still fresh and wholesome, to the port dinghy which lay toward the +dock. + +As they worked they speculated further on what could have brought about +such an extraordinary situation. Their guesses ranged from water spouts +to savages. Presently Caradoc cut in with: + +"It's not so much how the _Minnie B_ got here, as it is how we are +going to handle her." + +"We'll man her and sail home," said Greer. + +"We'll have to ballast her first," declared Leonard. "She won't run this +way." + +"We have enough coal on the dock for that, sir." + +"In a flat sea like this," suggested Caradoc, "we can warp the schooner +to the front of the barge and load the coal directly in her hold." + +By this time the dinghy was loaded and the three swung her out of the +davits into the sea below. Then they threw down a rope ladder and +climbed below. Greer went back to the stern, picked up an oar and began +to scull. + +The sun sank as the little boat worked her way through the lanes of +seaweed, and the great dock threw long purple shadows across the highly +colored ocean. Caradoc looked at the great structure intently. The +setting sun rimmed its great shape in brilliant red, but the bulk of it +lay in deep wine-like shadow. The boys gazed at it musingly. + +"A fine structure to desert, isn't it?" said Caradoc in a low tone. + +"Just what I was thinking," sympathized Madden. "I suppose we could send +a tug back and find her?" + +"Doubtful, in this fantastic place." + +"The current is fairly well charted; still, it may take us some time to +reach port----" Both men fell into a musing silence as Greer nibbled the +boat forward with the single oar. + +"The thing's worth over a million pounds," appraised Caradoc. + +Suddenly Madden straightened with an idea. "How about hitching that +schooner to the dock and towing her?" + +"What an American idea!" Caradoc lifted his voice slightly. + +"Would we--make any--headway, sir, with the schooner's--light +machinery?" asked Greer, his sentence punctuated by shoves at his oar. + +"We would have to try and see. Besides, we would have to do little else +than help the current we are in. The Atlantic eddy sweeps through the +Caribbean close to the South American coast. If we could control our +direction slightly, we would perhaps make La Guayra or the Port of +Spain." + +"With a seven or eight mile current that would take us months--years.... +What is the distance to La Guayra?" this from Smith. + +"Something around fifteen hundred miles. But that isn't the point. It +isn't how long it takes us, it's can we _do_ it. Had you thought of +the salvage end of this thing?" + +"Salvage, no. We'll get salvage on the schooner--a bagatelle." + +Madden shook his head, "No, I believe we ought to get salvage on the +whole dock." + +"Salvage on the dock!" Caradoc opened his eyes. "We'd be jolly well near +millionaires. No, that's impossible. A crew can't salve their own +vessel." + +"Yes, but we are not the crew of the dock," insisted Madden, "at least +not the navigating crew. The men of the _Vulcan_ were that. We are +nothing but painters----" + +"Oh, that's a quibble--nothing but a quibble!" objected Caradoc. + +"Well, anyway, I think there is a rule that if a crew rescue their own +craft under circumstances of extreme peril, they come in as salvors. +I'll look it up in Malone's books when we get back." + +At that moment their ears caught a cheering from the dock, which came to +them as a small sound almost lost over the immense flat sea. Greer +paused in his work to wave a hand, which was extremely sociable for him. +The men bunched on the forward pontoon, waved and shouted at the little +boat. As the noise grew louder, questions shaped themselves in the +uproar. + +"W'ot did ye make of 'er?" "Was there anywan aboard?" "W'ot ship is +she?" "Can we git a berth hoff this bloomin' dock?" + +Madden held up his hands for silence and shouted a reply. + +"We have a meal for you--a dinner!" + +A great shouting and cheering broke out at this. It is strange how much +more pressing is the small need of a dinner than the large need of a +rescue. The mystery of the schooner was overlooked in a sight of the +plates and victuals. + +"Oh, look, there it is--bread and meat!" "And, say, ain't that fish?" +"And that goose or something!" + +Eager hands reached down as Madden and Caradoc handed up the platters. +"To the mess room, to the mess room!" directed Leonard. + +"Sure, sure, we wouldn't touch a mouthful for hanything!" cried Mulcher +earnestly. + +"Misther Madden, you're a wonder!" extolled Hogan. + +Then the three men climbed up and were received clamorously. Even the +silent Greer found himself beset with a temporary bunch of admirers. All +began talking of the _Minnie B_, asking questions. Caradoc unbent +his dignity and explained what he had observed. + +Leonard went straight to the officer's cabin, eager to satisfy his +curiosity about salvage. A whole fortune shimmered before his vision if +law allowed the crew to salve the dock. He turned into the hot cabin, +struck a light and ran his eyes over the mate's shelf of books. He soon +found what he was hunting, "Abbot's Law of Merchant's Ships and Seamen." + +Leonard sat down at his desk, placed the light close by and began a +sweating search for the legal rule applicable to salvage. It was +Madden's intention to attempt to get the dock to port no matter what the +law said, but he knew his best chance of getting the crew to cooperate +was through possible prize money. + +Like all legal works, Abbott gave shading decisions on both sides of the +topic. As the lad read on he discovered many questions were involved. + +What constitutes the crew of a vessel? Can a towed vessel have a +navigating crew? Could a lawful crew be composed of ordinary laborers, +or would it be necessary for them to be able seamen? + +All these points and many others were involved, but Leonard plodded +patiently through the legal labyrinth, and finally decided that he and +his crew were eligible for prize money. He then fell to estimating the +probable amount the crew would receive. The dock was easily worth a +million pounds, or say five million dollars. It would lack one or two +hundred thousand totting up a full five million, but Leonard's +imagination was in no mood to balk at a paltry two hundred thousand more +or less. Say five million! The share of the salvors would amount to--say +fifty per cent, two and a half million. Distribute this among twelve +men. There he was, two hundred and eight thousand, three hundred and +thirty-three dollars and thirty-three cents. Or say two hundred thousand +dollars. + +Madden drew a long breath and opened his eyes at his own figures. Was it +possible? He doubted it! He believed it! + +He stared out of his open port onto the fantastic sea, amazed that a +great fortune should drift in to him from such a place. What would he +do? How should he live? He could go anywhere, do anything. There came to +him suddenly the precepts of his old teacher in economics at college: "A +fortune is a great moral responsibility. A rich man is a trustee of +society." Did he have the brains to wield this money and make it mean +something to the world? The thought of wealth always comes with a +question. A man's answer to that question determines whether he is a man +or a thing. + +Before Leonard could reach any sort of decision, Gaskin rang his gong +for dinner. The boy arose and walked buoyantly towards the mess hall. He +was hungry, too. Ever since he had cut rations, he had been eating the +same fare as the men. + +The tropical night was falling as the men joyously entered to a +full-fledged, satisfying, if secondhand, meal. They came in laughing, +joking boisterously, wondering about the schooner. + +When the men had strung around the long table, Mike Hogan arose and the +men became quiet as if at some preconcerted signal. The Irishman gave a +slightly embarrassed bob toward Leonard and began in an extra rich +brogue: + +"Misther Madden, sir----" + +Leonard glanced up in surprise. "What's worrying you, Mike?" + +"Th' bhoys, sir, have been thinkin' as how we would loike to ixpress our +appreciation av what ye've done for us, sir, in a little spache, +something loike a little spache av wilcome, sir, an' asked me to do it, +if ye don't moind." + +"Go ahead," nodded Madden, "but don't expect much of a response from me. +I'm no speaker and----" + +"Go on, Mike!" "Go to it, Mike!" "Take a sip of water, Mike, like a +reg'lar one, and cut loose." + +With this encouragement, the Celt moistened his dry lips, thrust out his +chest, and after a momentary fumble, stuck three fingers in his shirt +front. + +"It's me pr-roud privilege, ladies and gintilmin, to wilcome to our +midst, a gintilmin bearin' in wan hand a distinguished ancistry, a +spirit av enterprise and a hear-rt av courage, while wid his other, he +snatches a dinner for his starvin' min out o' th' middle av th' Sargasso +Sea. Oi rayfer to our distinguished commander, Captain Leonard Madden of +America." + +A burst of applause followed this period. Hogan beamed, bowed deeply to +left and right; his voice went up an octave and he proceeded: + +"Ladies an' gintilmin, me mind runs back through th' pages av histh'ry, +lookin' for a name fit to be compared with him but I don't find none. +There is Columbus and Peary and Stanley and Amundsen, all av thim +gr-reat min, but whin you come to compare thim with our hero, phwat have +they done? + +"Look at Columbus. What is his claim to glory? Did Columbus iver swim +out into th' stinkin' Sargasso and come back with a good dinner for his +star-r-vin' min? Histh'ry does not say so. He discovered America, +Columbus did. What is America? A whole continint. Anybody that was +sailin' by would have noticed it. But, gintilmin, a dinner is a very +small thing and they are har-rd to discover, as ivry wan of you lads +very will know. Columbus wint out in thray ships, our gallant captain +wint out in his undhershirt and a straw hat. I say thray cheers for our +gallant captain!" + +The cheers were given with a hearty good will and the orator sat down +smiling broadly and moistening his dry lips with his tongue. Then the +diners desired a response. + +It struck Madden to propose salving the dock while the crowd was mellow. +He arose when the noise subsided somewhat. + +"I thank you fellows very much for the kind opinion you entertain of me, +and now I want to lay a proposition before you." + +"Hear! Hear the captain!" called two or three cockneys in hoarse good +humor. + +"I want to say that to-morrow we are going to man the schooner and sail +for home." + +The men were in a bubbling mood, and cheered this with cries of "Good! +Good!" + +"What I wish you to decide is, whether we shall tow the dock, or sail +with the schooner alone?" + +"With the schooner alone, sor!" "Schooner alone!" "We 'ave enough of th' +dock!" came an instant chorus. + +Leonard held up a hand, "One moment. I want you to have a voice in this +decision. An attempt to tow the dock will be highly adventurous, no +doubt dangerous. You were not hired for any such service, and I wish to +leave it to a vote." + +"Good, very good, sor! Let's 'ave th' question!" + +"Just one moment. You must consider the salvage involved in this matter. +If we save the schooner, we will receive as prize money about one-half +her value. If we save the dock, we will receive about half _her_ +value. The dock is worth a million pounds, about five million dollars. +So each man would receive for his portion, in event we salved the dock +about... two hundred thousand dollars... a fortune." + +A profound silence fell over the diners. They hunched forward, staring +fixedly out of sunburned, gross, dissipated faces. Longshores-men, the +scum of London, who had worked all their lives for half a pound a week, +gaped at the idea of two hundred thousand dollars. + +Somebody repeated the sum hoarsely. Suddenly they raised an uproar. + +"We'll take 'er, sir!" "We'll tow th' dock, sor!" "We weel tow zee dock +to zee moon for zat!" "Sphend our loives and die rich min!" + +The strong imagination of wealth ran around the table like wine. +Deschaillon responded first. + +"Voila! One meellion francs! I weel buy a pond near Paris and raise bull +frogs. I weel buy a decoration and be a knight. I weel----" + +"I'll start an undertaker shop!" glowed Galton, "and my old mother shall +have a bit of ground to raise flowers." + +"Glory be!" chanted Hogan, "Oi'll wear a tall hat, a long-tailed coat +and carry a silver-headed cane, and thin Susie Maloney and Bridget +O'Malley and Peggy O'Brien will be sorry they iver tossed up their saucy +noses at th' love o' an honest lad!" + +"I'll own a kennel of bulldogs," growled Mulcher, "and 'ave a fight +hev'ry day." + +All this was given in chorus and much of it lost. Those who didn't speak +aloud their heart's desires thought them. Fortune had shown her golden +form to these crude men for a fleeting instant, and dreams, long hidden +in their hearts, suddenly leaped to life. They were poor dreams, selfish +dreams, foolish dreams, but for the moment they poised, like liberated +fairies, for a flight to the land where dreams come true. + +"We sail in the morning," explained Madden, "for a South American port. +Is there anyone in this crew who knows anything about running a marine +engine?" + +The men fell silent and looked inquiringly at each other. Fortune was +beginning to show herself elusive, even in the Sargasso, save to those +who _know_. + +"I b'lieve not," said Mulcher. + +"We could raise steam, sir," suggested Galton, "and then pull all the +levers and twist th' w'eels, sir and see w'ot'd 'appen." + +"W'ot 'ud 'appen!" cried two or three voices. "W'y, we'd hall be blowed +galley west, 'at's w'ot'd 'appen!" + +"Sure Misther Madden can figger it out!" suggested Hogan cheerfully. + +"We might leave th' dock and run 'er 'ome by sail," suggested Galton. + +"No! No! Take th' dock!" "We'll run'er by steam!" "Steam's th' word!" +A storm of determination cried down any such suggestion. + +"D'ye mean a dozin str-rong min can't run one little engine!" shouted +Hogan; "r-rich min, too! It's a shame, lads, we haven't a dhrop o' +something to dhrink the health av th' ixpedition." + +"Yes, Mister Madden, a drop o' something!" urged another voice. + +At that moment, Gaskin entered the door with suppressed excitement +showing through his usually imperturbable manner. + +"Hi--Hi beg pardon, Mister Madden. Hi, don't want to interrupt, but--" +he rubbed his hands with a little bob--"but would you 'ave th' goodness +to step outside for a look, sir. Hi think th' _Minnie B_ is on +fire." + +And the fairy dreams, evoked by a wave of Fortune's wand, crept silently +back into the hearts of their owners. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE STRANGE END OF THE _MINNIE B_ + + +At Gaskin's announcement, bedlam broke loose among the diners. They +leaped to their feet and rushed headlong from the messroom. + +"Get th' buckets!" "Man th' boat!" "We'll niver get there in toime!" +"_Allons! Allons_!" "W'y didn't we put a guard on 'er!" "Hurry! +Hurry! Hurry!" "Yes, 'urry! 'urry!" + +Out into the darkness to the forward pontoon rushed the howling mob. +Some gave inarticulate cries, others bewailed their lost riches to the +vast empty night. + +A strange sight met their eyes. The spars and sails of the _Minnie +B_ stood out against the black heavens in a flickering brilliance +that danced up through the rigging, but presently all saw it was a mere +light shining from beneath. + +"Th' fire's in th' hold!" cried Galton hoarsely. "Did you men drop a +match?" + +"'Ow could they drop a match, wearin' nothin' but undershirts?" flared +back another navvy. + +"We could do no good in a small boat!" cried Galton. + +'She's afire from stem to stern!" + +"But smoke--w'ere's th' smoke?" + +Then, quite surprisingly, the light wavered out, leaving the schooner in +stony blackness. A vague blur of complementary color swam in Madden's +eyes. A gasp went up from the watchers. + +"Bhoys," faltered Hogan in an awed tone, "th' banshees ar-re dancin' +to-night!" + +"Banshees!" sneered Mulcher. "Th' deck's caved in--it'll break out +again!" + +"Th' engines must be ruint complately." + +"Wot do ye make of it, Mister Madden?" asked Galton, bewildered. +"Look--there it is again!" + +Sure enough the mysterious light flamed up once more as suddenly as it +disappeared. It flickered and wavered over hull and spars. + +"It might possibly be a phosphorescent display," hazarded Leonard, +completely mystified. + +"Tropical seas grow very luminous when disturbed... a school of +dolphins or sharks on the other side the schooner might----" + +"This must be a reg'lar fire!" cried Mulcher. "Nothin' but a furnace in +th' hold----" + +"W'y don't hit smoke?" + +"'Ow do I know?" + +"Hit ain't a fire!" + +"W'ot is hit?" + +"Phosphescence, didn't you 'ear Mister Madden say!" + +"Will hit sink 'er?" + +Deschaillon gave a sharp laugh. "What _sauvages_!" + +By this time it became clear to everyone that it was not a fire. As the +weird illumination continued its fantastic gambols, little points of +light began moving about the deck. + +Just then Caradoc's grave voice hazarded: "That must be an extraordinary +display of St. Elmo's fire. I should say a storm was brewing." + +"Would St. Elmo's fire 'urt th' vessel, sir?" asked a cockney. + +"Not at all," replied the Englishman. + +As Leonard stared a queer thought came into his head. He looked around +at his companions. In the faint radiance from the mysterious schooner, +he could make out their faces, pale blurs all fixed on the strange +spectacle. He picked out the heavy form of Farnol Greer and moved over +to his friend. Under the cover of excited talking and exclamations, he +asked in a low tone. + +"There was somebody on that schooner this morning, Farnol?" + +"Just what I was thinking, sir." + +"He could have hidden from us. You thought he must be crazy--a crazy man +would probably have secreted himself." + +"I had it in mind, sir, the very thing." + +"Now could he possibly make a light like this?" + +Greer remained silent. The queer fellow never said anything when he had +nothing to say. + +"I'd like to go over and see," went on Leonard. "I want one man to row +with me. We want to go light and fast." + +"That's me, sir." + +Greer moved instantly to the rope ladder where the dinghy was tied. +Madden followed him. Caradoc was still explaining the theory of St. +Elmo's fire to the listening men. Madden broke in on it. + +"Fellows," he called, "Greer and I are going to row over there. We'll +let you know what we find." + +Amid warning protests the two climbed down the ladder for the small +boat. + +"I wouldn't do it, sir." "Leckricity's liable to strike you, sir." +"There's a storm comin', sir, and you won't get back, like th' mate +did." "You can see just as well from 'ere." + +But the two clambered into the half-seen dinghy and pushed off. The +moment they dipped oars into water, the mystery was partially explained. +Every stroke they made created bright phosphorescent rings in the +lifeless sea. Their blades drove through the water in a flame. The +navvies cried out at this phenomenon. A sufficient disturbance of the +sea beyond the schooner would almost explain the strange light dancing +through the rigging. But what made that disturbance? + +Reflections of the shining spars made a wavering path over the +weed-strewn water, and up this path the dinghy moved amid its own +flashing fires. It formed a queer spectacle, a glowworm creeping up on a +bonfire. + +The fact that the two boys had just traversed the Sargasso lanes a few +hours before aided them greatly now in finding their way to the +schooner. Presently they were skirting the drift of seaweed where Madden +had come so near losing his life. As they rowed, the flashing of the +water about their oars only half convinced Madden that a similar cause +underlay the bizarre illumination on the schooner. The American's mind +clung to the idea that there was somebody on board the _Minnie B_, +a madman, possibly, who in some unknown way produced this amazing light. + +He groped for some theory to account for a maniac on a deserted schooner +in these desolate seas. No doubt if a solitary man were left in these +terrible painted seas he would go insane. Madden regretted that he had +not searched the _Minnie B_ more thoroughly when he had the +opportunity. + +Similar thoughts evidenly played in Greer's mind, for presently he +puffed out, between oar strokes: "Did you bring along a pistol, sir?" + +"No, but there are two of us." + +"They say they are tremendously stout, sir." + +"We can use our oars; they'd made good clubs." + +"I'm with you, sir." + +By this time they had entered a long S-shaped rift that Madden recalled +led straight to the schooner. By glancing over his shoulder, the +American saw its two curving strokes drawn in pale light against the +dark field of seaweed. As they drew nearer, wild notions of what they +might encounter played through Madden's mind. What would be the outcome +of this fantastic adventure? + +The dinghy was moving down the middle of the long "S" when a dull noise +from the schooner caused both oarsmen to look around. Such an +extraordinary sight met their eyes that they ceased rowing completely, +and stood up in the boat to stare at their goal. + +The _Minnie B_ no longer lay at rest. Some strange and mighty +convulsion was taking place in the schooner. The lights still played +about the vessel, but her whole prow rose slowly out of the sea, while +she settled heavily by the stern. The most unexpected thing in the world +was happening. + +The _Minnie B_ was foundering! + +In the ghastly light, her masts and rigging swung in a slow drunken +reel. Presently she settled back to normal with a heavy crushing sound +as the water in her hold rushed forward. She seemed some mighty +leviathan weltering in agony. She lay on even keel for four or five +minutes while a hissing and spewing of air compressed in her hull told +she was slowly settling. + +In the ghostly light the foundering vessel gave a strange impression of +clinging desperately to her life. She seemed striving to remain upright. +Her hissing and sucking might have been a living gasp for breath. Very +slowly she rolled over, and came the noise of many waters cascading down +over her upflung keel. Her masts crashed, yards broke, rigging popped in +the wildest confusion as they dashed into the sea. Great phosphorescent +waves dashed through the prone rigging and over the hull in liquid fire. +A sea of quicksilver leaped up to lick her down. With great bubbling and +sucking and groaning, the _Minnie B_ fought for her last gasp of +life. For several minutes she lay thus, on her side, every detail +clearly delineated as liquid fire roared down her open hatches. At last, +as she filled with water, the schooner straightened with a mighty +effort, a last stand between sea and sky, then sank slowly out of sight +in a scene of wild and ill-starred beauty. Her mainpeak disappeared in a +shining maelstrom. The convulsed water flashed and hissed, and the +circling waves here torches into the dead seaweed and moved the black +fields to a whispered sighing. + +Toward the south the waves moved with great velocity and brilliance. +Indeed something seemed to be rushing away from the wreck, clad in long +winding sheets of flame. It might have been a continuation of the waves +in that direction, or it might have been some dolphin or shark flying +from the roaring vessel. + +In ghastly mystification, the two watchers stared at the last weird +gleams that marked the foundered schooner. The waves reached the dinghy, +raised it and dropped it with a slow gurgling, then died away in firefly +glimmers. The sea presented once more a dim gray surface. To Madden's +mind there came, with a sharp sense of pathos, the picture of the little +sunny-haired girl he had seen in the chart room. + +"Sunk," murmured Greer in a strange tone, "sunk--when she was as dry as +a chip." + +"Heeled over," shivered Madden, "heeled over in a dead calm--God have +mercy on us!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +CARADOC SHOWS HIS METTLE + + +Heat, that grew more terrific as the dock drifted southward; hunger, +that gnawed like rats at the empty stomachs of the crew; withering heat, +aching hunger, growing despair--that was life on the floating dock. + +Of all the crew only Gaskin remained in good condition. It would have +required more than a hero to cook food and go hungry, but the crew made +no such allowances. They berated the dignified Gaskin, they eyed each +other's scant portions jealously. Their quarrels over food at last +forced Madden to weigh each man's allowance to the fraction of an ounce. + +The nerves of the crew frayed out in the heat. By night they slept amid +tantalizing dreams of food; by day they sprawled in dreary silences +under awnings which held heat like sweat boxes. The high metal walls of +the dock caught the sun's rays and threw out a furnace heat. The men +endured it in net undershirts clinging to dripping bodies; their eyes +ached against the glare, their stomachs rebelled, their brains sickened +with monotony and despair. + +The men developed little personal traits that exasperated their mates +unreasonably. Mulcher had a way of breathing aloud through his coarse +lips that chafed Hogan's temper. For hours at a time the Irishman would +stare at those flabby spewing lips, filled with a desire to maul them. +Yet before this isolation, he had never observed that Mulcher breathed +aloud. + +The only occupation the men had now was to stare at, listen to and +criticise each other. All painting had ceased, for work consumes energy, +and energy consumes food. + +Caradoc Smith found peculiar and private grievance in the fact that +Greer often whistled to himself in a windy undertone. The tune Farnol +chose for these unfortunate performances was an American ragtime, that +repeated the same strain over and over. + +Caradoc strove not to listen to this dry whistling. Sometimes he left +his awning and climbed up the walls through the sapping sun's rays to +escape it, but his ears caught the faintly aspirated air at remarkable +distances. + +One day he said to Madden: "I don't see how you stand that Greer +fellow's eternal whistling," and Leonard answered: + +"Does Greer whistle?" + +"Whistle! He whistles everlastingly, abominably--one of those confounded +American rags. He's at it now--what is that thing?" + +Madden had to listen very carefully before he caught the faint blowing +between Farnol's lips. Presently he identified it. + +"That's 'Winona, Sweet Indian Maid.'" + +This reply seemed to arouse an irrational anger in the Briton. + +"'Winona, Sweet Indian Maid'--_sweet_ Indian Maid!" he snorted. +"Did an Indian write such a nightmare? Is it a war song? Do they murder +each other by it, or with it?" + +Madden grinned with fagged appreciation, thinking the remark meant for +humor, but Caradoc grimly chewed his blond mustache. + +It was noon, three days later when Caradoc's endurance broke down. + +"Greer!" he snapped with all his pent-up irritation in his voice, "will +you never stop mouthing that beastly tune?" + +The stolid fellow looked around in the blankest surprise. "Tune?" + +"No, groaning, wheezing! You spew it out all day long! What do you think +you are? A tree frog, a locust, a katydid? Doesn't your mouth get tired? +Does that hideous tinkle go through your hollow head all day long?" + +The Englishman's long face was a dusky red. He had not intended to be +insulting when he first spoke, but all the sarcastic and abusive +epithets that he had _thought_ during the long super-heated days of +nerve-racked listening, now rushed out like steam from a boiler. + +Farnol stared straight at the nervous fellow. "Are you insane?" he asked +in wondering contempt, + +"A wonder I'm not--with that diabolical wheezy spewing boring in my +brain--you never stop a minute--over and over----" + +"Have you run out of stolen whiskey again?" interrupted Greer with cool +malice. + +The whole crew came to hushed attention. + +Caradoc seemed to collect himself with a great effort. The blood ebbed +from his face, leaving it the color of clay. + +"Stolen?" he asked in a contained voice. "Yes, isn't there another +medicine case for you to steal?" + +"Greer!" cried Madden reproachfully. The American knew it was hunger, +heat and nerves that were nagging these two miserable men to quarrel. + +"I believe he said I was no gentleman," pronounced Greer sarcastically, +"because I didn't know a little French. I say _he's_ a thief." + +Caradoc was drawing long breaths through dilated nostrils. "Mr. Greer," +he said with cold evenness, "it is impossible to obtain swords or +pistols on this dock. We will have to fight with our hands. Choose a +second!" + +Greer nodded shortly. Both men got to their feet and both glanced at +Madden. + +The American shook his head. "I can't serve for either of you. I'm in +command here. I'm impartial." + +"Will you oblige me, Mr. Deschaillon?" asked Smith with a set face. + +The Gaul arose, saluted, military fashion, with a clicking of heels. +"Eet ees an honor, M'sieu!" + +Greer stared around dourly. "Hogan?" + +The Irishman leaped to his feet joyfully. "Oi'm wid ye, Misther Greer, +and we'll bate th' long face off th' spalpeen, though I hate to hit +Frinchy Dashalong, who is a good frind o' mine." + +All the men were up now circling about the principals. + +"You don't have to do no fightin', 'Ogan," explained Galton, "you simply +stand by and 'old up for your man, an' 'elp fan 'im 'twixt rounds." + +"Rounds!" exclaimed the disgusted Irishman. "I thought they were +choosin' sides for a free-for-all." + +Caradoc began methodically stripping to the waist and Greer followed +suit. The Englishman presented his watch to Madden with a slight bow. + +"If you'll be so kind as to keep time," he suggested, "that's a neutral +position. We fight four minutes and rest one." + +Madden considered the warlike preparations askance. He wondered if he +ought not to stop it. The Englishman might suffer another sunstroke. +However, he took his station at the ringside, and glanced at the watch, +which had a coat of arms carved on the inside of its hunting case. + +There was a striking contrast between the two fighters. The Englishman +was a beautiful taper from his great shoulders to his small aristocratic +feet. His muscles were long, graceful and knitted across his arms, +chest, and stomach like lace leather. He was built for swift enduring +action and could only have sprung from a race of men who had spent their +lives in play and luxury. + +Farnol Greer, on the other hand, was as heavily moulded as a bulldog. +His arms were short and blocky; his shoulders welted with brawn; his +chest was two hairy hills, like a gorilla's, while across his stomach +muscles lay ridged like ropes. His waist was thick with pones of sinew +bulging over the hips, as one sees in the statue of Discobolus. It was +plain that Greer had labored tremendously all his life and that his +strength was simply wonderful. + +It struck Madden as a strange coincidence that these two extreme types +of luxury and labor should meet in this furnace on the Sargasso and +fight for the trivial reason that one offended the other's sense of +music. + +"All ready!" called Leonard. + +The two men squared away at each other, Caradoc smiling sarcastically, +Greer grim as a gallows. Utter silence fell over the crowd. The fighters +crouched, bare fists up, staring at each other over the tips of their +guards. + +For a moment Smith shifted around his man on his toes. He seemed as +light as a cat. Greer stood solid and merely turned on his flat feet. +Suddenly Caradoc's long right whipped out with a crack against the +shorter man's forehead. Greer made no sign of having received a blow, +although a dull red splotch slowly formed on his frontal. Caradoc led +another right, which Greer blocked, then the Englishman bored through +with a stinging left to the hairy chest. + +"Go afther him! Kill him!" cried Hogan to his principal. "Nixt toime he +thries to hit ye, knock off his head for his impidence!" + +"Aye, 'it 'im! Don't take nothin' off of 'im!" advised two of the +cockneys. Sympathy lay with the smaller man. + +Smith continued his tiptoe dance and led a straight right. Instantly his +massive enemy ducked, leaped in under his guard, and there came the dull +thud of in-fighting; Greer's black head jammed up against Caradoc's +chin, his great muscular back bent half double, his tremendous arms +working like pistons. + +The crew howled at this sharp unexpected attack. Caradoc rescued himself +by shoving open palms against the big bulging shoulders, and pushing +himself away from this battering ram. Smith bumped into some onlookers, +and got behind his guard some ten feet away from Greer. The Englishman's +fine-grained stomach was covered with pink welts from his punishment. He +had ceased smiling and was watching his man carefully. As a matter of +fact, he had expected to dispose of Greer easily--as a gentleman +disposes of a clod-hopper. But the heavy-set boy's method of fighting +was new and effective. Likewise there seemed to be a certain grim system +about it. + +"First round is over!" called Madden. + +"Phwat a shame!" cried Hogan. + +With English love of fair fight, the cockneys divided themselves +impartially between the battlers and converted themselves into impromptu +rubbers and handlers. There was perhaps not a man in the crowd who liked +Caradoc; nevertheless they hustled him to his awning, put him down on a +box, procured towels, water, sponges from somewhere, and set up a +vigorous fanning and rubbing, all out of a desire to see fair play. At +the end of a minute they carried their champions back and set them +facing each other like human game cocks. + +Farnol dashed in at once, whipping right and left hooks to Smith's +sides. Caradoc tore himself away and played for distance, stabbing at +Farnol's head at long range. The short youth accepted with indifference +punishment that cut cheeks and lips. He made rush after rush, driving +Caradoc into the crowd, who immediately shifted back and made room. Time +and again he landed terrific short arm jolts over heart and kidneys. + +The sweating bodies of the fighters glistened in the roasting sunshine. +Both were bruised, Smith's body, Greer's head and shoulders. Caradoc's +mouth felt slimy and he spit at nothing. + +The fighting went in spurts, Greer rushing Land Smith dancing away and +stabbing. The two gangs of rubbers bawled encouragement to their men. + +"Land on 'is nose there, Smith!" shouted Mulcher. "Don't let 'im to ye! +Play away, play away, me boy! Now huppercut 'im! Huppercut 'im, I say!" + +On the other side, Galton was shrieking hoarsely, "Bore in, Greer! Bore +in, me lad!" and Hogan, "G'wan and mash the spalpeen's ribs! Br-reak his +long nick! Cr-rush him! Why don't ye hit him on th' head and lay him +out?" + +"Time's up!" announced Madden. + +During the following rounds, Caradoc stuck to the long range English +method of fighting, but over and over Farnol broke through his guard and +his short-arm jabs spread a sick numb feeling over Caradoc's sides and +chest. + +The Briton deliberately worked for Greer's eyes. His first round with +the silent man convinced him that he would never be able to stop that +massive steel body with a knock-out. On the other hand Greer covered up +tightly and lunged like a tiger after Smith's stomach and endurance. + +Two or three weeks before, Caradoc could never have withstood that +terrific bombardment, but his hard life on the dock, his abstinence from +alcohol, and the fact that tobacco had long ago run out, all this had +armored his body with hard flesh. + +The opening of the twelfth round found both fighters blown, bleeding and +filled with a desperate determination to end the contest. They formed a +ghastly sight when they were pitted in what proved to be the final +clash. Greer's face was chopped and bleeding, while Caradoc's ribs were +a mass of bruises, as mottled as a leopard's skin. + +To Caradoc, the whole dock seemed unsteady. The sun bored into the back +of his head. The men had ceased yelling, and the circle silently swayed +back and forth to give the battlers room. The whole scene was hazy and +fantastic. + +The Englishman put up his hands automatically when he faced his enemy, +and the next moment black-haired blocky bull of a fellow charged +furiously. Smith tried to stop him with a heavy right hand smash, but +his fist glanced off the man's sweaty shoulder. The next moment, Greer's +right landed in a fierce solid jolt on Smith's hip bone. A sickening +pain went through the Englishman. He sagged away and went down on a +knee, hunched forward, trying to protect his face with his gloves. Greer +Started another rush, when Madden jumped in, put a hand on his shoulder. + +"You can't hit him while he's down!" he shouted in the bull's ear, and +then the American began counting: "One, two, three..." + +Caradoc rested with his broad chest panting convulsively up and down +till the count of eight. Then he sprang backwards away from his enemy. +Curiously enough, Greer did not press his advantage home. The heavy +lad came forward but stood away from Caradoc, attempting nothing but +left-hand jabs. + +In an instant Smith saw what was the matter. That blow on the hip had +ruined Greer's right hand, strained it, perhaps broken it. Greer's +rushes had stopped, and Smith, who was a boxer, not a fighter, could +stand off and peck at his man's eyes or jaw without danger to himself. + +He hitched wearily up to his enemy, blocked Greer's left hand and let +his right have a full swing at his exposed body. Farnol went through the +motion of striking, but his blow was a mere tap and caused the heavy +fellow to cringe with pain. + +[Illustration: Caradoc Stands the Acid Test.] + +Caradoc swung a light blow to the neck. Greer countered fiercely with +his left, but it was parried easily. + +Suddenly the crowd understood what had happened. + +"Put 'im out!" "Finish 'im!" "Put 'im to sleep!" bawled a chorus. "He +hit you below th' belt w'en 'e broke 'is 'and!" + +Farnol continued his chopping one-armed fight. "Put me out! Put me out!" +he bubbled furiously. "I said ye was a thief! You _are_ a thief! +You're a thief!" and he accented his charges with stabs. + +Smith side-stepped the harmless attack, letting it slide first to one +side then the other, men were so tired they could hardly keep their +feet. The Englishman looked down on the stubborn fellow, with his +chopped, bleeding face and blackened, defiant eyes. A hard swing at +unprotected jaw would stretch him out in broiling heat, but he did not +make the blow. Instead he pushed the frothing fellow away from him. + +"Go to your corner and cool off," he panted. "Yes, I'm a thief. Go on +away; I don't want knock you out." + +He turned his back deliberately and walked to his own awning. The crowd +stared, absolutely dumfounded by this unexpected turn of affairs. Greer +himself stared, then moved forward automatically to continue his +onslaught, when Hogan grabbed him. + +"Come on back," cried the Irishman. "Th' scoundrel has lift ye no ixcuse +to fight him any more. He says he's a thafe, but I don't belave Come git +a wash and let's wrap up yer hand." + +At that moment the dignified voice of Gaskin came from the forward +pontoon. The crew hushed their hot comments on the fight to listen. + +"A sail," called the cook. "A sail to th' sou'west, sir!" + +Instantly every man moved forward. The fight was forgot in the great +hope of a rescue. Even the gory looking principals hurried forward to +see if such welcome news could be true. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE RETURN OF THE _VULCAN_ + + +Etched against the horizon lay a stumpy masted vessel that seemed as +still and dead as ocean that rotted around it. She had not a sail aloft +nor a plume of smoke in her funnel. For the moment this lifelessness was +not observed by the hungry castaways. A joyous medley arose from the +dock. + +"Th' _Vulcan_! Hit's th' _Vulcan_! Th' good _Vulcan_! +We'll 'ave full rations t'night, 'at will! Hurrah!" + +They fell to cheering. Voices arose in confusion. + +"_Vulcan_ ahoy! _Vulcan_ ah-o-oy!" they bellowed in an effort +to span the miles with human ices. + +"Say, lads, she ain't movin'!" cried someone making the surprising +discovery. + +"Faith and phwat's th' matter with _her_ now?" exclaimed Hogan in +exasperated wonder. + +A silence fell over the boisterous group. + +"Out o' coal," hazarded Galton, "that's w'y she harsn't got back no +sooner." + +"W'ere's 'er sails, then?" + +"A tug couldn't do nothin' with sails--she isn't made for sails!" + +"It ain't w'ot ye're made for, hit's w'ot ye can git in this blarsted +sea!" + +"Maybe 'er machin'ry's broke?" + +"Maybe they're hall sick?" + +"Or dead?" + +"Maybe----" + +Madden hurried to his cabin and returned with binoculars. The men +foregathered curiously about him as he scanned the vessel. He ran his +eyes over the tub from stem to poop. She stood out with absolute +distinctness in the glaring light. He could see her high prow, the +swinging buffers along her side, the wide-mouthed ventilators. He could +even make out her name in rusty letters under the wheel-house. Her small +boats were in place, but he saw neither life nor movement aboard. She +appeared as deserted as a pile of scrap iron. + +"W'ot are they doin'?" queried Galton. + +"Nothing." Madden was puzzled over the strange condition of the tug. + +"Ain't they crowdin' to th' side, sir, lookin' at us and fixin' to come +to us?" + +"Nobody's on her," replied Madden. "At least I don't see anyone." + +"W'ot! W'ot! Nobody on 'er! Is she deserted, too? Just like the +_Minnie B_!" chorused apprehensive voices. + +"Seems so," frowned Madden, then he made up his mind quickly and moved +over to the small boat which had been hauled up on the forward pontoon. + +"Fall to, men, lower that dinghy. We'll go over and see what's the +trouble." + +The crew went about their task with a sudden slump of enthusiasm. + +"If the crew's gone, sir," mumbled one of the men, as he paid out the +rope, "w'ot's the use goin' across?" + +"To get to the tug, of course." + +"An'w'ot'll we do?" + +Madden looked hard at the cockney. "Get the provisions aboard if nothing +else." + +"There wasn't none on the _Minnie B_, sir." + +"What's the _Minnie B_ got to do with the _Vulcan_? We're +going to run the tug and dock out of this sea, crew or no crew--ease +away on that rope, Mulcher. Let go! Now climb down, Galton, loose the +tackle and swing her in alongside the ladder." + +When the cockneys obeyed, Madden ordered the whole crew into the small +boat. They climbed down the ladder one by one with a reluctance Madden +did not quite understand at the time. + +Fifteen minutes later, the little boat, loaded down to her gunwales, +set out for the tug. Four oarsmen rowed, one man to the oar. The slow +clacking of shafts in tholes echoed sharply from the huge walls of the +dock as the dinghy drew away through the burning sunshine. + +At some half-mile distance, the harsh outlines of the walls and pontoons +changed subtly into a great wine-red castle, that lay on a colorful +tapestry of seaweed, with a background of blue ocean and bronze sky. + +As he drew away, Madden had a premonition that the dock was vanishing +out of his life and sight, that never again would he live in its great +walls. Like all crafts in this mysterious sea, it seemed completely +forsaken, deserted. With a shake of his shoulders he put the thought +from him and turned to face the future in the motionless tug that lay +ahead. + +Half an hour later the dinghy drew alongside the silent _Vulcan_ +and the crew clambered aboard. As they had suspected, there was no sign +of the tug's crew aboard. + +Although the binoculars had forewarned them of this, the adventurers +bunched together on the deck with a qualmish feeling and began talking +in low tones, as men converse in the presence of mystery, or death. + +"We'll search her first," directed Madden, in a tone he tried to make +natural. + +"Yes," agreed Greer, "and, men, keep a sharp eye out for lunatics. Don't +let anything jump on you----" + +"Lunatics!" gasped Mulcher. + +"Greer and I fancied someone scuttled the _Minnie B_," explained +Madden with a frown, "but that's no sign such a person is aboard the +_Vulcan_." + +"They are wonderful like, sir," observed Gaskin. + +"Anyway we'll look her over." + +The men agreed and began scattering away, two by two for companionship. +Presently from the port side Hogan raised his voice guardedly. + +"Oh, Misther Madden, just stip this way a moment, if you plaze." + +The call instantly attracted several other men. They moved across deck. +Hogan was pointing. "Jist th' same as th' other wan," he said gloomily +and significantly. "We knew it would be this way, sir. It was th' same +hand as done it" + +Leonard looked with rising dismay at the sinister parallel. + +The _Vulcan_ also was lying at sea anchor. + +In brief, here was conclusive proof that the tug had been abandoned +deliberately and with forethought by Malone, Captain Black and the whole +_Vulcan_ crew. Moreover, as in the case of the _Minnie B_, they +had deserted their ship without taking a boat or even so much as a +life buoy. + +The amazed group of men collected about them other members of the +searching party, who stuck their heads out of ports and doors now and +then to see that no evil magic had set the rigging in flames. + +"They all go th' same way," mumbled Hogan, staring at the anchor and +wetting his dry lips. "Oi'm thinkin' it'll be our toime nixt." + +"Piffle," derided the American half-heartedly. + +"It makes no difference what happens," put in Caradoc, "we'll see the +thing through." + +For some reason the men thought better of Smith since the fight and his +crisp announcement cheered them somewhat. + +"She's got plenty o' coal," volunteered Galton. + +"'Er engines look all right," contributed Mulcher, "though I know +bloomin' little about hengines." + +"I weesh I knew what happened to the men," worried Deschaillon in his +filed-down accent. + +"My quistion ixactly, Frinchy," nodded Hogan emphatically. "Misther +Madden says 'Piffle,' but Oi say where are they piffled to? Did they go +over in a storm, or die of fever, or run crazy with heat?" + +"They didn't starve," declared Mulcher, "for some of th' fellows are in +th' cook's galley now eatin'." + +Madden lifted his hand for attention, "There's no use speculating on +what has happened. It's our job to get dock and tug to the nearest +port." + +"But suppose--suppose----" + +"Suppose what?" + +"Suppose th' thing gits arfter us, sir?" + +Madden stared, "Thing--what thing?" + +The cockney frowned, looked glumly across deck. Galton answered, + +"W'y, sir, th' thing that run th' crew hoff the _Minnie B_ an' hoff +th' _Vulcan_. Crews don't 'op hoff in th' hocean for amoosement, +sir. Some'n' done hit an' that's sure." + +"Do you mean you object to sailing this tug on account of some imaginary +_thing_?" demanded Madden in utter surprise. + +"Imaginary, sir!" protested Mulcher, "If you please, us lads on th' +dock, the night th' _Minnie B_ sunk, saw something swim off to th' +south wrapped hall over in fire, sir. Imaginary thing! It bit a 'ole in +th' _Minnie B_ an' sunk 'er, sir!" + +This recalled to Leonard's mind the peculiar phenomenon he had witnessed +at the sinking of the _Minnie B_. + +"What do you think the thing is?" he temporized. + +"A--A sea sorpint, sir," stammered a cockney embarrassed. + +"Sea serpent! Sea serpent!" scouted the American. "There is no such +thing as a sea serpent!" + +"That's w'ot th' hofficers always say," growled Mulcher. + +"But it is a scientific fact--there's no such thing." + +The well-fed Gaskin, who formed one of the group, made a bob. "That may +well be, sor," he said in solemn deference, "but w'ether there is or +isn't such a thing, sor, it's 'orrible to see, either way." + +From the banding of the men against him, Madden became aware that they +had decided on the real cause of the mystery behind his back, and he +would have hard work to argue them out of the sea serpent idea. + +"You boys saw a shark or porpoise swimming away from that schooner," he +began patiently. "I saw it myself. You recall, on that night anything +that moved in the water burned like fire. The ship was brilliant, the +oars of the dinghy shone. The thing you saw had nothing to do with the +schooner." + +"Then w'ot sunk 'er, sor?" + +"Aye, an' w'ot come of 'er men, sor?" + +"Aye, an w'ot come of th' _Vulcan's_ crew?" + +"Could a sea serpent put out a sea anchor?" retorted Leonard. + +The men stared doggedly at their chief. "We don't know, sor." + +"You do know that it is impossible!" + +"If there ain't no such thing, sor, 'ow do we know w'ot it can do?" +questioned Gaskin. + +"Then do you want to go back and stay on the dock and starve?" cried +Madden at the end of his patience. + +There was a silence at the anger in his tone, then Gaskin began very +placatingly, "Hi'm not wishin' to chafe ye, sor, but th' dock is so big +th' lads 'ave decided the sorpint is afraid o' th' dock." + +At Leonard's impatient gesture he added hastily, "Not that Hi believe in +such things, sor, but Hi carn't 'elp but notice that hever'body on th' +dock is alive, an' hever'body on th' other two wessels is dead an' gone, +sor." + +Madden turned sharply on his heel. "Anybody who knows anything about +marine engines, follow me," he snapped. "We must study out a way to +start the _Vulcan's_ machinery. We're going!" + +As he moved down to the doorway amidship that led below, he heard Galton +mumble: "Yes, _we'll_ be going, Hi think, down some sea sorpint's +scaly throat, but th' tug an' th' dock'll stay 'ere." + +If a view of the _Minnie B's_ auxiliary engines had put hopeful +notions in Madden's head of puzzling out their control by mere +inspection, a single glance at the huge machinery of the _Vulcan_ +filled him with despair. + +The tug's hull was practically filled with a maze of machinery. Her +engines arose in a tower of bracings, wheels, gearing, pistons, steam +pipes, steam valves, with a multitude of the eccentrics and trip +gearings used on quadruple expansion engines. + +Although he had seen hundreds of steam engines, never before had Madden +realized their complication until he faced the problem of running this +difficult fabric. His proposed task made him realize that the engineer's +apprentice, who serves four years amid oil and iron black, learning all +the details of these mechanical monsters, is probably just as well +educated, just as capable of exact and sustained thought, as the lad who +spends four years in college construing dead tongues. + +Madden could construe dead tongues, or at least could when he left +college a few months back, but now his life, the life of his crew, the +salving of the dock, and the winning of a possible fortune, depended +upon his answering the riddle of this Twentieth Century Sphinx. It was +like attempting to understand all mathematics, from addition to +celestial mechanics, at a glance. + +Nevertheless, Madden's training as a civil engineer gave him a certain +aptitude for his formidable undertaking and he set about it with +rat-like patience. + +He picked out the main steam pipe, larger than his body, covered with +painted white canvas, and followed this till he discovered the throttle, +a steel wheel with hand grips with which he could choke the breath out +of the monster engines. Beside this were control levers. On the steam +chest lay a half-smoked cigarette, as if the engineer had been called +suddenly away from his post. + +Madden turned the throttle, pushed the levers back and forth, and +listened to clicking sounds high up in the complexity of the engines. He +knew that every lever threw long systems of vents and valves in and out +of play. A wrong combination would easily wreck all this powerful +machinery. He was tackling a delicate job--like juggling a car-load of +dynamite. + +An oil can sat under the throttle. The amateur engineer picked up this +and a handful of greasy tow. Engines require constant oiling. Madden had +never watched an engineer ten minutes but that he went about poking a +long crooked-necked oil can into all sorts of hidden inaccessible +places. + +Madden thought if he tried to oil the engine, he might learn something +about it. He glanced around for the usual myriad little shining brass +oil cups stuck, one on each bearing. To his surprise, he saw none. The +machinery of the _Vulcan_ was lubricated by a circulatory +compression system, which used the same oil over and over. Madden did +not know this, so it threw him off the track at his first step. + +No one had followed the boy into the engine room, so now he was about to +go on deck and commandeer a squad, when, to his surprise, Galton +appeared at the top of the circular stairs, whistling a rather cheerful +tune. He leaned over the rail and called down heartily: + +"Do you want me, Mr. Madden?" + +"Yes, come along. I wish you knew something about machinery." + +Galton laughed buoyantly. "I'm not such a chump at hit, sor," he +recommended. + +"You know something about it?" inquired Madden in surprise. + +"A bit, a bit, Mr. Madden. My brother Charley is chief engineer on the +_Rajah_ in the P & O, sor." + +"Ever work under him?" asked the American hopefully. + +"Two years, only two years, sor. Never did finish my term an' get my +papers. Often's the time 'e's begged me to do it, Mr. Madden. 'E'd say, +''Enry, me boy, w'y don't ye finish your term and git a screw o' sixteen +pun' per, but I was allus a----" + +"That's all right!" cried Leonard delightedly. "I don't care whether +you're a full-fledged engineer or not. You're hired for this job. +Understand? You'll get full wages, and then some. I'll----" + +"Oh! I can 'andle a little hengine like this, sor. That's th' +inspirator, sor," he pointed. "That's th' steam chist. In th' other end +is th' condensing chamber. That little hegg-shaped thing is----" + +"That's all right; I'm no examining board. Just so you can run it and +keep it running. Now I'll get a gang at the furnace, if the boys have +got over their sea-serpent scare by this time." + +"They're jolly well over that, sor. Me and Mulcher 'ave decided as 'ow +we're goin' to kill that sea sorpint, if it comes a-bitin' into our tug, +sor." + +Madden looked at his willing helper curiously. "Kill it--how are you +going to kill it?" + +"Dead, sor, yes, kill it dead, sor." Galton nodded solemnly, "My brother +Charley, cap'n o' th' _Cambria_, sir, in th' 'Amburg-American Line, +'e learned me to kill sea sorpints, w'en I was jest a l-little bit of +a--a piker, sor. An' I n-never forgot 'ow 'e told me to do it. You climb +up th' mainmast, sor, w'ere you can git at their 'eads, cross your +fingers for luck, an' blow tobacco smoke in their eyes. They 'ate +tobacco smoke an----" + +Leonard stared at the fellow, with a sinking heart. He was drunk. As to +whether he knew anything about marine engines or not, there was no way +to find out. + +The effect of the long strain of heat, hunger and anxiety now told on +Madden in a wave of unreasonable exasperation. + +"You boozy fool!" snapped the officer, "you haven't sense enough to run +a go-cart. Go down and start a fire in the furnace--can you do that?" + +"Shertainly," nodded Galton gravely, "Mr. Madden, I can do anything. Go +bring me th' furnace, and I'll put a fire in it _that_ quick. I'll +start it now." + +Here he stooped unsteadily, picked up a piece of oily tow, and before +Madden knew what he was about, drew out a match and set fire to the +greasy mass. + +Leonard made a jump, planted a cracking blow between Galton's eyes. The +fellow went down like a tenpin and lay still. The American stamped out +the blazing tow before the fire spread on the oily floor. + +Just then he heard a yelling from the upper deck. Hardly knowing what to +expect, he dived for the circular stairway and rushed up three steps at +a jump. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE SEA SERPENT + + +When a new crew is shipped on an old vessel, the mate's first duty is to +search the sailors' dunnage for whiskey; when an old crew is shipped on +a new vessel, that officer would do well to search the vessel for rum. + +Madden had neglected this. While the American was in the engine room, +the cockneys in the cook's galley had found intoxicants, had poured raw +whiskey into their empty stomachs and the result was the quickest and +most complete intoxication. When Madden regained the deck he found his +crew singing, laughing, fighting, quarreling in an absurd medley. + +Deschaillon roared out a French song. Two cockneys quarreled bitterly +over what words he was saying. Mike Hogan jigged to the Frenchman's +tune, but shouted as he danced that he was spoiling for a fight. The +smell of spirits reeked over the tug as if someone had sprinkled her +deck with liquor. + +Madden looked with anxious eyes for Caradoc, but did not see him. Smith +was probably stuck away in some hole, senseless with poison, his effort +at sobriety frustrated, his moral courage shattered, his weeks of +painful reform smashed. + +Whatever humor there might have been in the ill-starred situation was +destroyed for Madden by his friend's moral relapse. It was much as if +some invalid, nursing a broken leg, should fall and break it over again. + +Gaskin was the first man who came in reach of the wrathful American. +Madden caught his arm, whirled him about. + +"You ladle rum out to these hogs?" he blazed. + +Gaskin revolved with dignity and considered his accuser. "You wouldn't +think Hi'd do such a thing, sor!" + +"Then how did they get it?" Leonard shook the fat arm sharply. + +"In spite o' me, sor! In spite o' me!" defended the cook, shaking his +fat jowls earnestly. "Hi rebooked 'em, sor. Says Hi, 'Gents, this is +lootin', it is piratin', it is----'" + +"You should have refused them a drop!" + +"Refuse--Hi did refuse, sor! Hi did more. Hi blocked 'em! Hi--Hi fought +hout, like a demon, sor! There were too many! Hoverpowered me, sor, they +did! I was fightin' and blockin', fightin' and blockin', like a d-demon, +sor, b-but--b-but----" + +Here Gaskin's utterance grew thicker, his fat head bobbed, then he +slithered down by the rail in the hot sunshine; his face stared skyward +and stewed sweat in the terrific heat. Madden gave a grunt of disgust. +Gaskin was fast asleep. + +There was nothing to be done. The men were drunk and he would have to +wait till they became sober before making an attempt to run the +_Vulcan_. He stood a moment, staring disgustedly at his useless +crew, then finally stooped and dragged Gaskin to the shady side of the +superstructure. As he passed with his burden some of the men made clumsy +tangle-footed efforts to salute. + +In the shade Leonard found a deck chair, perched himself on its arm so +as not to touch its hot canvas, and sat brooding glumly. He banished the +drunken uproar from his brain and began totting up his prospects for +escape from this foully beautiful sea. His mind jumped from topic to +topic in an exhausted fashion. He wondered whether or not Galton really +knew anything of marine engines? If the dock would be discovered by a +passing ship? If the tug's crew had really gone demented and leaped +overboard? If there were any connection between the fate of the +_Minnie B_ and the _Vulcan_? + +It seemed to Madden that he had been in the heat and brilliant +garishness of the Sargasso for centuries. He wondered if the men would +become so starved that they would draw lots to see who should be killed +and eaten. + +Anything, everything, was possible in this isolated sea. Its normal +happenings were unreasonable. It was a place of madness. He recalled the +words of the navvy on the London dock, "Everything is unreasonable at +sea." Certainly that was true of the vast stewing labyrinth of the +Sargasso. He had lived abnormally so long that it seemed strange to him +now to think that there were comfortable, well-ordered places on the +face of the earth. Just as one cannot imagine snow and ice in the depth +of summer, so Madden could not imagine the simple comforts of life. It +seemed to him the whole world shriveled under a furnace heat. + +Such heat, such congestion, he thought, might well breed sea-monsters. +After all, why should there not be a sea monster? Who could be sure that +the old megalosauri, and megalichthys were extinct? Those monsters +existed once upon a time, certainly. He was half persuaded that they +still existed. + +A sea serpent! + +He wondered what a sea serpent would look like? One might well drive a +man insane, cause him to leap overboard in utter horror. + +His feverish brooding was interrupted by a wild flood of abuse from the +starboard deck. It was Galton's voice bellowing: + +"Were is 'e? Were is that bloody Hamerican? 'E 'it me! 'It me in th' eye +for trying to 'elp 'im! You lads goin' to see me murdered for nothin'?" + +Came a medley of drunken questions: + +"W'ot's th' matter? Who bloodied your bloomin' eyes? W'ot 'appened?" + +"That Hamerican chap!" bawled Galton savagely. "'E 'it me for 'elpin' +'im make a fire! Goin' to see me run over an' killed?" + +"Faith Oi didn't see nawthin'," panted Malone, fresh from his dance + +"Won't you stan' by a Hinglishman?" shouted the battered one. + +"Sure we will!" + +"We're Hinglish!" + +"Le's 'lect 'nother hofficer an' court martial 'im!" bawled the sailor +venomously. + +"Sure, make 'im walk a plank!" + +"Son of a shark!" + +"Man-killin' crimp!" + +The whole crew came lurching around toward Madden, filled with the wordy +anger of intoxicated men. + +The American arose to his feet with little emotion save a return of his +old disgust. He knew he could defend himself from any assault the crew +might make in that condition. But they made none. They stopped a little +way from him, some drunkenly grave, others winking or leering, some +abusive and threatening. + +"Go'n' tuh 'lect 'nother captain," announced Mulcher thickly. "You no +reg'lar hofficer!" + +"You 'it a man for 'elpin' you, and 'urt 'is eye!" + +"Make 'im walk a plank!" flared out Galton, shaking a big fist at +Leonard. "Make 'im walk a plank!" Leonard observed that the fellow's +nose and forehead were badly bruised, and dark circles had settled under +his eyes. He started for Madden, when Hogan caught him under the arms. + +"Phwat you talkin' about, old scout? Walk a plank--you have to court +martial him first." + +"I don't b'lieve 'e can walk a plank," surmised a cockney gravely. +"'E's too drunk; 'e'd fall hoff." + +"Where's Farnol Greer, Mulcher?" snapped Madden disgustedly. "Is he +drunk, too?" + +"D-drunk--you don't think we're drunk, sor?" + +"We 'ave been drinkin' a little, sor, but we're not drunk." + +"Oi am," nodded Hogan, resting his chin on Galton's shoulder as if from +deep affection. + +"Oi don't a--ack loike it, you--hic--you couldn't tell it on me, b-but +Oi--Oi--Oi'm drunk, aw roight." + +"I theenk Greer ees in the cook's galley," smiled Deschaillon, who +appeared to be rational; then he added coolly: "Eef there ees any +fighting, I weel help you, Meester Madden." + +"Cook's galley!" sputtered Mulcher. "'E's drinkin' hit ever' drop, lads; +come on!" + +"An' th' grub, too!" added Hogan. + +This news completely disorganized the court martial and election +committee. Galton himself forgot his revenge in his thirst. They +started aft pellmell in confused haste to help Greer finish the rum. + +Leonard made no objection. They were already drunk. They might as well +dispose of the liquor once for all, and then it would trouble discipline +no more. + +When the men and their turmoil had disappeared, Madden remained on deck, +filled with a dull, heavy feeling of lassitude and bitterness. It was +one of those moments when a man's hope is swamped in present +difficulties. + +The sun swung slowly down into the western sea, and its reflections made +long blinding streaks in the Sargasso. Its yellow light transformed the +great red dock into an orange structure that rested on the sea as +lightly as the pavilions of the evening clouds. + +The perpetual bizarre beauty of the scene was tiring to the youth. For +some reason he thought again of the sea serpent. It occurred to Madden +that an enormous scaly thing, in vivid spangling colors, embossed with +sword-like spines, with a long convoluted tail, huge red-fanged mouth, +would be in keeping with the scene before him, would indeed produce a +gorgeously decorative effect, such as he had seen in Chinese pictures. + +His thoughts took all sorts of queer turns. He wondered what he would do +if he should see such a creature? He walked over and stood by the rail, +staring intently into the colorful west, half expecting to see some wild +dragon of his imagination. If it should come, he wished for a camera--a +moving picture camera. A moving picture of a dragon attacking a ship! + +Just then he caught a strange noise that seemed to emanate from the air +above his head. He stood quite still, hands on rail, listening. It was +repeated. It was a human noise. It seemed to come from the vacant +bronze-colored sky above his head. He wondered if he were going insane? +Just then he caught sight of Caradoc's torso thrust out from a barrel up +in the shrouding of the foremast. The crew of the _Vulcan_ had run +up the barrel like a whaler's lookout to post a watch. Into this barrel +Caradoc had climbed. + +The face of Smith wore a strained, desperate look. Madden stared at him +for several seconds, quite taken aback by finding him in such an +unexpected place. One thing, however, filled the American with deep +gratification. The man was not drunk. + +"What you doing up there?" called Madden in surprise. + +Caradoc's broad shoulders sagged drearily. "I don't know," he said +dully. "I fancy I might as well jump overboard and be done with it." + +Madden became instantly alert. "Jump overboard! What for?" A sudden +thought hit him. Maybe this was the way they all went? Then another fear +entered his heart. + +"Say, have you seen anything up there, Smith?... A dragon, or... sea +serpent, or..." Madden stared dumbfounded at his friend, marveling what +manner of sight had put suicidal thoughts into Smith's head. + +"Heavens, yes... dragons, dragons, dragons!" + +A weak, watery feeling went through Madden's legs. He felt doddery. +"Many dragons!" All idea of beauty was lost in grisly horror. + +"W-wait a m-minute!" he chattered. "D-don't j-jump--I'm coming up +th-there!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +CARADOC WINS HIS FIGHT + + +Trembling all over, Madden gained the barrel and stepped through a niche +in its side. He stared through the brilliant, hot colors, but no rushing +horde of monsters met his eyes. + +"Which way?" he asked breathlessly. + +Caradoc looked around at him in uncomprehending misery. There was just +room for the two in the barrel. Smith seemed to put his mind to Madden's +question with an effort. + +"Which--what did you say?" + +"Which way?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"The dragons, man, the dragons!" + +"Dragons--right here!" Smith beat his broad chest, then waved his long +arms about. "Everywhere--don't you smell it?" + +The idea of smelling dragons confused the American. "Smell what?" + +"The whiskey!" shivered Caradoc. "I came up here to get away from it." + +"Oh--so you didn't see--I understand!" + +"It's tantalizing--horrible!" he shivered again, as if the superheated +air chilled him. + +The American's own foolish fancies vanished in the face of his friend's +real trouble. Caradoc had met a dragon more terrible than the Sargasso +could conjure up, and its fangs were in his heart. His flight to the +crow's nest had been an effort to escape its fury, but it had followed +him there. Leonard put a hand on his friend's shoulder. He was at a loss +what to say. Indeed there was nothing to say. + +"Habit--queer thing, Leonard--I thought I was all right." + +"Yes?" + +"You see, in college I used to take an alcohol rub-down after my bouts, +and a drink. And now, after my fight at noon--smelling this--you don't +know how it brings it back, appetite, recollections, everything----" he +waved his hands hopelessly again. + +"Don't think of it. Put your mind on something else." + +Caradoc gave a short mirthless laugh. "Stand in a fire--and consider the +lilies?" + +"We've got to consider how we'll ever get out of here, if we can't run +this tug's engines..." + +"We're stuck! We're stuck!" declared the Englishman miserably. "I don't +see why I don't go down and be a hog again... we'll finally starve... +Somehow I had a mind to die sober... God knows why I ever came on such a +junket." + +"Starve nothing. We'll get out somehow. We can fish and eat seaweed and +distill our own water. I can make a still. And you'll get over that +appetite. Bound to--can't last always." + +Smith relapsed into silence, staring over the dying colors of the sea. +Madden tried to think of simple remedies to abate a drunkard's appetite +for alcohol. He had heard of apples, lemon juice, but both were as +unobtainable as the gold cure itself. + +"How long have you been like this?" he asked at last. + +"Been bad two or three years. Drank some all my life. My governor taught +it to me when I was a baby. Then when I got older if I went too far he +kicked. Naturally I intended to stop in time, till I slipped in deep." + +Leonard nodded understandingly. "It always gets a nervous high-strung +fellow. The better stuff you are the harder it hits you." + +Caradoc stared moodily seaward as he continued his recollections. + +"The governor kept warning me. I don't believe he'd ever have kicked me +out, but he died. Then they cashiered me--took my commission--and my +family let me go, too... Well, I can't blame 'em." + +"Your commission--in the army?" + +"Navy." + +"What were you?" + +"Second lieutenant." + +Madden looked at his friend curiously. Here was a queer pass for an +English naval officer. This revelation explained a good deal about +Smith, his autocratic manner, his many-sided education, his emotion at +leaving England. It even explained why he had expected Malone to place +him in charge of the dock. + +"Is there any hope of getting back in?" asked Leonard sympathetically. + +"Instauration! Never knew of such a thing in our navy. If I ever get out +of here I'll go in trade somewhere." + +"In South America?" + +"I had British Honduras in mind, or Canada. I'd like to keep in the +Empire." + +A noise below interrupted the conversation. The two youths looked down. +The deck plan of the tug lay flat and empty save for the inert form of +Gaskin. The noise came from inside the cabin and arose to a shouting. It +was a drunken ribald sound. A suspicion flashed on Leonard's mind. + +"Those pigs below are wasting the stores," he declared. + +"They ought to be stopped." + +"I couldn't stop them without a fight. They were about to court martial +me when they happened to think of something else." + +Caradoc stared down in the direction of the noise, "I might talk them +into sense if Greer isn't drunk and wanting to fight again." + +"He said he never drank--I don't know." + +Caradoc nodded, "I'll go down and send them forward," he asserted with +conviction, and started to climb out of the barrel. + +Madden looked at the Englishman with a certain apprehension, "Caradoc, +if you go down there where they are drinking, won't you----" + +"No, I'm not going to drink." + +"It will be a temptation." + +"I have myself in hand now. This talk has done me good. No, I'm all +right." He swung out of the barrel and started down the ratlines. + +Leonard watched him anxiously, not at all sure of the outcome of his +mission, not at all sure that the hot smell of rum in the galley would +not again overcome his resistance. + +The sun was just dipping into the sea and its last light spread out of +the west to the zenith like a huge red-gold fan. Purplish shadows had +already begun to dim the tug and dock and ocean. + +Fifteen or twenty degrees above the sunset shone a pale crescent moon in +the burnished sky. The sight of the moon somehow cheered Madden. He +recalled a childish superstition that it was good luck to see the new +moon clear. At any rate, as the sky darkened, the clear new moon brought +Leonard comfort and renewed hope. + +With a grateful feeling of the providence of an Almighty that hung out +moon and stars, the youth glanced around the darkening horizon and +presently observed a tiny light far to the south. He stared at it quite +surprised, and then he chanced to see a star just above it. It was the +reflection of Sirius in Canis Major. + +The beam of a star must lead any thoughtful soul into endless reveries. +Beneath its calm and infinite light, all human troubles fade to the +brief complaining of a child in the night. Death becomes a small, +unfeared thing, and life itself, the trail of a finger writing an +unknown message upon water. + +Filled with such musings, the American noted with surprise that the +light on the sea which he had fancied to be the reflection of Sirius was +moving. It was not the reflection of a star. + +It was a light moving in the gathering darkness. + +What sort of light could it be? A Will o' the Wisp? A Jack o' Lantern, +some phosphoric phenomenon rising in the exhalations of rotting seaweed? + +Ten minutes before, his excited imagination would have conjured up +hydras and dragons; now he scrutinized the mysterious illumination +unexcitedly. It winked out occasionally, then presently reappeared. But +it did not move in an aimless fashion, after the manner of gaseous or +electrical phenomena. It pursued a straight line toward the +_Vulcan_. That was why Madden had not observed its movement sooner. + +Although it had crept only a little way down from the horizon, the +wondering boy could discern its progress plainly among the dark masses +of seaweed that blotched the graying water. The light was moving toward +the _Vulcan_ and at a high rate of speed. + +As he watched it, the enigmatical light suddenly disappeared. The youth +blinked his eyes, looked again. It was gone. Then he became a little +uncertain whether or not he had ever observed any such phenomenon. He +glanced down on the dark deck and could faintly discern the form of the +cook. + +"Gaskin!" he called sharply, "Gaskin!" + +To his surprise the drunken fellow stirred and made some mumbling reply. + +"Get up. I want to know whether or not you can see anything." + +Came a sluggish stirring from below, and then Gaskin's voice, in which +deference struggled with a bad headache, "Yes, sor, I can see +hever'thing as usual, sor." + +"I thought I saw a light to the south. Just take a look in that quarter, +will you?" + +The dopy cook scuffled to his feet and stumbled over to the rail, hung +there, peering intently southward. At that moment, there burst out of +the sea a brilliant illumination that fairly blinded Madden. Shocked +into spasmodic action, the American jumped from barrel to ratlines. + +He hardly knew how he got down, as much of a fall as a climb. Strange +fearsome thoughts chased through his head. The men were right about +something attacking the _Minnie B_. Now the same thing had attacked +the _Vulcan_. The _Vulcan_ would be sunk. He must rush the men +out of the galley into the small boat. He must race back to the dock. +The dock apparently was safe. What the startling apparition was, he had +no time to speculate. When he touched the deck he sprinted for the +cabin. + +As he passed Gaskin the light vanished as mysteriously as it had +appeared, and left the tug in inky darkness. + +Madden heard the cook give a deferential cough and then say, "Yes, sor, +Hi saw it, Mr. Madden, saw it quite plainly, sor." + +A moment before Leonard reached the cabin door, someone flung the +shutter open violently and shouted his name in the utmost alarm. + +"Mister Madden! Mister Madden! Come quick, sir!" + +The American lunged through the dark aperture straight into the fellow's +arms. In the darkness he could not make out who it was. + +"Don't be afraid! Did you see it? Where are the rest of the men?" + +"In the galley, sir, with him!" stammered the sailor, + +"Are they in a funk?" gasped Madden, feeling that he himself was in one. + +"Oh, they are that, sir." + +"Why don't they come on out? We must get 'em out!" + +"They're with him, sir, 'fraid to touch 'im!" + +"With who?" + +"Mr. Caradoc, sir." + +"Afraid to touch him--why, what's the matter?" + +"'E's dead, sir." + +A feeling as if ice water had been dashed over his body shivered through +Leonard. The black cabin seemed to swing under his feet. His arms +dropped down and he stood perfectly still staring into the blackness +from whence came the sailor's voice. + +"You--you don't mean he's _dead_?" he asked in a shocking whisper. + +"That I do, sir, dead as a lump o' seaweed." + +Madden turned and walked with a queer light feeling toward the galley. +He was in no hurry now. If that strange light sank them, drowned them, +it made little difference. An idea came into his mind. + +"Did--did you fellows kill him--murder, him?" he asked in a hard +undertone. + +The tenseness of his voice seemed to scare the sailor, "No, sir, no, +sir, no, sir!" repeated the cockney over and over. + +"For I'll shoot the man down like a dog! I'll hang him! I'll--I'll----" + +"We--we didn't touch 'im!" cried the sailor in hoarse alarm. "'E done +it 'isself, sir. Went clean crazy, kilt hisself--'orrible!" As the +sailor gasped out "horrible" they entered the cook's galley where a dim +light burned and a group of silent, sobering men stood in a knot over +some object. + +Madden shoved through to where two men stooped over a long body, dimly +seen on the decking. The two men were Hogan and Deschaillon. + +With his strange feeling still strong upon him, Madden knelt between the +two. Caradoc lay limp and motionless, with a dark stain slowly spreading +on the boards under his head. + +"Tell me about this," commanded Leonard, thrusting a hand under the +prostrate man's shirt and feeling for his heart. The request set loose a +babble. + +"'E did it 'isself, sor!" "Split hopen 'is own 'ead, right enough!" +"W'ack, 'e took 'isself, w'ack!" "Aye, that 'e did, sor!" "It sounds +queer, an' it looked queerer, but 'e did, sor!" + +Madden made a sharp angry gesture for silence, "One at a time. Mulcher, +what happened?" + +"'E comes in, Mr. Madden," began the cockney more composedly, "an' says, +'Forward, men, lively now,' an' Galton 'e turns an' says, 'Ye may take +that, ye--'" + +Again came the irrepressible chorus, "Aye, that 'e did, sor!" + +"If a man speaks before I address him, I'll brain him!" shouted Madden. +"Hogan, what happened?" + +"If you plaze, Misther Madden, Misther Smith came in and asked iv'rybody +to stip forward and quit atin' up th' grub. Galton was mad innyway, an' +had a glass o' whiskey in his hand. 'Quit atin'!' yills Galton. 'A +officer niver wants nobody to ate but himself.' Then, 'Take thot!' he +yills, and flings his whiskey straight into Smith's face. + +"Av cour-rse, we ixpected to see him smash Galton to smithereens, him +being dhrunk--Galton, I mane--but he stood still as a post, sir, and +tur-rned white as a sheet. I filt sorry for th' gintilmin--him putting +up sich a good foight this avening--so Oi thought if he didn't want to +fight, I'd help him pass it off aisy. I had a glass o' liquor in me own +hand. I offers it to him. Says I, 'Pay no attention to th' spalpeen at +all, Misther Smith,' says I; 'he's a fool to be throwin' away good +liquor loike that; and have this dhrink on me, and if he does it again +Oi'll pitch him out o' the port.' With that I handed him me glass. + +"Well, sir, he took it, an' I belave there was niver another face on +earth loike his, whin he hild up that glass to th' lamp. His hand shook +so some of the sthuff shpilled. His face was loike a corpse. He shtarted +to dhrink. Put it to his lips. Thin of a suddint, loike it had shtung +him, he yills out, 'God 'a' mercy!' flings down th' glass, which smashes +all over th' floor, lowers his head an' plunges loike a football tackle, +head fir-rst, roight into th' sharp edge o' that locker there where ye +see th' blood an' hairs stickin'. Down he wint, loike he's hit wid an +axe, wid his skull broke in siv'ral pieces no doubt. Mad as a hatter, +sir, fr-rom th' hate. Though it's sich an onrasonable tale, sir, I won't +raysint it if ye call me a liar to me teeth." + +Madden had found the Englishman's heart still beating. He pressed his +fingers in the long bloody wound on his head and the skull appeared +sound enough under the long gash. + +"Get him out on deck," he ordered sharply, in an effort to keep his +voice from choking in his throat. + +"Out on deck! He's not dead! Get him in fresh air!" + +Hogan, Deschaillon, and two navvies caught him by the legs and arms. +Madden lifted the bleeding head from which the blood still ran in a +steady trickle. The crowd gave back and the five men with their grewsome +burden passed through the galley's door into the dark passage. + +Just then a sudden vibration went through the whole ship, as if the +_Vulcan_ had been struck by some enormous force. The men carrying +Smith staggered. There burst out a blare of confusion, amazed cries, +shouts of terror. There was a stampede in the narrow passage. Flying men +bumped into the bearers of the sick man. They were shrieking, "We're +struck! We're foundering! Th' sea sorpint's got us!" + +"Launch the small boat and stand by till we get there!" bellowed Madden. + +All the carriers dropped Smith's body and bolted in the panic. Madden +braced himself against the rush of the crew and held up the senseless +man lest he be trampled on in the blackness. The uproar in the passage +was terrific as the men tried to squeeze through all together. Every +moment Madden expected a rush of sea water down the passageway. Just +then, he felt someone else lift at Caradoc. + +"Go on," said Farnol Greer's voice. "Let's get him out, sir." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +TOWED! + + +When the American pushed outside with his burden, a breeze swept the +deck of the _Vulcan_ with an unexpected coolness. The vibrations +had almost ceased, but there was a slight hissing of water from +somewhere, and a feeling of movement. The men were in a hubbub on the +port side where the small boat lay tied. + +Filled with the idea that the ship was about to founder, Madden stared +about. To his vast astonishment, he discovered the tug was not sinking, +but moving. The _Vulcan_ was under way. The noise he heard was the +swift displacement of water. For some unaccountable reason, the vessel +glided southward at a speed of eight or ten knots. + +In the uproar forward, Madden heard the cries: "Th' dinghy's swamped!" +"We carn't reach 'er!" "Cut 'er loose and jump!" "We couldn't right 'er +in th' water!" "Cut 'er and jump! Quick! 'Eaven knows w'ot's got us!" + +"Steady! Steady, men!" bawled Madden, laying Caradoc down on the deck +and hurrying across to his panicky crew. "What's moving us?" + +"We don't know, sir! Th' sea sorpint! Grabbed our cable and made off!" + +"Can you see it?" + +"Just make it out, sir, ahead!" + +"Cut th' cable!" cried another voice; "that'll get us loose!" + +"Yes, get an axe--Quick!" + +A dim figure came running aft past Madden for the axe. The American +shouted at him: "Come back! Don't touch that towing line! Let things +alone!" + +"Yes, but this'll drag us to the bottom!" chattered one of the men +forward. + +"We'll get in the dinghy when the ship goes down!" + +"We might row to the dock from here!" + +The men stood in a string along the rail, below them in the hissing +water the dinghy tossing topsy turvy. + +"What's towing us? I don't see it?" cried Madden. + +Several arms pointed forward. Leonard peered through the gloom. The +crescent moon and the stars filtered down a tinsel light. The faint +shine merely made the darkness more evident Madden seemed to catch a +glimmer of a bulk at the end of the anchor line some hundred yards +distant. He listened but heard only the gurgle of the _Vulcan's_ +wake and the creak of her plates. + +When the sheer panic of surprise had worn away somewhat, the weirdness +of the uncanny voyage came upon the crew with tenfold force. They stood +gripping the rail, staring ahead with the feeling of condemned prisoners +on their way to the gallows. + +"We're 'eaded for the 'ole in th' sea!" muttered Mulcher. + +"We'll go down tug an' hall," mumbled Galton unsteadily. "Fish bait, +that's w'ot we are!" + +"I've heard sea serpents can sting a man and numb him so he won't live +or die," shivered Hogan, "like a spider stings a fly." + +They spoke in half whispers under the influence of the unknown terror. + +"If anything happens, I shall keel myself," declared Deschaillon, with +nervous intensity, "but I shall see it first." + +"That's w'ot went with the other two crews--killed theirselves," +chattered Mulcher. + +Another silence fell. The cool breeze came as a sort of mockery of their +unknown peril. For the first time since the storm every man was +thoroughly comfortable physically. + +"Boys," planned Hogan, "whin th' thing comes aboard, we'll put up th' +best foight we can!" + +"It don't come aboard--it bites a 'ole in th' 'ull." + +"Aye, like th' _Minnie B_." + +Just then a figure approached the men unsteadily, and Madden saw that +Caradoc had recovered consciousness and was able to walk. As the tall, +gaunt figure approached, the crew eyed him as if he were some new +danger, then he asked. + +"What is this? Are we moving?" + +"Yes we're off," replied Madden. + +"Under our own power?" he inquired, turning around and staring at the +smokeless funnel. + +"No, we're being towed." + +"Towed! Towed!" exclaimed Smith in a weak voice. "What's towing us?" + +"We don't know, sor," replied a cockney. + +There was a silence in which Caradoc stood tall and cadaverous as a +ghost. "Am I dreaming this, Madden?" he muttered finally. "Did you say +we were being _towed_?" + +"That's right." + +"What's towing us--not--not the dry dock--don't say the dry dock's +towing us!" + +"We don't know, sor," repeated the cockney. + +"Where are we going?" + +"To be killed, sor." + +Caradoc moved slowly over to the rail and sat against it near Madden. + +"A cool breeze," he murmured gratefully. + +The American was lost amid the wildest speculations as to the mysterious +agent that had the _Vulcan_ in tow. He was trying to think +logically, but found it hard in that atmosphere of terror. The utter +weirdness of the whole affair defied analysis. The towing of the +_Vulcan_ by an unknown power was the very climax of the fantastic. +No hypothesis he could form even remotely approached an explanation. + +It could not be some sea monster surging steadily at the tow line of +the _Vulcan_. That theory was untenable. A monster might attack; +it would never tow. + +But any other, attempt to account for the strange predicament fell +equally as flat. What human agency would operate so mysteriously in this +hot, stagnant sea? Why should any group of men entrap the helpless crew +of the _Vulcan_ with such a display of mystery and power? It was +useless. It was ridiculous. It was shooting a mosquito with a field gun. + +All his thoughts ended in utter absurdity. He felt that he had run up +against some vast power. The schooner _Minnie B_, the tug +_Vulcan_, were but trifling units in the enigma of this deserted, +weed-clogged sea. It must be some power whose operations were +ocean-wide. + +Why such a spot should be chosen?--Why a power that sank one ship out of +hand and towed another mile after mile?--Why it operated only at +night?--What lay at the heart of this brooding fabric of terror--he +could not form the slightest conception. Outlawry, piracy, smugglery, +were all goals too small for such operations. + +His thoughts seemed to be physical things trying to clamber up the +smooth polished side of an enormous steel plate. They made not the +slightest progress. The more he thought, the more unaccountable all +phases of the question became. + +In absolute perplexity, he turned to the Englishman at his side. He +could just make out the blur of Caradoc's face. + +"Have you a theory about this, Smith?" he asked in a low voice. + +The Englishman nodded in silence. + +"What is it?" + +"I--I got my head hurt awhile ago. I believe I'm delirious--dreaming." + +Leonard thought this over without any feeling of amusement. "That +doesn't explain why I see it too," he objected gravely. "Nothing wrong +with my head--that I know of." He tried the time honored experiment of +pinching himself. + +"I shall assume that I am awake," he decided after he had felt his +pinch. "I may not be, but I'm going to act as if I were." + +Madden had an impression that Caradoc was smiling in the darkness. Just +then Gaskin began laughing shrilly in a queer metallic voice. + +"Quit that!" snapped half a dozen thick voices at once, as if his +laughter had violently shocked their tense nerves. + +Gaskin pointed a stumpy arm off the starboard bow, "Look! Look!" he +gasped. "It's that rotten whiskey! Whiskey done it! Whiskey made me see +that! Look w'ot whiskey done!" + +Leonard had no idea that anything could be added to the nightmarish +quality of the adventure, but there off the starboard arose a great +bulk, blotting out the stars. It was not a ship; it was not a barge; +there was not a light on it, but it seemed somehow dimly illuminated. It +was as shapeless as death. + +"The Flyin' Dutchman!" shuddered Galton. + +"It burns a blue light!" corrected Hogan with chattering teeth. + +"Th' ship o' the dead!" shivered Mulcher. + +A sudden explanation flashed into Madden's head. "You fools are afraid +of our own dry dock," he whispered briefly. "We've traveled in a circle +and reached the dock again." + +"Oh, no, sor, it ain't that! Tain't th' dry-dock, sor!" aspirated +several fear-struck voices. + +The crew held their breaths as if the apparition might vanish as +suddenly as it appeared. + +By this time the moon lay flat on the sea, throwing a faint shining +streak across the dark Sargasso. This vague light was enough to show +Madden, when he took a close look, that it was not the dock. + +The thing he saw was an enormous mass without the severe angular shape +of the great dock. Its outline rose crude and shapeless, as well as he +could trace it among the canopy of stars, and gave not the slightest +intimation as to what use it could be. + +As they stared, the speed of the _Vulcan_ slackened sensibly. The +faint rippling of water under the prow ceased. The breeze fell away into +a dead blanket of heat. It was as if a sweatbox had been cooped over the +crew. + +"The thing's cut loose from us," said a weary voice. + +Hogan laughed shortly: "Everybody out--fifteen minutes for +refrishmints." + +"Yonder goes that thing!" cried Galton. "Hi can see it!" + +Indeed, by peering carefully, Madden could follow the slender outline of +the mysterious craft that had towed the _Vulcan_ to this uncanny +spot. It had now left the tug and was gliding away to the great +misshapen fabric that sprawled on the sea. + +Every eye strained to see the outcome of this strange maneuver, when +suddenly from the gliding vessel there shot a dazzling light that spread +over the bulky mass. Under the beating illumination every detail of the +huge vessel stood out garishly. She was immense, with a broad flat prow +like a railway ferryboat. She stood high in the water and seemed to have +three promenade decks around her. + +There was no mast, no rigging, no outside gearing. One squat funnel +amidship told that she used steam for some purpose, and out of this +funnel black masses of smoke rose slowly in the motionless air. She +resembled no craft Madden had ever seen. + +Notwithstanding her enormous size, everything about the vessel impressed +Madden that she was built for secrecy. She was squat, considering her +length and breadth. It was as if her designer were trying to make a +craft invisible at sea. As near as Madden could determine in the strange +light, she was painted a pale sky-blue. During the day, no doubt, she +melted into the sky like a chameleon. + +As the smaller craft approached its huge mate, its circle of light +contracted until it finally concentrated into a dazzling white spot +centered on the prow of the monster. This spot diminished to an intense +point, like an electric arc between carbons. A sharp reflection of this +point streaked the water between the tug and the mysterious vessels. + +Then, under the unbelieving eyes of the crew, the little vessel ran +completely into the larger one and was gone. The light vanished +instantly. Utter blackness fell over the dazzled eyes of the watchers. + +There were gasps, explosive curses of bewilderment, amazement. The +little boat had disappeared into the larger. Impossible! Gaskin began +his shrill laughter again. Then he gurgled in the darkness as if +somebody's fingers had clamped his windpipe. + +Madden's mind attacked more violently than ever the incomprehensible +motives behind this inscrutable mystery. What was the key to this +incredible affair? In the midst of his mental struggle, he felt a hand +on his arm, Caradoc said in his ear, + +"What do you say we get in the small boat and pay them a visit?" + +"It's a big risk. I daresay we'll get our heads blown off." + +"I had thought of that," agreed Caradoc. + +"Come on," said the American, and the two moved across the deck to see +if they could still use the dinghy, which had been trailing along all +this time. + +Nearly an hour later, the two boys in the dinghy approached the puzzling +craft with muffled oars. As Madden and Caradoc drew near, the vast size +of the strange ship grew more striking. The faint impression of light +which they had first received grew stronger and Madden saw that the +decks were illuminated by long bands of diffused light, although he +could not guess its origin. + +On the lowest deck, the American made out the small figure of a man +marching back and forth with a gun. + +At this sight, both boys stopped rowing, lifted the oars from tholes and +began paddling noiselessly, canoe-fashion. + +"That must be the accommodation ladder," whispered Madden, "where the +guard is." + +"Who are they afraid will board them?" queried Caradoc. "Mermaids?" + +"It is a strange precaution to take in the Sargasso," agreed the +American. "It is going to make our entrance difficult." + +They ceased paddling now and drifted silently toward the monster. + +"I wonder if they aren't smugglers," hazarded Caradoc, + +"Must be up-to-date, to use submarines--a submarine would defy +detection, wouldn't it?" + +"And rich--nobody but millionaire smugglers could get together all this +paraphernalia." + +"I'll venture insurance is at the bottom of this fraud, Caradoc," +hazarded Madden. "These swindlers insure a cargo, bring it to this +place, reship it, sink the vessel, or repaint and rebuild it, then +collect the insurance money--do you remember the log of the _Minnie +B_?" + +"No, I didn't read it." + +"It stated her cargo had been reshipped--reshipped from the Sargasso. +The entry may have been for the benefit of Davy Jones. Anyway, they are +methodical scoundrels." + +The lads fell silent as the hugeness of this nefarious business +gradually dawned on them. For insurance swindlers and smugglers to work +on such a large scale, very probably the organization branched over the +whole civilized world. This vast shapeless vessel was a spider at the +center of a great network of criminality. + +"Say, the Camorras are mere infants in crime compared to these men," +shuddered Leonard. "I suppose they murder the crews--drown 'em." + +"They would have to get 'em out of the way somehow." + +"Then Malone and all the tug's crew are..." + +There was an expressive silence. + +After a while Caradoc whispered, "Well, shall we try to get aboard?" + +"Wouldn't do any good." + +"It won't do any good to stay here." + +"No, we can't hide on the tug always, and we can't run her engines. +_You_ don't know anything about marine engines, do you, Caradoc?" + +"Very little. I couldn't run one." + +For several minutes, the two adventurers sat in silence, watching the +small erect figure of the guard pace and repace his short path. +Presently Madden said: + +"I've thought of one chance, Caradoc, to escape being starved or +murdered." + +"Yes, what's that?" + +"It--it's almost too wild to propose, but it's all I can think of. As +far as I know it's absolutely our last chance." + +"Go on, go on," urged the Englishman impatiently. "I don't know of any +way out whatever." + +"If we could slip aboard there and--and--well, kidnap somebody who knows +how to run our engines, bring him back to the tug, fire up and make a +race to South America--but there's no sense to a scheme like that. +Captain Kidd himself wouldn't be up to it." + +A long silence followed this ultimatum, then Caradoc said, "Oh, it's +possible, I suppose. The mathematical formula of possibility would work +out about ten million chances to one that we lose." + +"Yes, I know it's risky." + +"And how do you hope to get in past that guard?" + +"We'll have to climb up the ladder right under him, hang there until he +is on his up-deck walk, then swing inside and when he turns around we +could be simply strolling up the deck toward him. There must be a lot of +fellows on such a big ship. Maybe he doesn't know them all." + +"Why do you want to stroll _toward_ him?" + +"Because if he saw us walking off in the other direction, he would know +we had not passed him, and so we must have come up the ladder." + +Caradoc shook his head in the darkness. "I'm going to try to jump on +that guard when he turns his back, and down him." + +"He'd give an alarm sure. We mustn't disturb him till we get ready to +leave, then let him yell." + +"What you are planning, Madden, is simply impossible. I like to be as +conservative as possible." + +"We can turn around and row back to the _Vulcan_--and starve." + +"Go ahead to the accommodation ladder. However, it's impossible." + +As the two moved silently nearer a murmur of machinery in the vast +fabric came to them. As their tiny boat swung in beside the high hull, +they could hear this noise quite plainly, and they trusted to this +rumble to screen their operations somewhat. They ceased paddling and +allowed the dinghy to drift against the iron side of the vessel. They +could no longer see the deck and the guard, owing to the swell in the +high metal wall. But presently they came to the rope ladder which they +anticipated hung below the guard's station. + +Madden caught this and tied the dinghy to it with the crawly feeling of +a man who expects to have a gun fired at him the next moment. + +Caradoc came up and the two adventurers stood in the boat's prow, both +holding to the ladder. + +"I'll bet that scoundrel shoots down," whispered Leonard, "before we get +halfway up." + +"Don't talk so loud--are you ready to try it?" + +"What are you going to do--jump on him?" breathed Leonard. + +"No, your plan. If you see he is going to shoot you before you get +inside, jump backwards and dive." + +"And remember to go far enough out not to hit the dinghy." + +"Good." + +Madden stared up into the mysterious vessel, caught the ladder and swung +himself silently onto the rungs. Caradoc mounted close behind him. They +had mounted only two or three steps, when a sudden terrific report +thundered above their heads. + +It was so unexpected, so violent, that the two boys almost tumbled into +the sea. The next instant they found themselves wrapped in an atmosphere +of hot, stifling steam. They clung to the rungs in a veritable +steam-bath that roared and plunged around them. When Madden collected +his senses, he realized that it was merely a safety discharge from the +boilers. The main steam pressure did not strike them, but they swung in +the hot wet fringe of the exhaust. Had they been ten feet farther aft, +they would surely have been boiled to death. As it was they were +immersed in uncomfortably hot vapor. + +They clung, rather unnerved by the uproar, enduring the heat for four or +five minutes, when suddenly an idea occurred to Madden. He leaned down +to Caradoc and shouted in his ear. + +"How about going up now? Couldn't see us in this steam." + +For reply, Caradoc shoved his friend upward, and so they scrambled aloft +like two monkeys. + +Fortunately for them, the night was windless and the white steam drifted +straight up and as it rose, it spread out in an impenetrable fog. +Cloaked in this vapor, the two adventurers scrambled up some thirty-five +feet to the first deck. The steam was thick inside the rail. Covered by +the noisy shriek of the exhaust, they jumped inside the promenade +without being heard or seen, and a moment later, they dropped arm in +arm, like two casual strollers, and moved up deck. + +Two minutes later, when the roaring exhaust had ceased and the vapor had +cleared away, the guard with the gun could never have guessed that the +two men he saw slowly promenading the deck had drifted over the rail, +out of the night, with the clouds of the noisy exhaust. + +Neither of the lads so much as glanced at the sentinel as they strolled +past him. Caradoc was saying in the low tones men use when conversing in +the darkness: + +"Do you suppose that fellow knows anything about engines?" + +And Madden replied just as confidentially, as he sized the gun man up +out of the tail of his eye, "No, I'm sure he doesn't. An engineer never +has to stand guard." + +"How are we ever going to spot an engineer?" + +For the first time since starting, a little thrill of the joy of +adventure crept into Madden's heart. He felt like a ferret venturing +into a rat's den. + +"Why you can tell an engineer easily," he murmured. "You've seen 'em, +oily fellows, with black smudges." + +"That describes a fireman, too." + +"No, a fireman's not so oily and is more cindery--then we'll know one by +his cap." + +"Certainly," breathed Smith. "I hadn't thought of that." + +Notwithstanding his danger, Madden could not help smiling as he moved +along after the fashion of a careless stroller, when he was really +keenly alert for a man with an engineer's cap. + +The two youths were walking up a long deck, dimly lighted by small +incandescent bulbs placed on the inner surface of the outside stanchions +about thirty feet apart. Each bulb was carefully blinded from the ocean +by a sheath, which confined its glowworm radiance exclusively to the +promenade. On the inboard side were a long series of port holes, +likewise hooded from observation. Some were aglow, others dark. + +The deck, rails, cabin walls, ports, hoods, joists of the top-deck were +newly washed and scrupulously clean. Fifty yards up-deck, where +perspective and the sheer of the ship gave the promenade the appearance +of a long, up-curved tunnel, the boys caught sight of a gang of men +scrubbing down deck. A little beyond the scrubbing gang, some garments +fluttered on a line drying in the night air. + +As they drew nearer, Madden perceived they were muscular men, with faces +bronzed by tropic sunshine. Some of their necks and cheeks were peeling, +as if from sunburn. On the whole they had a healthy, hearty appearance +that fitted in badly with Madden's theory of murderers and thieves. +Instead of a piratical aspect, the promenade bore a strong resemblance +to a deck scene on some crack transatlantic liner, except for the +blinded lights and ports and the armed guard. + +The wanderers passed the scrub gang without trouble and came to the +drying laundry. The number of these shirts and trousers and under +clothing suggested the hulk must contain a large number of men. If these +men _were_ smugglers and insurance swindlers, they had systematized +their life after rigid military discipline. + +They moved through the laundry with fading hopes of kidnapping an +engineer from such a formidable institution, when they were startled by +a human laugh. It sounded in their ears and was as unexpected as a +shriek in church. For an instant they thought they were apprehended. +Then they understood the sound came from one of the lighted ports. + +They moved softly among the shirts and trousers until they reached the +suspected port. Inside they heard a very trivial conversation in +English. + +"I'm after that jack of yours, Captain Cleghorne," declared a thick +voice with a laugh. + +"I played low, remember that," + +A silence, then a burst of laughter. + +"He ran that jick over your king!" + +Leonard stood beside the port blind making a tantalizing effort to +recall something. Where had he heard the name "Cleghorne?" He repeated +it mentally several times. + +"Cleghorne, Cleghorne----" of a sudden it came to him. He had never +heard it, but had seen it framed in the license that hung in the chart +room of the schooner, _Minnie B_. + +With a heart thumping against his ribs at this strange and amazing +coincidence, the American ducked his head carefully under the port hood +and looked in. + +For a moment his eyes were blinded by electric lights. Then he observed +a group of men sitting around a table playing cards. They were in +obviously comfortable spirits, nothing criminal or warlike. One was a +long cadaverous figure that suggested to Madden, Cleghorne, the Yankee +commander of the _Minnie B_. + +When his eyes strayed across the table to Cleghorne's partner, Leonard's +knees almost crumpled in surprise. He was looking at the old commander +of the floating dock, Mate Malone. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +CARADOC TAKES COMMAND + + +Notwithstanding that Madden's head was under the hood, Caradoc sensed +the fact that his friend had experienced some profound shock. + +"What's the matter? What's wrong?," he whispered from the outside. + +"The mate--the mate of the _Vulcan_ is in there!" gasped the +American. + +"Impossible!" Smith dived under the hood for himself. + +Both heads just managed to squeeze in and the two men stared at Malone +as if he were raised from the grave. The mate, however, was not +funereal. He seemed in the pink of condition, rather fatter than he had +been on the dock, and he wore the pleased expression of a man well +content with life. + +As men will do when under a fixed stare, he presently glanced about and +his eyes fell on the porthole. He looked at the dim port for several +seconds intently, as if he could not quite make out their faces. Madden +frowned, jerked his head up and down in a signal for Malone to approach. + +The mate's little eyes went round at the request. He made a surprised +gesture to his partner, scrambled to his feet and drew near. The whole +cabin followed his motions. + +"W'ot is it?" he whispered, still peering into the half-faces seen in +the round hole. + +"Madden and Smith." + +"_W'ot_!" + +"Yes." + +"Great sharks! W'ot you lads doin' 'ere?" + +"Came off the tug--what is this?" + +"W'ot is w'ot?" + +"This ship we're on?" + +It seemed as if Malone's little eyes would pop out of his head. + +"W'ot--didn't they ketch you? You don't mean to say you--you jest +straggled aboard?" + +"Sure we did. Catch us? Who is there to catch us?" + +Malone stared as if at two ghosts. "Say! Say!" he said hoarsely. "You +don't mean to say you ain't caught? You don't mean you run th' tug up +'ere an' boarded us! You don't mean----" He turned and whispered +hoarsely inside: "It's th' lads off th' dock, though 'ow they got 'ere, +an' w'ot they're--douse th' light, some o' you fellows." + +A stifled consternation seized the card players, who crowded up to the +port. A moment later all the lights were snapped out one after another. + +"Tell us who there was to catch us," begged Leonard in a whisper. + +"Who? W'y a German warship, that's who! One caught us--an' Cap +Cleghorne. Caught th' Cap away hup on th' Newfoundland Banks. Caught us +first day----" + +"Why should a German warship capture _us_!" demanded Leonard in a +voice that threatened to rise in excitement. + +"Quiet! Quiet! 'Eavens, lad! Don't you know? Ain't you 'eard? W'y it's +war! War! War's broke out all over th' world! Everyw'ere! Ever'body!" + +"War!" gasped Madden. + +"War! What countries?" demanded Smith in an excited whisper. + +"Hall countries! Hingland, France, Rooshia, Japan, that's one side, an' +Germany and Austria on th' other." + +"America in it?" demanded Madden. + +"Right enough. Canada is sendin' troops and----" + +"America! America! The United States of America!" + +"Oh, no, she's the only nootral in th' whole world among th' big powers! +But she'll be in soon enough!" + +"What's this we're on?" inquired Caradoc. "It isn't a warship?" + +"Kind o' warship. It's a mother ship for submarines--sort of floatin' +dry dock for the little sneakers. She takes 'em aboard, over'auls 'em, +gives 'em new stores and torpedoes." + +"England at war!" repeated Caradoc in a maze. "I must get out of here!" + +"That's th' word, war!" whispered Malone thickly. "They say Hingland's +got a tight blockade aroun' th' German ports, so th' German cruisers +bring their prizes here in th' Sargasso, load all the prize stores they +capture out o' Hinglish bottoms into submarines an' run it into Germany +_under_ th' blockade. See? That's w'y this mother ship is 'ere. She +fixes 'em up at this end for their run back." + +Malone told all this in a hoarse breath. + +"What do they do with their prisoners--keep them here?" + +"No, ship 'em to German East Africa an' intern 'em. The _Prince +Eitel_ is due 'ere tomorrow to ship us." + +So that was the explanation of all this mystery--War! + +Madden fell silent with the sensation of a man who had lost his footing +on earth. All his life he had been accustomed to peace. He thought of +wars as small affairs that broke out now and then in South America or +when the American Indians got hold of whiskey. But for Germany, France, +England to fight, to hurl millions of men at each other! It was +inconceivable! + +The boy's brain felt numb as if crushed beneath an enormous horror. The +world was at war! + +Unless a person actually witness a murder, he cannot imagine the shock +and dreadfulness of seeing one man shot down, writhe, gasp, grow pale +and cease struggling. To picture ten men murdered simply stuns the mind. +An effort to realize hundreds, thousands, millions of men mangled, +wounded, bayoneted, crushed, blown to atoms by shells and mine--all this +becomes vague, formless, a dim, dreadful picture that is as unreal as a +dream, or history. + +"What caused it?" asked Madden in a strained tone. + +"I don't know," whispered the mate huskily. "They say it all started +because an anarchist killed an Austrian prince, but I don't believe +it--that sounds too onreasonable for me." + +"What has an Austrian prince to do with the rest of the nations?" + +"I told you I don't believe it!" repeated the mate. + +Madden felt impotent at the conclusion of the narrative. As long as he +had conceived himself to be attacking a force of pirates and thieves, he +was ready to board this great vessel, hunt for an engineer, or attempt +any desperate scheme. But now when he learned that men were being +murdered, goods stolen, ships scuttled, in accordance with a kind of +wild law, called rules of war, he no longer knew what to do. The world +was mad. Its people were murdering each other. + +He finally said aloud to Caradoc: "I suppose we may as well hunt up the +commanding officer, surrender ourselves and sail for Africa with the +others." + +"No," interrupted Smith, "don't do that." Then he called softly inside, +"Malone!" + +"Well, w'ot is it?" inquired the mate gruffly, for he persevered in his +dislike of Smith. + +"Look sharp, Malone! I am an officer in the English navy--it is my right +and duty to assume command of all English seamen in case of war!" + +A blank silence followed this remarkable assumption of authority. The +tone in which it was whispered prevented any doubts in the minds of his +hearers. + +"Do you understand?" inquired Caradoc in a sharp undertone. + +"Yes, sir," replied the mate doggedly. + +"How many men have you in there?" + +"Eleven Hinglishmen, sir." + +"I assume responsibility for those men. From now on accept orders from +me!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Pass the word around. I am going to hand in some German uniforms +through this port. Let every man put on a uniform!" + +"Very well, sir!" came the dismayed reply. + +Caradoc withdrew his head from the hood. In the faint gleam from the +outside incandescents, he fell to untying the strings by which the suits +were leashed to the lines. He handed eleven suits to Madden, who passed +them under the hood and Malone received them inside. Then Smith +deliberately stripped off his own clothes and drew on a pair of German +trousers. + +"Get on a pair, Madden," he advised. "Civilian trousers will be +conspicuous in a bright light. You are going to see this thing through, +aren't you?" + +Madden nodded and followed his companion's example. Five minutes later +the two, transformed into German sailors, walked out of the hanging +laundry. + +"Don't seem, to observe anything," whispered Caradoc. "Appear to be +going somewhere, on an errand. Walk just as if you belonged aboard." + +A moment later the Briton turned down a stairway that led to a shadowy +deck, which was hung with long rows of hammocks with men sleeping in +them. The air down here was remarkably cool, although Madden did not +have time to give much thought to this. Caradoc pursued his way +unhesitatingly among the sleeping sailors, and presently came to another +hatchway, out of which poured the rumble of machinery and a stream of +light. + +Down this flight of steps, Smith moved with certainty, and a moment +later Madden saw they were entering a great machine shop. A full +complement of men worked at every lathe, table, drill or saw. The clang +of hammers, the guttering of drills, the whine of steel planes smote his +ears in a cheerful din of labor. The laborers worked at their tasks with +that peculiar flexibility of forearms, wrists, fingers that mark skilled +machinists. The scent of lubricating oil the faint tang of metal dust +filled the air. Strange to say, the air down here was even cooler than +that in the sleeping deck above. + +All sorts of queer tasks were progressing. Here, men were working on +gyroscopes that fitted into the shells of torpedoes; there, they +fabricated little hot-air engines which propelled those instruments of +destruction. They were repairing gauges, steam connections, electrical +fittings, what not. + +Madden was tempted to pause and stare about this wondershop, when it +occurred to him that if he and Caradoc were discovered they would be +executed as spies. He had not thought of this before, and the mere +suggestion somehow made him feel stiff and wooden. He was not +frightened, but he felt clumsy, as a schoolboy does when he makes his +first public speech. His arms and legs felt wooden; his head did not +seem to sit in a natural manner on his neck. He felt that if anyone +glanced at him, he would immediately betray himself. His walk, his looks +showed it. He could not imagine why some workman did not leap out, seize +his arm and yell "Spy!" + +After a long stage-frightened walk, Caradoc turned down another flight +of stairs. Here Madden discovered the secret of the cool air. On this +deck was a big refrigerating plant, with frost-covered pipes leading in +all directions. The sight of this plant gave Madden some faint insight +into the thorough preparation made by the German government to carry on +their struggle by sea. Long before war was declared, Germany must have +planned a naval base in the Sargasso, and have foreseen the use of her +submarines in evading the blockade. She had chosen these untraveled seas +as a depot, then established a refrigerated machine shop in order that +the full-blooded German might work comfortably in the tropics. The plan +seemed to have been worked out with infinite detail. + +From the refrigeration deck, they descended to still another deck into +the very bowels of the ship. This descent brought them to a long gallery +that was formed by a bulkhead running down the center of the ship. As +they entered this passage, three workmen came out of a small steel door +that opened into this central wall. One of the workmen carefully +rebolted the door, yawned sleepily and followed his comrades toward the +companionway. As he passed he grunted something to Caradoc. Madden's +heart beat faster lest they should be discovered at this last hour. He +had no idea what mission moved the Englishman, but he sensed that here +was his destination. Smith made some reply in German, moved briskly +ahead until he came to the small steel door. He laid his hand familiarly +upon the bolts, shot them back, swung open the door. One of the men +whirled about and stared back at this assured intruder. Smith stood +aside and with a curt military gesture motioned Madden to enter. The +American drew an uncertain breath, glanced at the three Germans out of +the tail of his eye and stepped into the dark square. Caradoc followed +him. The laborers went on updeck apparently satisfied. + +An electric wire was let in through the door. Caradoc reached for it, +followed it with his hand and presently turned a switch. Next moment a +bright flood of light bathed the tubular chamber in which they stood. + +Madden glanced about. He stood in a room whose roof formed a half circle +over his head. The place seemed as full of machinery as a watch case. +Fore and aft were circular partitions of steel, like drumheads. These +were penetrated with sliding shutters, which stood open. Through the +after shutter, Madden saw a large Deisel oil engine, flanked by a +compact heavy dynamo. Looking forward, he could see steel cylinders +trimmed in shining brass, and a maze of levers, gauges, dials, valves. + +The central compartment in which the two stood was dominated by a little +spiral stairway leading up into a steel dome. On a shelf set in the +bulkhead was a chart, a telephone receiver, speaking tubes, dials with +red and black hands, an array of electrometers, pressure gauges. + +Glancing up the stairway into the little dome, Madden saw a pilot wheel, +more levers and speaking tubes and telephone receivers, and a square of +ground glass, that was lined off with delicate cross-lines. + +"Where are we?" asked Madden, amazed. "What do they do here? I never saw +so much machinery before in so small a space." + +Caradoc was stooping over a heavy metal box down at the floor level at +the side of the desk. It was one of a series of such boxes. "We're +inside of that submarine you saw enter a few hours ago," explained the +Englishman shortly. + +Leonard stared around with new eyes. "So this is a submarine! Do you +know anything about them? What's that spirit level for?" He pointed at a +horizontal gauge. + +"Measures air pressure--it's not a level." + +"What's in these steel tanks overhead?" + +"Compressed air." + +"What's that you are getting into?" Here Caradoc lifted the lid, and +Madden got a view. "Say, that's a torpedo, isn't it?" he asked quickly +as he saw a long needle-pointed steel cigar with propeller and rudder on +the aft end. + +The Englishman made no reply. He leaned over and selected a small steel +crowbar from a tool locker, drew it out with a quick nervous movement. + +"Say!" cried Madden catching the strange expression on the face of his +friend, "are you going to try to launch this and escape on it--escape on +a torpedo?" + +A mirthless smile flickered over the Englishman's gray face. "Nothing so +fanciful." + +A sixteen foot torpedo lay in a steel frame on a runway, just ready to +slide forward into the big expulsion tube that was the salient feature +of the forward compartment. Caradoc walked quickly to the nose of the +terrific missile. He looked at his friend and said in a strange voice: +"Madden, I'm going to wipe this German ship-trap off the map!" + +A sort of spasm clutched the American's diaphragm. "You don't mean----" +he managed to gasp. + +"Yes, this is for----" He swung up his crowbar. + +Madden on the other side the gasoline-scented chamber had a sensation as +if someone had jabbed keen needles into his throat, breast, stomach. + +"Caradoc! Don't! Don't!" he screamed and leaped toward the desperate +man. + +It was all done at once. + +"For England!" completed Caradoc Smith, and fetched down a furious +doubled-handed blow on the primer of the big steel chamber packed with +guncotton. + +The crowbar landed with a crash! + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE GET-AWAY + + +Both lads leaned against the machinery, limp, dripping cold +perspiration. Caradoc was the first to speak. + +"Didn't have its war head in!" + +Leonard mumbled something through the slime in his mouth. + +"I ought to find the connection and explode it," repeated Caradoc +doggedly. + +Madden moved weakly over beside him. "No you won't. You aren't going to +murder us all... not going to do it!" + +Caradoc remained motionless, his long face gray under the electric +lights. "I fail--at everything," he mumbled. + +Leonard sat down on the edge of the torpedo case and looked at the long, +slender destroyer. He had a watery feeling, as if just arising from a +long illness. + +"Let's get out of here," he breathed. + +"Wait... we must seem normal. You--you look blue--spotted." + +"I feel blue and spotted. I was scared--never was so scared in all my +life." + +"Sit here till you get over your j-jolt." + +"What are you going to do?" asked the American apprehensively as Smith +arose. + +"I must disable this machinery and give the tug a chance to escape." + +"Still got that in your head?" + +"I must do _something_--I ought to explode that torpedo!" + +"You're not going to do that, Caradoc. You're not! I have no--no +appetite to be a martyr." + +The Englishman made no reply, but began moving around among the +machinery with the crowbar. Leonard stirred himself to follow. + +"You--you're not up to anything--not going to blow us up?" + +"No, I'm not going to blow you up. That's my word." + +Oddly enough, Madden accepted it very simply, and went back and sat on +the torpedo case. He fell to stroking the smooth steel flank of the +thing as if it were some animal. The thing had, as it were, refused to +blow him to bits at Smith's request. + +The Englishman walked about busily, thrusting his bar in among dial +connections, snapping brass pipes, wrecking the telephone connections. +He laid about him viciously, knocking, crashing, smashing. Then he +hurried back into the rear compartment, knocked to pieces the bearings +and valves of the Deisel engine, tangled up the wiring of the storage +batteries and the dynamo, beat off her brushes, disrupted the clutch on +the crank shaft. + +It was shocking to Madden to see Caradoc smash and destroy such delicate +and costly machinery. He went about his task with a kind of bottled +ferocity, and in a short time the submarine looked as if it had let +loose a cyclone. Presently the youth paused in his vandalism and glanced +about with satisfaction. + +"All right," he said in a more normal tone, "if you are ready to go, get +a wrench and a cold-chisel, smudge your face with a little oil and iron +black, and we'll get away from here." + +Madden saw the importance of completing his disguise in this manner. He +splotched his face, found the tools indicated by Smith in the locker, +then walked out through the manhole into the passageway once more. + +There was no one in sight as they came out. They passed up through the +cool refrigerating room and through the machine shop with its contented +workmen. Madden wondered how those men would feel if they knew that a +few minutes past, they were hanging on the fringe of eternity. + +The two smudged tool-bearers, who walked rather shakily to the upper +deck, did not even provoke a questioning glance from the workmen. A few +minutes later the boys emerged once more from the sleeping deck onto the +boat deck. It was still deserted save for the solitary guard who paced +back and forth in stiff military fashion. + +Caradoc moved down to the hanging laundry and paused under the port +hood. He tapped it gently. From the interior came Malone's thick +whisper. Smith passed in the tools and whispered. + +"Force the door open gently. Walk out as if you were sailors. Close the +door and pretend to lock it. Meet me out here at the head of the ship's +ladder, where the guard is stationed." + +"Very well, sir," came a whisper. + +Then Madden and Smith strolled on down toward the man with the gun. As +they walked, Smith whispered: + +"When you hear me clear my throat, get within striking distance. When I +cough, silence him. I'll help you." + +Madden nodded slightly, and the two drew near the pacing guard. Caradoc +lifted hand to forehead as they passed and a little later seated +themselves on the rail near the ladder. Madden looked down curiously and +thought he could make out the shape of the dinghy below, but was not +certain. + +The American's nerves still tingled from the torpedo incident, and now +he glanced out of the tail of his eye at the guard, whom he would +probably have to fight. + +The fellow was a broad-chested, short-necked German, armed with rifle +and bayonet. The bayonet had a bluish gleam under the incandescent. + +It was a queer thought to Madden to know that within the next fifteen +minutes, he would perhaps be under rifle fire, rowing or swimming away +through the black night, or he might be dead. Dead, and the world would +end for him, and the war of the world or the peace of the world would be +all the same for him. + +Madden shrugged his shoulders, drew a long breath and stared out in the +direction of the _Vulcan_. He could see nothing of the tug. The +moon had sunk and the stars burned with a more vivid fire. The musing +boy noted the position of the Hydra, and fancied it might be somewhere +near midnight. Just then his guess was confirmed by four double strokes +of the bell. There would be a change of guards. Perhaps the next man +would not be so unsuspecting. + +Just then Madden observed another deck gang coming up the promenade. He +wondered how often they scrubbed deck on this vessel. He hoped this crew +would soon pass, as it would make escape impossible if their men made a +break while the sweepers were in hearing. Their slow approach made him +nervous. Suppose one of them suspected something wrong? + +Just then Caradoc yawned and cleared his throat. Madden looked around at +his friend with a slight start. The Englishman did not see the +approaching sailors. Madden frowned conspicuously, but Smith's long face +was placid, and he cleared his throat again. + +The guard was now about to pass Madden. The American shifted his legs +slightly for a position to jump, nevertheless frowning warningly at +Caradoc. The scrubbers were fairly close now. Caradoc arose negligently +and coughed. + +In the teeth of the scrub gang, Madden leaped headlong at the guard and +his fingers gripped the man's throat. At the same instant, Caradoc +ducked under his legs. As the foremost of the scrub gang wrenched the +rifle from the guard's hands, Madden saw with joy that they were Malone +and his men. The three fell with a dull thumping on the deck. The guard +tore at Madden's fingers which crushed in his throat. From underneath, +Caradoc panted in sharp whispers: + +"Overboard! Down the ladder! Quick!" + +As he snapped out his orders, the Englishman was working his hold up +past the floundering guard's waist. Madden's grip was about to break +under the strain the Teuton put on it, but his fingers clung desperately +to the fellow's throat, for one shout would bring a hornet's nest around +the fugitives. Just then Malone whispered hoarsely: + +"They're all overboard, sir." + +Leonard caught the soft stir of oars in the water below. + +"Shall Hi stick 'im, sir?" whispered Malone, grabbing the guard's +bayoneted rifle. "Yonder, comes the new guard!" + +Caradoc, who had been willing to blow up a whole shipful of men, panted +out a sharp "No!" Just then the Englishman's long fingers slipped up on +the tendons that ran down the guard's neck from his ears. He pinched +them sharply. The struggling man suddenly gasped and lay still. Caradoc +leaped to his feet. Madden scrambled up. Both were dripping with sweat. +A man with a rifle was running down the deck toward them. The fellow +raised his rifle. + +"Overboard!" gasped Caradoc and took a sudden leap over the rail into +the night. Madden followed, trusting not to hit the dinghy and kill +himself. Malone was already scrambling down the rope ladder as fast as +he could go. + +While a dive of one or two hundred feet is not uncommon, still Madden's +thirty-five foot drop sent chill tickly sensations through his chest and +throat. It seemed as if he would never stop falling through the +darkness, but at last he struck the water and went down, down, down. + +When he finally kicked himself back to the surface and thrust his head +out, he heard a violent whispering among the excited boatmen. A moment +later an oar struck him under the armpit. Madden seized it, whispered +his own name and scuttled in over the gunwale. The men were shoving +desperately at the ship's side in an effort to get the dinghy under way. + +From the deck overhead came guttural shouts in German and fainter +answers. Fortunately the guard did not take upon himself the +responsibility of shooting down into the boat, and in a minute or two +the refugees had assembled the oars and were rowing furiously from the +mother ship. + +In the dim zone of light that belted the promenade, Madden could see a +number of hurrying figures. Then came a sharp command, and a rifle +stabbed the darkness with a knife of fire and a keen report. + +Immediately came another, then another, then several. Bullets chucked +viciously into the water about the dinghy. + +Under the straining arms of four oarsmen the little boat moved briskly +out of its perilous position. Jammed between two sailors, the boy sat +staring back at the men gathering on the promenade. The flashing of many +rifles kept a constant streak of light along a considerable section of +the deck. Bullets seemed to whine within an inch of his ears. The dinghy +appeared to be retreating at a snail's pace, and the frightened boy +gripped furiously at the gunwale in an absurd effort to speed it up. He +twisted about, trying to keep his shoulders in a line with the flashing +rifles so as to offer the thinnest target. A man in the stern of the +dinghy groaned, and slumped down into the bottom. + +Just then a searchlight leaped into play from the top deck of the ship. +Its long ray shot out in a trembling cone through the darkness. It +switched here and there with appalling swiftness. The crew in the little +boat stared at it, holding their breaths. When that leaping ray fell on +the dinghy it would be followed by a rain of steel. + +The firing on the promenade deck ceased, Waiting for the searchlight to +direct their aim. Just then the beam fell on the _Vulcan_ with +dazzling brilliance. The tug stood out sharply against the night, and +she proved to be much closer than Leonard had fancied. The little +rowboat had been traveling faster than he thought. + +Then the brilliant circle left the tug and, began crawling carefully +over the water toward the dinghy. + +The crew stared at the approaching light as stricken birds in a snake's +cage. Just then Caradoc said in a low tone. "Let every man slide into +the water and swim for the _Vulcan_." + +The men in the stern slipped into the sea first with muffled splashes. +The men amidship climbed over the side and went in headfirst. The +oarsmen shipped their oars and took the water. Madden made a long dive +over the side and shot well away from the little boat. When he came up, +he looked around. The fringe of light was just playing on the bow when +Caradoc leaped. According to English traditions, he was the last man to +leave his vessel, even though it were only a dinghy. + +An instant later, a queer metallic ripping sound broke out in the mother +ship. Madden looked back quickly. From the top deck there was a jet of +fire, as if someone were turning a hose of flame in the direction of the +small boat. Leonard looked back at the dinghy. It appeared as if the ray +of light were beating the little vessel into splinters. It seemed to +crumble into itself, to wither, to go to dust, and the water beneath it +beat up in a froth through its shattered hull. + +A head bobbed up near Madden, and Caradoc's voice observed collectedly. + +"They're chewing it up with a machine gun. You'd better dive +again--travel most of the way to the tug under water. They'll be picking +us up, one at a time, in a moment, with the same stream of steel." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +NERVE VERSUS GUNPOWDER + + +Fifteen minutes later a dozen men were kicking exhaustedly in the water +on the port side of the _Vulcan_, shouting in urgent voices for +ropes. A few were already clambering up the bobstays. There was no reply +from the utterly terrorized men on the tug, then came the whiz of +missiles thrown through the air. + +"Hogan! Mulcher! Galton! Ropes! Give us your ladder!" bawled Madden at +the top of his authority. + +"Is--is that you, Misther Madden?" chattered Hogan. + +"Yes, yes, ropes, before we drown!" + +"Was that you shootin' at us over there?" + +"They were shooting at _us_! They hit two or three of us! Hurry!" + +"And who's all that wid ye? Faith, the wather's alive wid min!" + +"We're the crew of th' _Vukan_!" "Throw down ropes!" "Shut up and +throw down ropes, ye bloody Irishman!" howled an angry chorus. + +"Th' crew o' th' _Vulcan_, and thim all dead, these weeks ago! Sure +if it's a lot o' ghosts----" + +But others of the crew summoned enough courage to fling down aid to +their old comrades, and soon the men came crawling up the dark sides of +the tug and dropped limply inboard. + +The utmost excitement played over the crew of the dock when they +identified the former crew of the _Vulcan_. The air was full of +excited questions and tired answers, but presently the word got out. It +was "War." The news passed from mouth to mouth and grew in +portentousness. War! Nations were at war! These men had escaped from a +German warship! + +It was unbelievable. It was stunning. Presently Caradoc shouted out in +the darkness for Malone, Mate Malone. The cockney answered. + +"Put your firemen at the furnace! Set your engineers to work on the +engines. We must have steam up and be away in an hour!" + +The two crews fell into silence, and Malone ordered his men below. Some +of the dock's crew hurried off with the others to cut down coal in the +bunkers. Another gang fell to work; pulling in the sea anchor. But over +all their various activities hovered the vast consternation of war. + +Caradoc had climbed to the bridge of the _Vulcan_ and stood staring +silently at the bulk of the mother ship that was barely discernible +through the night. The searchlight had been switched off. Neither ship +showed a signal. From below came the muffled sounds of men working at +the furnace, and in five or ten minutes a film of smoke trickled out of +the _Vulcan's_ great funnel. + +Madden climbed up on the bridge beside Caradoc. + +"How long before the submarine will be out?" he asked in a low tone. + +"Small boats will come first," replied Smith. "That's why they shunted +off the searchlight--to surprise us." + +"Will they try to board us?" + +"Certainly. We'll have to defend ourselves with anything we can pick up, +sticks, knives, hand spikes--" + +At that moment Malone appeared from the other end of the bridge. + +"We'll have steam up in an hour," he announced, glancing up at the +funnel. + +"An hour?" thought Madden. "That's time enough for us all to be killed." + +Caradoc said to the mate: "Go forward and tell the men to arm +themselves, then take position along the rail to repel boarders. Tell +them to look sharp for grappling hooks and throw them down." + +"And what will they arm with, sir?" + +"Use anything you can find, hand spikes, knives, sticks. They might +throw lumps of coal. A cricket player ought to give a good account with +a lump of coal." + +"Very well, sir," grunted Malone and he hurried down on deck. + +A few minutes later the men were scurrying around to their positions. +One or two men had gone down for a sack of coal, a queer ammunition that +might possibly effect something. On the other hand, Leonard knew the +attacking force would come armed with mausers, rapid fire guns, +grappling hooks, swords. A onesided fight was brewing. + +The American looked anxiously at the funnel; a ribbon of black smoke +filtered out into the air. + +"Madden," said Caradoc, "they will make the hardest fight around the +anchor ports and amidships. Which position do you prefer to defend?" + +"I believe I'll take the forecastle." + +"Good, I wish you luck." + +"Same to you." + +As Madden moved down the ladder to the deck, he heard, above the murmur +of the busy men, the strong measured beat of a ship's cutter approaching +the tug with deliberate swiftness. + +There were some good men stationed to defend the forecastle, Hogan, +Mulcher, Greer and two or three of the _Vulcan's_ former crew whom +Madden did not know. As the American approached in the gloom, two men +came up, laden with sacks, and poured out a pile of coal on deck. Every +lump was about the size of a baseball. + +Hogan recognized Madden in the darkness. He was exuberant now that he +had learned his enemies were human beings and not ghouls. + +"Do ye think those Dutchmen will be able to put up a daycent foight, +Misther Madden?" he inquired hopefully. + +"They have plenty of arms, Hogan." + +"Sure, that'll hilp 'em some. But Oi'm going to knock th' head off the +spalpeen that firrust sticks his mug over that rail." + +"Your chance is coming," said Madden soberly, as he listened to the +increasing noise of the oars. + +"Now, men," directed the American, "lie flat down behind the rail and +use your sticks and hand pikes to prize off grapnels. They will shoot +your hands." + +"Very well, sor," breathed several voices. + +The noise of the oars grew louder until it sounded immediately beneath +the defenders. Hogan stood up suddenly, leaned over the rail with a lump +of coal in each hand, and threw down viciously. There was a whack as one +lump hit the boat, and a grunt as the other struck some man. In return +came a terrific crash of rifles, and bullets spattered the iron plates +of the _Vulcan_. Fortunately Hogan had flopped down on deck in +time. + +At that instant, the searchlight of the mother ship swept the +_Vulcan's_ deck with startling brilliance. The first volley had +perhaps been the signal, and the fight was on. + +There came a clanging of grapnels on the rail over the crouching +defenders. Madden flung down the one nearest him, but others came flying +through the air to take its place. The prostrate men worked busily +dislodging the flukes. The fusillade from below prevented their getting +on their knees, and they were forced to lie on their backs as they +worked at the hooks. It seemed some sort of queer game: the attackers +flinging up scaling irons, the defenders flipping them down. Madden had +dislodged two or three, when Mulcher cried out for help. + +The enemy had succeeded in catching a fluke on the rail, and putting so +much weight on it that the cockney could not prize it off. Immediately +Hogan and another defender crawled to Mulcher's aid like big lizards. +They thrust in sticks and spikes and prized vigorously, while the +bullets were drumming on the plates outside. + +It stuck and Leonard started to their aid, when a hook in his own +territory demanded his attention. Just then a head came up over the rail +just above Hogan and Mulcher. The German had turned his automatic on the +defenders when Hogan's shillalah caught him on the temple. He reeled +backwards, his pistol spitting into the air. He knocked down the whole +line of men below him amid crashings, shoutings and splashings in the +water below. The moment the weight was off, Mulcher loosed the grapnel +and flung it down into the confusion. + +The hail of bullets was immediately renewed, and more hooks came flying +over. The iron rails rang like a boiler shop, and the steel missiles +glanced off whining like enormous mosquitoes. Madden whirled his head +for a glance aft. + +The same sort of drama was taking place amidship, boarders were climbing +over the rail and arms, sticks, and iron spikes snapped out of the inky +shadows and smote them. The invaders fired blindly into the darkness +that rimmed the deck. As to whether they were killing or maiming +Caradoc's crew, Madden could not tell. + +One thing, however, he did observe, that aroused an anxious hope in the +boy's heart. A heavy column of smoke ascended from the tug's funnel, and +a tongue of steam played in its edge. + +A frenzy of impatience seized Madden. If the _Vulcan_ could only +get under way and escape the fight! Why didn't they start at once! In +the vivid light, he saw the steering wheel turning, apparently of its +own accord, and he knew that someone was manipulating the hand grips +from the bottom side. + +From those slight signs of preparation, Madden's attention was suddenly +whipped back to his business, by the sight of two figures climbing on +over the prow of the _Vulcan_. These men had no doubt caught a hook +in the anchor port and had climbed up without opposition. + +The invaders stood clearly limned by the searchlight, trying to pick out +a target for their fire, when Madden reached for the coal pile. The +American had once been pitcher for his college team, and the lump of +coal crashed under the first man's jaw and he dropped backwards as if +hit by a piece of shrapnel. The second gunman banged at the shadow where +Madden was hid. The bullets sang about the American's ears, when +Deschaillon's ostrich-like kick flashed through the light and caught the +sailor in the pit of the stomach. The automatic dropped from his hand, +and he crimped up like a stuck grubworm. + +But while the defenders were occupied with this little flank attack, +half a dozen hooks were firmly lodged on the rail, and at least eight +men were mounting swiftly. At their head came an officer waving a sword. +The firing from below suddenly ceased, lest they hit their own men. In +the silence that followed, Madden heard the hiss of rising steam, and +from somewhere the tinkle of a bell. + +Suddenly out of the shadows, the whole force of the defenders leaped at +the Germans and attacked them as they strode over the rail. There was a +clattering of revolvers, a thwacking of sticks and iron pins, and the +smashing of thrown coal. + +Then the combatants grappled hand to hand on the rail of the tug, +swinging eerily in and out like wrestlers, a strange sight in the +beating searchlight. + +Madden closed with the officer, and by good fortune caught his right +wrist, so the fellow could not shorten his sword and stab him. The +American kept trying to twist the German's arm and make him drop his +blade, but the fellow had thrust his left hand under Madden's arm pit +and reached up and caught him about the forehead. The result was a back +half nelson, and put Madden's neck under a terrific strain. + +In return he choked his adversary, but Madden's mastoid muscles slowly +gave way before the German's punishing hold. His head bent back, while +he clung desperately to the sword hand and crushed in the fellow's +gullet. There was a roaring in Madden's ears that was not from the +fighting men. His neck and back slowly curved backward under the strain. +Had it not been for the menace of the sword, he could have wriggled out +with a wrestler's shift, but if he loosed the right hand... Madden +wondered if he could fall backwards and still maintain his hold on the +sword. If he could ever get down without being stunned by his fall, his +strangle hold would give him an immediate advantage. He swung backwards, +but the fellow did not go with him, but began a furious struggle to +loose his weapon. Madden clung grimly. His whole body dripped with +sweat, as he held away the sword and tried to choke the fat neck of his +antagonist. He shoved the fellow's throat with all his power, trying to +break the nelson, but the pressure jammed his own head back till a hot +pain streaked through the base of his skull. + +At that moment a tremor ran through the tug, and there came a +chough-choughing in her stack. Immediately followed a great shouting and +a frantic pelting of grapnels from the sea below. Madden knew that the +_Vulcan_ had at last got under steam, and would probably escape. +This came to him dimly as his left hand, which had been struggling to +fend off the sword, gradually lost its grip on the German's sweaty +slippery wrist. + +Along up and down the rail, he knew that the men battled with varying +results. Came dimly to his roaring ears shouts, groans and blows. In +another minute the sword would split his ribs. + +A breeze sprang up. The _Vulcan_ was gathering headway. + +He was bracing his last efforts against the force that was bending him +double, when a long-legged figure rushed from amidship, seized the +swordsman around the waist, and with a mighty heave, flung the fellow +upward and outward into the sea, falling end over end--a grotesque +gyrating figure in the searchlight, still waving his sword. + +"Down! Down! Everybody!" yelled Caradoc, as he waded up the rail, +overthrowing the last of the boarders. + +Madden and the defenders fell prone on the deck, and it was not too +soon. The moment the boarding party was definitely repulsed, there broke +out a crashing volley from the long boat, and their bullets played a +ringing tattoo over the ironwork. Then the tug drew steadily away from +their assailants. + +The searchlight played over the steamer for several minutes in order to +afford a target for the small boats, but the crew lay close, only +trusting an eye over the sheer strake now and then for a glimpse of the +enemy. Up on the bridge, Leonard could see the steering wheel still +turning of its own accord this way and that as the _Vulcan_ +gathered speed. + +Presently the searchlight was switched off, leaving the deck in utter +darkness. The cutters had given up the chase. Leonard sat up on deck and +wriggled his sore neck this way and that. He could see nothing now save +the stream of sparks that leaped out of the funnel and flowed aft into +the black sea. + +"Men!" cried Caradoc's voice, "is anyone hurt?" + +"A few of us 'ave 'oles punched in us, sor!" came a reply. + +"All the wounded will report to Captain Black in the main cabin!" called +Smith. + +There was a shuffling of feet on deck, as the men passed aft through the +darkness. + +At that moment, out of the mother ship there flared another bright light +that wavered about the horizon for a moment and finally settled on the +_Vulcan_. The wounded men dodged below the rail again, but no +bullets came. + +This light was not stationary. It crept down through the inky sea toward +the fugitives and grew larger and brighter in their eyes. + +"W'ot is that?" cried several apprehensive voices. + +Caradoc stood erect by the rail, watching this new development. + +"Malone," he called to the man hidden on the bridge, "what speed can +this boat make?" + +"Hi've got as 'igh as eighteen knots out of 'er, sir." + +"Signal 'full speed ahead' and call down to the firemen for all the +steam we can carry." + +"Very well, sir." + +Caradoc looked at the light for a minute or two longer and then remarked +to Madden. + +"They couldn't have repaired that submarine for several hours longer. +They must have had two." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +CHASED BY A SUBMARINE + + +Wheezing, coughing, shaking in every plate, vomiting into the sky a +trail of smoke that extended clear to the eastern horizon, the +_Vulcan_ shouldered her way at top speed across the mazy lanes of +the Sargasso. The tug had come a queer crooked path across that sea, and +the lay of her smoke trail down the pearly glow of dawn still marked her +tortuous course. + +Not a breath of air stirred, but the speed of the vessel sent a breeze +whipping over the poop of the steamer where a group of battered men +stared fixedly over the long frothing path of the screw. Several of the +group wore bandages, two, unable to stand, sat in steamer chairs, all +had the pale faces of all-night watchers, but every eye in the crowd +scanned with feverish intensity the spangled ocean over which they fled. + +The wind snatched at the clothes and bandages of the intent men. Masses +of seaweed swept like gray blurs down the sheer of the tug's wake. Just +beneath them the propeller rushed with watery thunder. + +"Yonder she rises!" cried one of the watchers, pointing at two wireless +masts that rose like the fins of a racing shark above the green surface +of the Sargasso. + +"Yonder she rises!" repeated a voice amidship, and more faintly still +came the repetition from the bridge, "Yonder she rises--hard a-port!" + +A sudden shift of the rudder shook the _Vulcan_ from peak to +keelson. Next moment the tug was speeding squarely across a seaweed +field, and another crook was added to the smoke mark in the sky. The +_Vulcan's_ blunt prow drove through the seaweed at a great rate, +while the clammy mass swung back together not sixty yards behind the +churning screw. + +A strange race had developed between the tug and submarine. When both +crafts were on the surface in open water, the submarine had a knot or +two advantage of the _Vulcan_ and could have picked her up in four +or five hours. But early in the night Caradoc had discovered that the +powerful screw of the steamer, designed, as it was, to propel vast +loads, could make the higher speed across the algae beds. + +On the other hand, if the submarine dived to escape the drag of the +weed, she again became the faster craft. But, in this instance, when the +submarine dived, the _Vulcan_ would immediately take to the open +lanes and do more than preserve her distance. These constant shifts and +turns explained the ricocheting course that was marked in smoke across +the whitening dawn. + +The submarine stood well out of water and skimmed along in the pink +gleam like a long, slender missile. Its flat deck, wireless masts and +conning tower stood etched in black against the morning light. She was +consuming a fairish stretch of open water at a high speed. + +"She's game for a long chase," observed Hogan, gently shifting a wounded +arm in its sling. + +Leonard Madden replied without removing his eyes from the rushing boat, +"She has to be. All of Germany's naval plans depend on her destroying +us." + +"It does--and, faith, may Oi ask why?" + +"If we get to Antigua and report this to the British admiralty, how long +would this Sargasso reshipping arrangement last?" + +"Right you are there, Misther Madden," agreed Hogan at once. "We'd woipe +'em out, wouldn't we? We'll make it, too. If we stood off th' little +didapper all night, you know we can all day." + +Madden considered the fleet little vessel. "No, I rather think she will +capture us." + +"And how's that?" + +"The Sargasso doesn't extend indefinitely. In fact we are nearing the +southern limit. Have you taken a look forward?" + +"No, I haven't," said Hogan, taking vague alarm at Madden's tone. +"What's wrong?" + +"I don't see many more big seaweed fields ahead. If she gets us in open +water----" + +"Why bad luck to it! Bad luck to it, Oi say!" cried Hogan as the wind +whistled about him; "running us out o' the bushes loike a swamp rabbit." + +Just then the submarine veered off her straight course somewhat to +extend her open water run for two or three miles up the edge of the +field. A length view showed her to be a delicate looking craft. Her +sharp prow cut the water with hardly a ripple, in sharp contrast to the +_Vulcan_, which shouldered up a waterfall as she lunged forward. + +Suddenly, and rather unexpectedly, the submarine porpoised. There was a +swash of foam, and she was gone. + +The men on the poop stepped around to the side of the tug and stared +anxiously southward. Bits of flotsam mottled the blue expanse, but it +really appeared as if the saving drift weed were thinning to nothing. +Hogan glanced back over the way he had come. + +"Sure it'll be a fair field and no favor, sweet Peggy O'Neal!" he hummed +nonchalantly under his breath. + +At that moment a violent shaking went over the _Vulcan_, and the +short boat swung her prow about with tug-like promptness. It was as if +the stout little craft had swung around on her heel. + +"Faith and would ye shake a man's arrum off!" shouted Hogan at nobody in +particular. "And are ye going back to meet the friendly little wasp?" + +That was exactly what Caradoc was doing. He had swung the _Vulcan_ +about in less than a hundred yard circle and was plowing straight back +the way they had come. + +The crowd on the poop held their breath at the daring maneuver. Tug and +submarine were now rushing at each other full tilt, only one ran under +water, the other on the surface. Suppose the submarine should thrust up +a periscope for an instant--a cough of the torpedo tube and the +_Vulcan_ would be blown to scrap iron. + +The men on the poop ran forward, staring with frightened eyes over the +gray-green soggy field through which the _Vulcan_ ripped her way. + +It seemed fantastic to think that somewhere under that lifeless weed +human beings spun swiftly along, freighted with the most terrific engine +of destruction. What strange warfare! Who could have fancied that when +savages began to use clubs to maul each other it would end in this +diabolical refinement! Weapons, weapons, weapons--the history of man's +undying savagery working under new forms of civilization! The war +submarine--what a monstrous offspring of genius! + +The sun rose like a white-hot ball in the brazen sky and the men held to +the rails, mouths open, and stared ahead into the safe open water, +expecting every moment for the _Vulcan_ to spatter skyward in a +volcano of fire and steel. + +The boat itself rattled along with that insensibility of mechanism that +sometimes astounds an apprehensive man. Twenty minutes later, she turned +into the open lane, and was rushing westward again at full steam. + +An immense relief spread over the crew. Galton, who stood on the bridge +at the wheel beside Caradoc, blew out a long breath and wiped the sweat +from his face, Farnol Greer began a windy whistling of "Winona, Sweet +Indian Maid." Madden felt as if a weight had been lifted off his brain. +Hogan was humming a tune. But all eyes turned anxiously seaward, to see +where the submarine would "blow." + +Ten minutes later, a distant ripple in the water caught their watchful +eyes and the wireless masts popped up, on the opposite side of the great +weed field, four or five miles distant. + +A spontaneous cheering broke out on the _Vulcan's_ decks. + +"Double crossed! Double crossed!" bellowed Hogan. + +"Back track! We put one over! Hurrah for Cap'n Smith!" they shouted +above the pounding of the engines. + +Everyone but Caradoc wore the fixed exultant grin of the man who outwits +his rival. The submarine had been thoroughly outgeneraled. North and +west of the _Vulcan_ lay the whole Sargasso for an endless chase. +The diving boat had lost the great advantage of having the steamer +cornered. + +As the crew whistled and sang the _Vulcan_ kicked a frothy course +down the long westward lane. To every one's surprise, the submarine did +not dive immediately, but straightened herself on the other side of the +seaweed field on a course parallel with her quarry. + +Madden climbed up on the bridge and found a pair of binoculars in the +chart room. He took these outside and trained them on the little vessel. +Apparently the submarine intended to remain at the surface for some +time, for she had opened her hatches and an officer had come out on the +slender deck, and stood looking at the _Vulcan_ through a +telescope. + +At the distance, Madden could see the fellow plainly, and even the inky +shadow he threw on the deck. The officer perused the tug for several +minutes, then allowed his glass to wander around the horizon. + +"They've come up for air," observed Caradoc, who had approached his +friend from behind. "I believe we'd best stop that. Good air is a luxury +with those fellows." He turned to Galton, who was steering. "Swing her +into the northwest, my man." + +The tug answered to her helm with a quiver, and in twenty minutes more +was nosing her way again through the ooze of weed. The German officer +calmly completed his survey, folded his telescope, then disappeared down +the hatch. A few minutes later the submarine dived and the ocean lay +empty in the burning sunshine. + +From below came the clanging of Gaskin's gong announcing dinner. It was +odd how the little details of life went calmly on even when life itself +was threatened with extinction. As Madden went below to his meal, he met +Malone who came from below, looking as black as an Ethiopian. The mate +had been directing the firing in this extreme necessity. + +The two fell in together as they walked to the wash room. + +"I daresay those fellows wish they had sunk the _Vulcan_ when they +had her," observed the American. + +"They needed 'er theirselves," explained the mate in a matter-of-fact +way. "Those German cruisers 'ave captured a whole flotilla of prizes +lately, and they needed th' tug to 'andle 'em for 'em." + +"And they didn't need the _Minnie B_?" + +"Oh, no, not at all." + +"Why didn't they sink her at once?" + +"Her cap'n told me she carried more copper than one submarine could +reship, so they 'ad to wait for another, as they didn't want to throw no +copper away." + +Madden nodded. "It was the second submarine I saw on the night she +foundered." He began smiling when he thought what a bewildering mystery +the vessel had been, and how very simple was the explanation. + +By this time Caradoc had joined the two men, hoping to snatch a sandwich +and a cup of coffee before he was needed again. + +"Have we plenty of coal, mate?" + +"Bunkers are 'arf full, sir." + +"What's she turning over now?" + +"Six, seventy-five to th' minute, sir." There was a pause, then Malone +asked, "Is there any 'opes of _them_ running out o' fuel?" + +"Not likely; they make the trip to Hamburg, you know." + +They were just turning into the smelly galley, when a startled voice +sang out forward: + +"Sail ahoy!" + +This stopped the trio instantly. + +"Where away?" called Caradoc. + +"Dead ahead, sor!" + +All three turned and went running back updeck. When they regained the +bridge, Madden stared in the direction indicated. At first the western +horizon looked empty, then along its level line his eye caught two tiny +marks against the brilliant sky. As it was too small for his naked eyes, +he resorted to the binoculars once more. Caradoc was doing the same +thing. + +"W'ot is it, sir?" inquired Malone anxiously. + +When he had focused his glasses, Madden made out two fighting +tops--steel baskets circling steel masts, thrust up menacingly over +the slope of the world. + +"W'ot is it, sir?" repeated Malone uneasily. + +Just then Madden's eye caught the flag at the peak, as it fluttered +under the drive of the distant ship. It was the black cross on the white +ground, with the dark upper left quarter of the German navy. + +Caradoc took down his glass at the same time. + +"They've been using the wireless," he stated evenly, "to run us in a +_cul de sac_. I might have known German cruisers were close +around." He looked steadily at the distant fighting tops, then turned to +Galton. + +"Steer due north, quartermaster." + +After a moment, he said to Malone: + +"When you go below, send me up coffee and a biscuit." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE LONE CHANCE + + +Rushing up the slope of the world in a battle line that covered a wide +sector of the southwestern horizon, steamed four German battle cruisers. +They were four sea eagles dashing at a little water beetle of a tug--the +hammer of Thor swinging forward to crush an insect. The submarine had +signaled by wireless the whole German South Atlantic fleet to destroy +the tug. + +Only in the face of this demonstration did Madden realize that a great +German naval stratagem hinged upon the fate of the little English boat. +The slow, clumsy little _Vulcan_ would decide the fate of millions +of dollars worth of English shipping. The little vessel was freighted +with huge consequences. + +At first glimpse of the battle line, the _Vulcan_ had sheered +about, and now rushed northward, stringing her black smoke flat behind +her. Up from the south, the submarine followed on the surface, although +she could not make as good time through the weed as did the +_Vulcan_. However, the burden of destroying the English craft had +been transferred to the cruisers that came rushing forward at at least +twenty-five knots an hour. + +As Madden stood on the bridge in the skirling wind, the little +_Vulcan_, the seaweed drifts and the cruisers reminded him of +nothing so much as a rabbit flying across cotton rows in front of four +greyhounds; only here there were no friendly briar patches or fence +corners in which to double or hide. Never had the Sargasso appeared so +vast, so empty, so brilliant, so hot. + +"Any chance?" he shouted to Caradoc above the rumble of machinery and +the whistling of the wind. + +"There's always a chance! They might foul in these weeds!" he nodded +aft. + +"Improbable." + +"Lloyds would hardly insure us," admitted the commander dryly. + +At that moment, as if to lend point to the remark, came a sharp clap of +thunder off their port bow. Madden whirled quickly. A ball of white +smoke, the size of a balloon, drifted up in the air a quarter of a mile +distant. + +The American stared at the smoke quite wonderstruck, then looked around +at the distant ships that had not yet topped the horizon. + +"Did they shoot this far?" + +"A request to heave to." + +"Are you going to do it?" + +At the bursting of the shell, the men on deck came walking aft to the +superstructure, with the apprehensive gait of men getting under shelter +from blasting operations. + +Caradoc leaned over the rail of the bridge. "Greer!" he shouted, "go to +the flag locker, get out a union jack and show our colors on the peak!" + +The men pulled up at this, and half a dozen men, two or three of them +crippled, hurried to carry out the order. In a few minutes they came +running back on deck with the flag. They tangled the sheets after the +manner of landsmen, but finally the red pennant traveled skyward. There +was a brief hoarse cheering from the cockneys. + +The flag was scarcely at the peak, when above the throb and rumble of +the machinery, Madden's ear caught a queer droning noise, and a moment +later came a deafening crash about two hundred yards to the starboard. +The water beneath it was beaten to a foam, while another balloon of +smoke slowly expanded and thinned in the breathless air. A long time +after the bursting of the shell, Leonard heard the grumble of the cannon +that had fired it." + +"Now, lads," shouted Caradoc, "go below and bring up some rockets!" + +The men set off with a will, but Madden viewed the situation without any +thrill of patriotism to gild a death under the union jack. The cruisers +were slowly coming into full view. Through his glasses he could now see +their turrets and the black gun ports. + +"What's the idea, Smith? You can't fight with rockets?" + +"Some English vessel may see us," answered Caradoc shortly. + +Madden was still more astonished. "What good would that do?" he called +above the wind. "She'd be captured, too." + +"Certainly," agreed the Englishman brusquely, "but if she had a +wireless, she might report the situation to the Admiralty before they +sank us." + +Madden removed his binoculars and stared at his friend. "Are you staking +your life on as long a chance as _that_?" + +"My boy," said Smith, in an oddly matured tone, "when the safety of +one's country is at stake, one man's life doesn't amount to +_that_!" he snapped his fingers. "If there's a point to be gained, +you accept any chance automatically--or no chance at all." + +The American returned no answer, but there flashed into his mind the +legend of the Tyrian who beached his galley in order to save the secret +of Cornwall. Caradoc's narrative was oddly prophetic of the fate of the +_Vulcan_. And Madden wondered with a quirk of grim humor if there +were a foreigner aboard that Tyrian's galley, and what _he_ thought +about the sacrifice. + +There was another jagged report as a shell burst just aft the tug, then +a missile of some thousands of pounds shrieked through the air just +above the stumpy masts and filled the sky with fire and thunder a +hundred yards ahead. + +Out of the cabin came the rocket bearers, quite over their fright by +now, and acting with the nervous steadiness which acute danger brings. +One of the sailors from the regular crew of the tug moved along the +rail, mounting the fire signals one after the other for shooting. +Immediately behind him came Hogan, using his one good hand to fish +matches from his watch pocket and light the fuses. + +The first rocket lit with a sputter, for a moment its fiery blowing +filled the deck with smoke, then it darted skyward, with a tremendous +swis-s-sh! Up, in a long black column it went, into the very heart of +the hot brazen sky, then it exploded with a faint pop, and a black head +of smoke expanded at a prodigious height. In the midst of the +smoke-filled deck, Hogan was applying his match to another. So as the +tug plowed forward, tall slender pillars of smoke, crowned with swelling +palm-like heads, arose to dizzy heights out of her path. + +By this time huge shells were bursting about the _Vulcan_ with +crashing monotony. Sometimes the dodging little vessel ran through the +pungent gases of the shells that were sent to destroy her. Now and then +the giant missiles exploded under water and sent furious waterspouts +leaping over her decks. Something touched the top of her steel mainmast +and snapped it off as if it were a straw. A few minutes later the crew +had cleared the union jack from the wreckage and had it flaunting +defiantly from the forepeak. + +It was an odd defiance, a tugboat's challenge to a German battle line. +The nibbling of a mouse once set a lion free. Here was a mouse +endeavoring to net a whole herd of lions. + +The cruisers did not overhaul the little vessel as rapidly as Madden had +anticipated. The _Vulcan_ skurried through the seaweed fields, +dodging this way and that in order to take advantage of every lane of +open water, but the unwieldy battleships could not accept small +advantages, and were forced to plow straight ahead, through weed or wave +as it came. + +Thus the cruisers still fired at extreme range, and the tug escaped +destruction as a gnat might jiggle between raindrops and survive a +summer's shower. + +Amid steady crashes, Madden awaited stoically for the shot that would +erase the _Vulcan_ from the face of the sea. There came another +splintering shock; the upper half of the foremast made a curious jump, +and came down with its rigging and plunged overboard in the rushing +water. The obstruction instantly choked down the tug's speed. Every man +in the crew seized axe, saw, anything, and rushed forward in a fury of +impatience, hacking, chopping, sawing, working through the wreckage and +cutting the ropes with jackknives, in an effort to clear the tug of +debris. After an intolerable while, the last ratlines snapped like +pistol shots, the whizzing end of a rope struck a sailor and laid him +out as if clubbed, then the foremast fell away and the _Vulcan_ +rushed forward again. + +"Look ahead, Madden!" shouted Caradoc in the uproar. "We've got to run +among thicker fields than these!" + +By this time the tug's rockets were spent and the German cruisers were +rushing down a line of gigantic smoke-palms that were planted by the +little vessel. + +"You might as well surrender," called the American coolly. "You won't +find a merchantman if you go in thicker fields--you know that." + +"Surrender!" bawled Smith. "Do you think they shall have this tug to +haul their prizes? Let 'em sink us, and then pick us up in boats! Look +ahead!" + +The American turned his binoculars obediently and scanned the west and +north. His eyes traversed skein after skein of the brilliant colorful +patternings, but he was unable to find a very closely netted region. He +was about to announce his discovery to Caradoc when his lense focussed +on another grim menace almost dead ahead. + +He stared at it with a curious dropping of hopes that he had not +suspected were in his breast. + +What he saw was another fighting top. That pertinacious submarine had +apparently surrounded the elusive _Vulcan_ with German fighting +ships. + +Leonard removed his field glasses and stood for a full minute filled +with a keen frustration. The splitting din about him roared on +uninterruptedly, and yet somehow he had been hoping the _Vulcan_ +would escape. + +"What do you make of it?" bawled Smith, who had been watching the +submarine, which was once more drawing dangerously close. + +"We can't go in this direction, Smith!" shouted Leonard hopelessly. +"There are more ships in that direction." + +"Warships?" demanded Caradoc swinging his spyglass around. + +"Yes, fighting tops!" + +Both lads focused in the new direction. + +"Those Germans do everything thoroughly," shouted Leonard, "even to +sinking a tug!" + +But instead of despairing, Caradoc, after a single glance, rushed over +to the speaking tube to the boilers. He blew the whistle shrilly, then +folded it back and screamed down. + +"Malone! Malone! Malone!" + +"Very well, sir!" came back the muffled voice through the pipe. + +"Give her all steam possible! Blow her up! Speed her, man, speed her!" + +"Very well, sir!" returned the same voice. + +"Caradoc! Caradoc! Are you insane!" bawled Leonard. "Do you imagine you +can outrun two squadrons of German cruisers?" + +"German cruisers! That's England's line of battle, Madden! England! Old +England! God let me get to them and tell 'em what I know, then I don't +care what happens!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE BATTLE + + +"Th' signal book! Get the signal book!" bawled Greer amid the uproar. + +"W'ere is it?" + +"In the flag locker! Chuck the flags out, too! Scatter 'em out!" + +"W'ot you want to signal?" + +"Submarine--tell 'em to look out for submarines!" + +Hogan, who held the volume in the crook of his bandaged arm, licked his +thumb and jabbed through the leaves in distracted attention. "There +aren't no code letters for submarine!" he cried at last--"not in here!" + +"No," shouted Black, the _Vulcan's_ former captain, "that's an old +code--wasn't any submarines then!" + +"Spell it out!" commanded Caradoc from the bridge. "Sharp about it!" + +The men worked in a clutter of buntings, assembling the flags in nervous +haste. Black laid out the nine letters and the crew hurriedly hooked +them together. Ten minutes later, they strung the signal between the two +splintered masts with a queer drunken gala effect. + +The _Vulcan_ was no longer the German squadron's sole target. Down +on the Teuton battle line thundered five English cruisers, filling the +north with rolling smoke, their turrets spangled with cannon flashes, +prows shearing white walls of foam. + +The sky above the _Vulcan_ was filled with the drone of hurtling +shells. They sounded as thick as swarming bees. The cannon fire of the +approaching English ships mounted to a ragged roar. When the on-coming +line was less than five miles distant, Caradoc shouted an order to +Galton and the little tug swung around broadside on, displaying her +warning signal like a billboard. Through the battle smoke, Madden saw an +answering flag go up on the nearest ship. A cheer broke out from the +crew at this recognition of their work. + +"They'll pass it around among the fleet by wireless!" shouted Caradoc in +Madden's ear. + +"Do you know that ship, Smith?" called Madden excitedly. + +"The _Panther_--held a commission on her once." + +"Is it possible?" Madden peered at her through his glasses with renewed +scrutiny. + +They were so close now that the American could pick out the crew of +range finders working in the fighting tops; he could glimpse the huge +guns in the forward turrets as they flashed and roared amid shrouds of +smokeless powder haze. Madden realized he was seeing what every landsman +dreams of seeing: a naval battle. For some inscrutable reason, Caradoc +had headed the _Vulcan_ clear around and now faced the enemy, like +a rat terrier amid a battle of mastiffs. + +Madden turned aft as the tug swung around to follow the fortunes of the +_Panther_. He could see German shells exploding now and then on her +decks; sometimes they would strike the sea and send up typhoons of water +and weed. As he gazed a small-calibre gun was struck, and there was +nothing but a ragged smoking hole where the port had been. An instant +later, the mizzen top was shrouded in an emerald flame, and when the +smoke cleared, only a jagged stump of iron thrust skyward. The crew of +range finders had been wiped out in an instant. Several hours later, +Leonard learned that the whole German gunfire had been focussed for +several minutes on the _Panther_. + +But now that gray, smoke-wreathed cruiser rushed on indomitably, flanked +by her thundering consorts. The half-naked men on the _Panther's_ +decks looked curiously small in their huge rushing fortress. German +shells battered her decks amid spangling green flames but could not stop +her. As she overtook the _Vulcan_, the concussion of cannon fire +and bursting shells grew so terrific it ceased to be noise. It resolved +itself into blows, terrific air movements that smote Madden all over. It +pounded his ear drums with physical blows; it tore at the bridge of his +nose, jarred his teeth, sent shooting pains through his head, for he was +not wise enough to stuff his ears with cotton and hold his mouth open. +It shook the pit of his stomach and nauseated him. It was a sound +cyclone. Added to this the sickening acrid smell of niter explosives +filled the atmosphere. + +On came the _Panther_ through the green foam of German fire, +mingling the mighty vibrations of her engines, the hiss of leaping walls +of water, tempests of cannon fire and vindictive shriek of leaping +shells. + +Caradoc leaned over to Madden and yelled something at the top of his +voice. Madden shook his head as a signal that he could not hear. Smith +repeated so loudly that his long face grew red with the strain. It was +impossible to catch a word. Besides, Leonard's ears ached as if the +drums were ruptured. + +Caradoc caught up a speaking trumpet and held it to his friend's ear. + +"Don't look at the _Panther_!" cried a drowned voice. "Watch ahead +for the submarine!" + +The submarine! Sure enough, there was the submarine, silent stiletto, +waiting beneath the sea to stab this fiery monster. Madden's heart +leaped into his throat. Was it possible so slight an antagonist could +engulf the battle cruiser? + +The American turned and stared ahead over the shell-beaten sea with all +his eyes. The little _Vulcan_ was now racing along some half-mile +in front of the English battle line, her warning signal still stretched +between her splintered masts. She rushed at top speed, vibrating under +the stress of her engines. Five or six miles ahead the German squadron +had turned and was flying southward before the superior English force. +Flashes of fire and dull thunder still belched from their after turrets. + +Leonard tried to confine his attention to the adjacent waters in careful +search for the diving boat's periscope, but the terrific spectacle +across the smoky spangled sea gripped his eyes beyond his control. + +The ship on the eastern wing of the Teuton line was in flames. The fire +burst out of the gun deck ports, lapping up over the boat decks in long +red curling tongues. Her cannon fire had ceased, and from what Leonard +could see, he thought the English ships had quit firing at her. She +still fled southward, however. Smoke began to roll out of her turrets, +and her crew came swarming out on her deck like a disturbed ant's nest. +Through his glasses, Madden saw them hunched against the fire, working +to launch a boat, when of a sudden there was a blinding flare; a huge +cloud of smoke leaped from the sea, and after four or five minutes, a +thunder heavily audible even amid the roar of battle rumbled in Madden's +ears. It was the solemn note of a battleship destroyed by its own +magazines. When the smoke cleared away there was left nothing save +tossing waves and bits of flotsam here and there. + +The horror of the tragedy was lost for Leonard in another, more +appalling scene. The right central battleship had lost control of her +steering gear, and now she ran wildly amuck in the fleeing line like a +drunken giant of steel. + +Through accident, or by the last shift of seamanship, she veered about +broadside on, her huge guns still belching defiance. In crazy flight, +she barely missed one of her own squadron, then rounded back in a great +circle for the English line. No doubt her crew did not try to stop her, +hoping that her unguided charge might work some damage to the enemy. + +On she came, against the focussed storm of English cannon, her prow, +forward turrets, bridge, masts, fairly disintegrated under a bastinado +of twelve and fourteen-inch shells. Yet it seemed as if she would +survive it all and ram some English cruiser, when a cloud of steam broke +out of her hold. A lucky shot had exploded her boilers. Her wild charge +ceased instantly, but her sub-calibre guns still chattered defiance at +the crushing odds. Giant shells were now pounding her at point-blank +range. At some stroke of a cruiser to the right of the _Panther_, +the German ship heeled heavily on her starboard side. + +Through his glasses, Madden could see the +sailors still struggling to work the guns, though +scores of them were wiped from the deck at +every English shell. Amid clouds of smoke the +black cross of the German battle flag fluttered +undaunted. + +In a few minutes the enemy listed until her guns were at such a high +angle they could no longer be trained against the enemy. Her forward +turret was completely blown away. Bursting shells kept a constant glare +around her. Her boiler and furnace rendered her hold untenable, for her +crew came out of the smoke and formed orderly platoons on her crippled +deck. Shells swept gaps through their files, but they closed again in +regular formation, standing oddly erect on the up-tilted deck. There +was not a gun they could man, not a blow could they strike, yet the men +stood firm in the steel cyclone sweeping across their shattered deck. +Then Madden turned his lens on a group a little to one side of the main +formation, and his eye caught the gleam of silver horns, the rise and +fall of a drummer's arm, the fierce beating of a director with a baton. +It was the ship's musicians. The band was playing, the men were chanting +the battle hymn of the empire; out of the heart of the foundering +cruiser, out of the souls of the passing warriors rose triumphantly, +"_Die Wacht am Rhein_." + +Sudden tears filled the eyes of the American and dimmed the splendid +sight. He turned impulsively to his friend. + +"Caradoc! My God!" he screamed in his ear, "why don't they quit firing!" + +"Their flag is still flying--no doubt the halyards are shot away!" + +Even while Smith screamed, a sudden and startling attack was launched +from the _Panther's_ rapid fire and machine guns. They sounded +a shrill treble amid the profound shaking bass of the giant cannon. +The boys looked sharply about to see the object of this abrupt attack, +when they suddenly heard the shrill whistling of steel all about their +ears. + +With the utmost horror, Madden saw every tiny port spouting continuous +flame in his direction. Steel frothed the sea all around the +_Vulcan_. Missiles struck the little tug and glanced off with sharp +musical twangs. The crew of the little boat, who swarmed on deck, +wonderstruck at the battle of the giants, suddenly darted to cover with +wild yells. + +"They're crazy! They're daft!" screamed Madden. "Shooting at us! What's +the matter with 'em?" + +Caradoc, also, seemed to share the madness. He suddenly spun his wheel +to the left, veered in a sharp circle, and dashed straight toward the +course of the _Panther_ into the thickest of the hail. Leonard +stood beside him, frozen stiff, when straight ahead, he suddenly saw a +periscope show for an instant, then disappear in a little swirl of +water. The submarine had come into the action. + +The tug rushed straight through the bullet-rumpled water to the point +where the metal fin had disappeared, like a terrier dashing at a +rathole. + +With the disappearance of the submarine's "eye," the fusillade ceased +abruptly. The great cannon were firing more slowly now and there came +short intervals of comparative silence in the battle. + +From the bridge Caradoc bellowed fiercely at his men: "Spread around the +rail--keep a sharp lookout for the submarine!" The crew came back with a +will now that they learned the bombardment had not been intended for +them. + +In the meantime the tiny David had put the great Goliath to flight. The +_Panther_ was endeavoring to save herself. She veered out of the +thundering battle line and zigzagged easterly, in full flight from any +enemy that she could almost drop down one of her smokestacks. + +And the little _Vulcan_ swung about in an effort to keep up with +her principal. On she rushed, shaking and puffing like a locomotive, her +bright flags flying the submarine warning, as if the speeding giant +ahead of her were likely to forget it. + +Suddenly Hogan bawled out: "By th' port! By th' port, sir! There she +rises!" + +Another shrill storm from the giant showed that the gunners aboard the +_Panther_ also saw the periscope. + +Again the _Vulcan_ dashed at the diving terror as it disappeared +and the cruiser swung clear around in a northerly tack. Her commander +was trying to outguess the man under the sea. + +A strange game of blind-man's-buff the three dissimilar crafts were +playing. Caradoc assumed the submarine pilot would guess that the +_Panther_ had fled north, and he sent the tug spitting along a +course that would lie between the cruiser and her enemy. The +_Panther_ was forced to repass the _Vulcan_ in the new maneuver. +The giant and pygmy were flying along at top speed, fairly abreast, +scarcely five hundred yards apart. + +Leonard took his eyes off the starboard sea a moment to look at the lion +which this mouse was trying to nibble free, when suddenly, not thirty +yards on the _inside_ of the tug popped up the periscope. + +The American rushed to the wheel, jerked it to the starboard. "Yonder! +Yonder!" he bellowed in Caradoc's ear, pointing. + +[Illustration: The Battle.] + +Again the guns shrilled forth; a steel sleet wailed about the +_Vulcan_. Into the teeth of this blast, the tug circled and lunged. + +With fascinated eyes, Madden watched the periscope cut a swirling circle +on the midst of the beaten water and straighten on the _Panther_. + +Now the metal eye was directly under their swaying starboard. A moment +they sped side by side, toward the imperiled cruiser. Madden could +almost have touched the wireless masts. A whine of bullets ripped one of +their lifeboats like a saw and sputtered through the superstructure. + +The periscope, which thrust six or seven feet out of water, disappeared +under the swell of the _Vulcan's_ hull. Suddenly the tug swung her +blunt beak around with the sidelong blow of an angry swine. Madden went +flying to the right rail of the bridge to stare down at the imminent +tragedy. + +A dim shadowy bulk was hurtling through the blue water. Suddenly, just +as the tug's prow swung athwart her course, the submarine lined up +straight with the _Panther_. A great belching of bubbles wallowed +up through the turbulent sea as a sign that the torpedo was launched. + +A heart-stopping moment, in which the diving boat, the darting shadow of +the torpedo, the blocking prow of the _Vulcan_ was clear. + +A titanic upheaval of water; volcanic fires leaping out of the heart of +the deep; a roar so absolutely appalling that it reduced the battle to a +whisper! + +The prow of the _Vulcan_ reared up and bent back over the main +deck. In the same instant, out of the cauldron sea, an enormous +cigar-shaped object was flung end-over-end, as a child flings a spindle. +There was one flashing glimpse of conning tower, smashed plates. Then a +clap of surging air that seemed as solid as oak picked Madden up as if +he had been thistledown. He felt himself whirling through space. +Somehow, he caught a glimpse of a string of signals that had been blown +from the wrecked masts of the shattered _Vulcan_. Then he felt a +stinging blow of water as he hit the sea. + +The submarine had destroyed both herself and the tug with her first +torpedo. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE VICTORIA CROSS + + +Shocked, stunned, half blinded, Madden found himself kicking in the +water amidst a wreckage of spars, planks, buoys, with here and there a +swimmer struggling to stay on the surface. The whole mass of flotsam +swung slowly around the whirlpool where tug and submarine had sunk. + +The circling water was filmed with oil, the life-blood of the stricken +submarine. Presently the concavity in the ocean mounted to level, and +its rotation slowly died away. The American found that his arms had +unwittingly clasped something which proved to be an empty tin canister +with a screw top. He hung to it apathetically. His ears bled from the +concussion of the torpedo, and it was with difficulty that he focussed +his eyes on anything. + +Presently he became aware of a voice calling his name. It seemed a long +way off, but when he looked around he saw Farnol Greer quite close to +him. The thick-set black-headed fellow motioned for Madden to approach, +and the American kicked himself and his float in that direction. A +little later he saw that Malone was with Farnol, and that the two were +supporting a third man. + +"Lend us a 'and, 'ere, Madden," called Malone; "our chap's knocked out." + +"Who is it? Oh, it's Caradoc!" Madden stared down into the still, +upturned face with a dull emotionless feeling. He was too numb to feel +or sympathize. "Is he dead?" he finally asked. + +"Wounded, sir," replied Greer. + +At that moment, the Englishman moved slightly, opened his eyes. +"We--stopped it, Madden." + +"Are you badly hurt?" inquired the American, becoming more nearly normal +himself. + +"Punch through my shoulder." + +"Were you hit in the explosion?" + +"One of the _Panther's_ machine guns--ricocheted, I think." + +"What rotten luck!" growled Madden. + +Smith reached his good arm to the float. "Had it all my life in little +things, Madden, but the _Panther_--that torpedo----" + +"Boat ahoy!" called Farnol Greer suddenly. + +Leonard looked about and saw that the _Panther_ had laid to, a good +two miles distant, and two of her cutters were coming back to pick up +the survivors. A blue-jacket on the sharp bow of the little vessel waved +an arm at Farnol's cry, and presently the rescuing party was alongside. +Caradoc went up first, then Farnol, Malone and Madden, who automatically +clung to his tin canister. + +The sailors from the warship were chattering excitedly over the +miraculous preservation of the _Panther_. + +"If that tug had been 'arf a second later," declared one, "she'd 'ave +'ad us, Sniper, sure--to th' port, there, Bobby, there's another chap +kickin' in th' water." + +One of the sailors had a roll of bandages, and he now moved over to +Caradoc and stooped over the wounded man. + +"You're pinked," he said in a tone of authority. "I'll take a turn o' +this linen around your shoulder." Suddenly he paused as he glanced into +the sufferer's face. "Why--why, hit's the Lieut'nant!" he stammered. +Then he stood erect and saluted properly. "Would you 'ave a bandage, +sir?" he asked in a different one. + +Caradoc assented wearily and shifted his shoulder for the band of linen. +The fellow must have been a surgeon's helper, for he applied the strip +rather dexterously as the cutter steamed about picking up the rest of +the _Vulcan's_ crew who had survived the catastrophe. + +Half an hour later friendly hands helped the waifs up the +_Panther's_ accommodation ladder, where a group of officers and men +waited to be of service to the _Vulcan's_ crew. + +The deck of the cruiser was torn and blackened from the German fire; +here and there were sailors in bandages. Stretchers were placed at the +head of the ladder for the tug's wounded. + +The crew, of the _Panther_ showed the utmost cordiality and also +the utmost curiosity toward their visitors. A dapper young midshipman +gripped Madden's hand as he stepped on the broad deck. + +"Where did that tug come from?" he inquired at once. "Most extraordinary +sight--whole fleet pounding away at a tug--Ponsonby is my name." + +Madden mentioned his own, and several brother officers, seeing that here +was an intelligent fellow, gathered about the American. Two or three +were introduced with English formality. + +"If you are not too bowled over, old chap," begged a middy named +Gridson, "explain to us how a tug ever happened in the middle of the +Sargasso in full flight from a hostile fleet." + +Some of the wounded were still coming up from the cutter, as Madden made +a beginning of the tug's story. Just then he was interrupted by +Ponsonby. + +"Pardon, Madden, but who is that chap coming up--Say, Gridson, that +isn't--why that's Wentworth!" The middy suddenly dropped his voice. +"That's Wentworth or his ghost, fellows--off of a _tug_!" + +Madden looked. Smith was coming on the deck under the solicitous escort +of a surgeon. + +"That's Caradoc Smith," said Madden. "He assumed command of the tug when +he found out war was declared." + +"Smith was part of his name," explained Gridson. "Caradoc +Smith-Wentworth was the way he signed the register. He's of the Sussex +Smith-Wentworths. His brother took the title, you know." + +"Just fancy!" marveled Ponsonby. "Cashiered six months ago, comes back +chasing submarines on a tug, a hero, from boot strap to helmet--a bloody +hero----" + +"Hold there, Ponsonby," cautioned another officer named Appleby. "The +chap may be hurt seriously--you oughtn't to laugh." + +"Just look at the old man shaking his hand!" ejaculated Gridson, as a +very erect gray-headed officer came down off the bridge and extended his +hand. "You wouldn't think he had cashiered him six months ago." + +"I hope he gets his commission back," said Ponsonby, "but he will likely +lose it again from tippling." + +"I believe he is cured," said Madden. + +Appleby made some reply as the little group moved forward to meet the +wounded man. However, the surgeon and three senior officers were walking +with him below to the ship's hospital. + +It required two full days to get the _Panther_ into shipshape +condition, and during that time the entire fleet kept a sharp lookout +for the German mother ship, but that huge mysterious vessel had +disappeared as utterly as if the Sargasso had swallowed her up. + +Perhaps she did destroy herself to prevent capture, or perhaps her +sky-blue hue allowed the fleet to sail under her very prow while she +remained invisible. No doubt the two German warships which escaped had +warned their consort of her danger, and she had sailed for some port in +German Africa. At any rate she was never captured or destroyed. + +However, on the evening of the third day, the looming red walls of the +floating dock appeared on the eastern horizon. It was so huge and vast +that even the crew of the battleship burst into a cheer. + +Captain Ames of the _Panther_ immediately communicated with the +admiralty and arrangements were made to tow the dock to Antigua, where +she would be kept as a naval reserve until the end of the war and then +allowed to proceed to Buenos Aires. + +The British Towing and Shipping Company was repaid for the loss of the +_Vulcan_, and a prize of five hundred thousand dollars distributed +among the tug's crew for sinking the submarine. Thus the dreams of +wealth aroused by the ill-fated _Minnie B_ were realized in a small +way by the dock's crew. No doubt Deschaillon has his frog pond, old Mrs. +Galton her plot of flowers, and Hogan a tall hat, a long-tailed coat and +a silver-headed cane. + +One week after the Battle of the Sargasso, a formal dinner was given in +the officers' mess. At this affair two civilians were present, Leonard +Madden and Caradoc Smith-Wentworth. + +Under the radiance of many electric lights, Caradoc appeared rather weak +and bloodless. However, everyone seemed quite cheerful. The talk was +naturally of the war. The officers were speculating upon the entrance of +Italy and Turkey into the struggle. + +Presently Captain Ames touched an electric button and Gaskin, serene, +deferential and wearing an added dignity along with his new uniform, +entered the cabin with a basket full of ice and bottles on his arm. + +When his helpers had cleared the table, the fat fellow moved decorously +from diner to diner, announcing each port of call by the subdued pop of +a champagne cork muffled in his napkin. Madden shook his head when the +solemn fellow bent solicitously over him. "Make mine water, Gaskin," he +requested in an undertone, laying three fingers over his goblet. + +The cook changed almost imperceptibly from a straw colored bottle to a +glittering carafe of water; then he moved to Caradoc. + +The Englishman hesitated a moment, glanced at Madden and said, "Same +thing, Gaskin." + +Captain Ames must have observed his action, and showed his silent +approval by requesting water for himself. A few moments later the +captain arose. + +"Gentlemen," he began in his crisp military voice, "His Majesty, and all +England, are greatly pleased at the work of the South Atlantic fleet. In +the report of our recent victory, the commander of the _Panther_ +had an extremely cogent reason to commend very heartily the action of a +former officer of this vessel. To be exact and fair, it was an act upon +which the safety of this vessel and her crew depended." + +A little polite applause filled the slight interval in the speech. +Caradoc colored somewhat and the captain continued. + +"It is pleasant to me to announce that His Majesty, through the +Admiralty, has seen fit to reward this act by tendering Caradoc +Smith-Wentworth his commission as first lieutenant in His Majesty's +navy." + +A real outburst of applause greeted this announcement, but the captain +held up his glass and raised his voice for silence. + +"And I have the further pleasure to tender to Mr. Smith-Wentworth, at +his Majesty, George the Fifth's, express command, the Victoria Cross for +conspicuous bravery upon the field of battle." + +"Let us drink his health!" he finished above the congratulatory uproar +that broke out on the announcement. + +The men held their goblets at arm's length. + +"Here's to you, Wentworth!" "To your deserved honor, my boy!" "To your +well-earned promotion, Wentworth!" they chorused heartily. + +In the lull of drinking, Madden lifted his water to his friend. + +"Here's to the _remittance_ man," he proposed solemnly, "who +vanishes to-night and leaves a _Man_." + +Caradoc's long face was deeply moved as he looked into the eyes of the +youth whose life Providence had so intimately entwined with his own. +After a moment he responded steadily enough, "With all my heart, Madden. +And here's to the land which you taught me how to serve, my country--my +home--Old England!" + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Cruise of the Dry Dock, by T. S. 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