“You’ll feel better after dinner.”
“Maybe. If the buttons hold!”
Together they mounted the stairs to A deck. A few of theAmtonia’spassengers were lounging about on deck. They paid not the slightest attention to them, in fact, Bill noticed that their indifference was so marked that it could not be other than studied.
Then a voice spoke behind them. “Hello, men!” As they turned, Charlie joined them. “I wanted Father to meet you,” he said, rather breathlessly, “but he says you’ve joined the pirates, and— But you haven’t, have you?”
Osceola looked down at him quizzically. “Only pro tem!”
“Gee, what does that mean? I wish you’d talk American.”
“If I spoke my own language, which is real American, youngster, you wouldn’t understand me any better.”
Bill grinned. “Pro tem means for the time being,” he said. “But I’d better tell you, Charlie, that the Chief is feeling low tonight, so don’t get fresh. He’ll tomahawk you one of these days if you don’t look out!”
“Oh, yeah?” Charlie seemed unimpressed by this dire threat. Then his tone changed suddenly. “Please, Bill,” he whispered eagerly, “let me be a pirate, too. Gee, it would be such fun. Can’t I?”
Both Bill and Osceola burst into a shout of laughter. “But how about your Dad?” asked the Seminole.
“Well, what about him?”
Bill shook his head. “Talk like that to him, and he’ll be offering you the choice of back or bristles!”
“Aw, cut it out! I’m serious, Bill. Please let me be a pirate!”
“I’ll think about it, Charlie.” Bill took him by the arm and moved over to the rail. “But I do want you to do something for me,” he said in lowered tones. “You must keep it entirely to yourself, though. If you mention it to a single soul, you’ll get us all into a heap of trouble.”
“I won’t—honest, Bill. I’ll shut up like a clam! What is it?”
“All right then, I’ll trust you. I want you to make friends with the wireless operators. There are two of them. Find out when they relieve each other, whether the door is kept locked—in fact, find out everything you can—without making them suspicious. Got that?”
“You bet. Take it from me, they’ll never guess what I’m after!”
“Attaboy! Do you know where our cabin is?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s number 126 on the deck below, starboard side.”
“I can find it.”
“Good. Come there at eleven tonight, and report what you’ve found out.”
“I’ll be there with bells on.”
“Now be careful that nobody sees you come to our door. It won’t be locked—we’ll be there. Just open it and come in.”
“All right, Bill. You can trust me.”
“That’s all, so cut along now, and remember, eleven sharp. We’ve got a date for dinner, and I’m afraid we’re going to be late as it is. So long, Charlie.”
“So long, Bill. So long, Chief.”
Charlie raced away, intent on the importance of his trust and his two friends hurried toward the Palm Garden.
They found the Baron and his officers awaiting them in the foyer of the restaurant. The Baron beamed approval on their uniforms and introduced them to the members of the group they had not already met. These gentlemen each bowed from the waist and shook hands with continental formality upon being presented. The Baron spoke a few words, and then as the single stroke of the ship’s bell clanged, the chief steward appeared in the doorway.
“Dinner is served, Herr Captain.”
The Baron leading, they went into the restaurant. The meal which they sat down to proved to be a long, sumptuous affair of many courses. Every delicacy, in and out of season, was served. Evidently the Baron believed in living well—on other people. Both lads did full justice to the banquet. Muffled strains of the ship’s orchestra, hidden behind palms, lent gaiety to the atmosphere, but could not cut through the rigid formality of their companions’ demeanor.
It was after ten thirty by the time they left the table and went out on deck. The stars were like jewels flashing in the great inverted bowl of night. The dark water gleamed quiet as a mill-pond, reflecting the slender crescent of a new moon that had just appeared above the horizon.
The Baron puffed a long cigar while he conversed at his ease in a deck chair.
“This voyage,” he remarked complacently, watching the red ash glow on the end of his cigar, “is becoming quite a successful undertaking. A few more months and we can well afford to retire, and go our own ways.”
“But surely, Herr Baron, you are not contemplating ending this splendid venture?” It was the Chief Engineer who spoke.
“We must not try providence too far, Bauer. To date, this ship is a mystery to the world at large, it is true. But we have already created some stir. Personally, I consider it a positive compliment that the navies of the world are seeking us out to destroy us!”
“It must,” Bill remarked, “afford you a good deal of satisfaction, as well as profit, Baron.”
He was becoming restive. It was nearing eleven o’clock. The cabin door was locked and Charlie could not get in. But how to break away without arousing the Baron’s suspicions, he could not see.
That gentleman puffed contemplatively for a moment or two.
“Yes, you have it right, Mr. Bolton,” he observed at last. “Pleasure and profit. Outside of the vast sums in money and jewels we have taken from captured liners, you perhaps do not realize that we have more than two hundred very wealthy people as passengers. Their ransoms, at the lowest estimate will run well over a million dollars apiece. Yes, this is a most profitable business, Mr. Bolton. But of course, a most dangerous one. We must not practice it for too long a time.”
“Herr Baron,” Bill leaned forward in his seat, and smiled his most engaging smile, “neither Chief Osceola nor I have had the opportunity this evening to thank you for your consideration in the matter of our cabin and the uniforms you have provided us.”
“Yes, indeed, Baron,” Osceola seconded him and threw the stub of his cigarette over the rail. “Very kind of you, I must say.”
“Oh, do not mention it, my dear fellows.” The Baron was joviality itself. “Those are small matters and easily attended to.”
“But we appreciate your wish to make us comfortable.” Bill rose, and Osceola followed his example. “And now, sir, we will say good night. It has been a long day and a busy one.”
“Good night, my young friends,” beamed von Hiemskirk. “Pleasant dreams, andauf wiedersehnuntil tomorrow.”
Everyone stood up and saluted and the lads marched off toward their cabin. Osceola was unlocking the door, when a stealthy figure appeared from out the shadows of a cross passage, and Charlie slipped into the room with them.
“Gee, I thought you were never coming,” he said, as Bill switched on the light.
“Sorry, Charles, so did we! Have you got any news?”
“Plenty, Bill. I—”
His words were cut short by a crash of gunfire from above. For an instant they stood listening to the thunder of the gun, then Bill broke their constrained silence.
“We’ll have to postpone our talk, Charlie, worse luck. There’s something doing out there, all right, and it’s up to the Chief and me to hustle up on deck pronto.”
Without further parley the three caught up their caps and ran out of the cabin.
The lads encountered a crowd of nervous and excited passengers on the stairs and were swept up with them and out on deck. By common instinct the flow was toward port. A few hundred yards away, the lights of a steamer, parallel with them, could be discerned. Signals were flashing, bells clanging, and the clamor of the startled passengers pressing the rail was deafening.
Bill gripped Osceola’s arm. “Let’s get out of this bedlam,” he shouted. “The skipper is sure to be on the bridge—come along!”
Diving across the ship they ran forward on the opposite deck and up the stair to the bridge. Baron von Hiemskirk stood with a pair of night glasses trained on the stranger across the water. Near him a group of white uniformed ship’s officers conversed in whispers. He lowered the binoculars as Bill and Osceola approached and rendered them a stiff salute.
“Good evening again, gentlemen. Thank you for your promptness. Chief Osceola, I want you and Lieutenant Schneider to go aft and quiet that rabble. Explain to the passengers that there is no cause for alarm. Tell them also in my name that unless they go at once to their cabins, they will be sent there forcibly.”
Osceola and the Lieutenant saluted and departed on their errand.
“Now, gentlemen,” continued the Baron, “as several of you already know, I have been aware for some time that we were overhauling that ship we see out there. Had she obeyed our signals and those of theFlying Fish, there would have been no need to waste shell fire on her. You will be interested to learn that she is theBlakeof Cardiff, loaded with twenty-five hundred tons of coal—enough to keep us going for a week at good speed, or two weeks at low speed. Tomorrow morning, we will start coaling, and for the next few days, every one of us will be especially busy. Those of you who are not on duty, will please me by turning in at once, and getting a good night’s rest. Good night, gentlemen.”
Back in his cabin, Bill undressed and got into bed. He was lying there, with the lights burning, thinking over the day’s events, when Osceola came in.
He tossed his cap on the lounge, and began to unbutton his blouse. “Well, we got the sheep herded into their respective barns. Did you find out anything about that ship?”
Bill told him what the Baron had said. “Filthy business, coaling,” he ended with a yawn.
“It will be interesting to find out how they work it at sea, especially when we’ve got at least one warship on our trail.”
“I don’t think the Baron’s worrying about theStamford. We’ve changed our course at least twice in the last few hours. It’s a big ocean, Osceola.”
“Guess so. And some queer people on it. The noble Baron makes me laugh. He’s probably the greatest thief unhung, yet he purposely chatted with us and the other officers after dinner, on the side of the deck away from this collier, so that we would go to bed early and get a good night’s rest.”
“He’s an odd beggar, all right,” yawned Bill. “Switch off the light, and hop into that bed of yours, big boy, or I’ll be talking in my sleep.”
A steward called them at five next morning. By five-thirty they had dressed in uniform cap and dungarees, breakfasted and were out on deck. The collier was now steaming slowly alongside the big liner. The ships were kept together by a hawser across the lips of theAmtonia’sbows, supplemented by a few lines across her poop; and a speed of two miles an hour was being maintained by both vessels. This kept their noses together. It also gave them a certain steadiness in the choppy sea that ran this morning. Above all, it kept the pirate ship constantly prepared, steamed up in readiness to dash away in case an enemy cruiser appeared. The lads noted that at each of the cables which held the vessels together, a man was stationed, ax in hand, to cut the strands should the emergency arise.
Bill and Osceola soon found that preparations for coaling on the high seas had already been made. Through the decks of theAmtoniathe carpenters had cut large circular holes, one directly beneath the other. In these openings, ship’s ventilator tubes were at that moment being inserted. They were then spliced together in such a manner that coal dumped on to the deck merely had to be pushed into the tubes to slide swiftly down into the bunkers.
Three temporary derricks had been erected, one fore, another amidships, and one aft, all electrically equipped. Bill was presently put in charge of the fore derrick, while Osceola crossed over to the collier, where he helped to superintend the loading of sacks and baskets with coal. These when filled were transferred from theBlake’sderricks to those of the liner, in midair. The coal was then unloaded on theAmtonia’sdeck and shoveled into the tubes by the crew.
As the sun grew higher, the weather became increasingly hotter. So hot was this work of coaling that the men were soon working clad only in pantaloons, cut short like boys’ trousers, or even in tights. There were no feminine eyes about, for all passengers were being kept below, so that occasionally the scanty loincloths were cast aside and the men worked naked. Covered from head to foot with sweat and coal dust, they soon looked like gangs of negroes. The officers fared quite as badly, for, though they were spared manual labor and so did not discard their uniforms, they soon became as grimy as the men and fully as uncomfortable.
Work was carried forward night and day, in alternate watches. To Bill it became a nightmare of heat and sweat and coal dust. The ship, usually so immaculate, took on the appearance of a coalyard, and the fine black dust filtered into even the remotest nooks and crannies. When relieved of duty, the black counterpart of that smart young Lieutenant Bolton would satisfy his hunger at a buffet, get under a shower and then to bed. Here, between coal dust coated sheets, he would snatch a few hours sleep—then hurry above for his next trick at the derrick. He began to find out that the life of an officer aboard this pirate craft was not the bed of roses it had first appeared to be. As Osceola worked and ate and slept on board theBlake, the two saw nothing of each other.
Late in the afternoon of the third day, the last of the twenty-five hundred tons of coal was transferred and shovelled down the chutes. Bill saw to the taking down of his derrick and then went below to his cabin, thankful that the dirty job had come to an end. He was getting out of filthy clothes when Osceola walked in.
“Coolheavers ahoy!” he greeted. “I’m one black warrior, if you ask me.”
“And I’ve had pleasanter jobs.”
“Oh, you’ve had a nice, comfortable deck to work on,” returned the Chief, diving into the bathroom. “You’ve nothing to complain about. I haven’t had these clothes off since the day before yesterday! Been working down in the hold of that collier at a temperature that blew the top off our thermometer.” His voice was drowned by the sound of the shower.
“That is tough! I missed you, old fellow. Where did you sleep?”
“Where did I sleep!” spluttered the Chief. “Not in a downy white bed like you—you son of luxury! I slept, or rather, I tried to sleep in a ship’s hammock!”
Bill chuckled, and began to unlace his shoes. “Pretty difficult to navigate until you get on to them. Hard to get into—”
“Harder still to stay put when you’re once in the darned thing! Gosh-all-hemlock, this water is sure a sweet, cool dream, of Paradise! Let me tell you that my hammock had to be slung between-decks—iron decks, at that. Sleep! I’ve forgotten what it is. Every time I moved in that hammock, the confounded thing dumped me onto that dirty iron deck with a jar that nearly split my head! Push that bell for a steward, please. I want food and plenty of it, and I’m going to eat it in my comfortable bed. Then, I’m going to sleepandsleep until tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, no, you’re not,” said Bill.
“And who says so?”
“Have your supper, by all means, and have it in bed if you like—but you and I have a date.”
“Date nothing! Keep it yourself. I’m only a poor Indian pirate. Neither am I popular with first class passengers.”
“Perhaps not—but this date isn’t with a passenger.”
“Who then?”
“Have you forgotten the wireless operator?”
“Gosh! Do you have to pull that stunt tonight? I’m half dead.”
“So are a few other people. That’s why I’m going to pull it off tonight. Snap out of it, old man. The fortunes, if not the lives of a lot of people depend on what we’re able to accomplish.”
“Well, what are we going to do? You never have spilled that plan of yours. Not to me, anyhow.” He came into the cabin, drying himself with a bath towel.
“You order your chow,” suggested Bill. “If you haven’t used all the hot water aboard ship, I want to get under that shower myself. When I’m dressed and you’re in your right mind, I’ve got to hunt up Charlie and see what he’s found out. We’ll be back later and I’ll explain the job in detail.”
He disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door after him to cut short further argument. It was after seven o’clock by the time Bill was dressed and ready to go on deck. He knew that Charlie would be in the passengers’ dining salon, and that was out of bounds for the ship’s officers. So leaving Osceola attending to a substantial dinner in bed, he went above to the Palm Garden, where the officers’ mess was held.
It was not a talkative crowd at dinner that evening. Every man at the table was dog tired and conversation flagged in consequence. The meal with its many courses seemed interminable to Bill. When at last it was over, he excused himself, while the others were smoking cigars and sipping liqueurs and went in search of young Evans.
Weary sailors were hard at work with hose and swabs on the promenade deck, getting rid of the accumulated grime of the coaling. Bill took a turn round to the opposite side of the ship, where he encountered a similar gang at work, but found no passengers about. Charlie was not in the smoking room. Eventually he found him, listening to the orchestra, which was playing in the lounge.
Without appearing to recognize the youngster, he caught his eye as he sauntered past, surreptitiously crooked a finger and went down to his cabin. There he found Osceola fast asleep in his bed, with all lights burning. He was wondering whether he should wake him then and there, or let him sleep, when Charlie softly opened the door and entered.
Bill put a hand up for silence, and led him into the bathroom. “Better let the poor Chief get some rest,” he said, closing the door. “He’s been going it night and day aboard that collier. He needs the sleep.”
“Well, I don’t, that’s a cinch! We’ve been kept off the decks ever since you fellows started coaling, and sleep was the only thing left to do. Say—did you see theBlakego down?”
“No. I was sure they’d sink her, though, for the Baron told me he was going to take her captain and crew aboard theAmtoniaand dispose of her as soon as we got her coal. When did it happen?”
“Just before dinner—about quarter to seven.”
“I was cleaning up in here then.”
“Well, I got a peach of a view from the smoking room windows, with Dad’s field glasses. They cut the ropes and she drifted away from us. It wasn’t five minutes later, when she gave a great lurch and went down bow first. It certainly is a crime, the way the Baron sinks good ships. I guess he had dynamite planted on board just like he did with theMerrymaid.”
“Very likely. But there’s nothing we can do about it, Charlie. Not yet awhile. But tell me, what have you found out about that wireless room?”
“Well, since that first evening when we captured theBlake, I haven’t been able to get up there. But I did manage to get in soon after the gunfire that night. I copped a couple of Dad’s cigars and gave ’em to the guy who was on duty. These Heinies are a leadpipe cinch to kid. He isn’t such a bad guy at that—showed me the whole business—everything he had. I began to think he’s a swell fellow even if he is a pirate. I got a book on telegraphy out of the library and I’ve been boning up on the Morse Code ever since. That and sleeping. Say, I bet I could send a message now. Receiving’s not so easy, though.”
“Never mind that—”
“But I’m sure I can, Bill—”
“All right—I believe you—but lay off it. I want the dope first. How many operators does this ship run to? Did you find that out?”
“Yep. There’s three of ’em.”
“How long are their watches?”
“Four hours each. But sometimes they’re on for eight hours.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, there are two on duty daytimes—”
“Never mind that either—I’m not interested in their complete schedule. How many operators are in the wireless room now?”
“Only one. He’s doing his trick from eight till midnight.”
“Good. Now we’re getting somewhere. How about from midnight on?”
“Another guy comes on duty then.”
“For how long?”
“Till eight in the morning.”
“He’s alone all that time? Are you sure?”
“Yes. The other two lads relieve him then.”
“Do you know the operator who will go on at twelve tonight?”
“Well, I’m not sure. They vary their watches, you know.”
“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Bill said to himself. “Tell me, is the door kept locked?”
“No, but they generally keep it shut.”
“Does the night operator sit facing it?”
“No. His back is toward the door.”
“Then that window in the wireless house must be to his right when he’s sending or receiving?”
“Yes, and it’s sure to be open now.”
“Thanks, Charlie. You’ve done splendidly. Run along to bed now. Osceola and I will attend to your friend later.”
Charlie’s face fell. “Aren’t you going to let me in on this?” he pleaded. “Oh, Bill, gee—I did all the work and you two are going to have all the fun!”
“Not much fun about it.” Bill grinned and was silent for a minute. “Well, I reckon we can use you. But you must remember that this is a very serious and dangerous business, Charlie. If anything goes wrong, von Hiemskirk is quite likely to have us shot out of hand. You’ll have to obey orders to the letter, and take no chances.”
“All right, Bill, of course, I will.”
“Okay. Then go to your cabin and turn in. And be back here at one o’clock sharp.”
Charlie’s face was transformed with joy. “Thanks, Bill!”
“Run along now,” directed the older lad. “I’ve got a lot to do before then. And be sure nobody sees you going or coming.”
“They won’t!” promised the youngster. “Say, are we going to shoot this operator?”
“Certainly not, you bloodthirsty wretch. None of us will have guns. Neither Osceola nor I have one.”
“Whatarewe going to do then?”
“Obey orders, kid. Get out of here now—I’m busy!”
When Charlie had gone, Bill glanced at his wrist watch. It was just ten minutes to nine. With a sigh of satisfaction, he picked up his cap. Then, snapping off the electrics in the bathroom and the cabin, he, too, went out.
It had been impossible for him to make preparations for this venture of his since its inception at the beginning of the week. As he went out on deck and forward toward the bridge, he could hardly believe that no longer ago than Monday morning, he had been flying his amphibian north to New York, with Osceola as passenger. Then had come theMerrymaid, and capture by these pirates, their flying submarine and the raider, this huge liner whose decks he was walking. That afternoon had come theOrleansaffair; in the evening the collierBlakehad been taken. Tonight, only Thursday. After the monotony of three days’ coaling, the adventures of Monday seemed far away, except when he stopped to realize that ever since then he had had no leisure whatsoever to develop his plan.
“Good evening, sir.” The guard at the foot of the stair that led to the bridge saluted, and Bill came back to the actual present with a start.
“Good evening, Schmidt.” He returned the man’s salute, and recognized him as one of his derrick’s crew. “You look so spick and span I didn’t know you at first glance.”
“Thank you, sir.” Schmidt smiled, keeping his rifle at present. “And I feel a good bit more comfortable this way, sir. Coaling is filthy work, Lieutenant.”
“Nothing dirtier.” Bill nodded and passed on up the stairs.
Above he found Lieutenant Schneider pacing slowly up and down. “Good evening,” said Bill. “Mind if I join you for a few minutes?”
“I shall be honored, Herr Lieutenant,” returned the officer. “An unlooked-for pleasure. A beautiful night, is it not? But I surmised that like the rest of the mess you turned in directly after dinner.”
“I admit I’m tired,” Bill went on chattily, “quite as tired as the other chaps, after the grind of the last few days. Chief Osceola was completely done up. Had his dinner in bed, and I found him sound asleep when I went below.”
“Don’t speak of bed,” grumbled the officer. “I wish I were there now. It is just my luck to be on duty tonight.”
“I found the cabin hot and stuffy, so I thought I’d come up for a breath of air before turning in. Heading more to northward, since we sank theBlake, I see.”
“Yes, the course is nor’nor’east now. Captain von Hiemskirk is heading the ship for the transatlantic passenger ship lane.”
“We don’t seem to be in any hurry, Lieutenant.”
“No, our speed is only sixteen knots. Everybody needs a rest, and the Herr Baron, being a wise man, is saving coal.”
“It sounds foolish of me, a ship’s officer, to admit it, but I honestly have only the haziest idea of our position now.”
“I don’t wonder at that,” laughed Schneider. “The way we changed our course during the past week would make a snake break its back. At noon today we were in latitude 38 degrees north, longitude 62 degrees west—and we aren’t far from there now at the rate we’ve been steaming.”
“Mm—I thought we were much farther east,” remarked Bill, and then changed the subject.
As he had now gained the information he wanted, he chatted for ten minutes more with young Schneider, then, wishing him good night, went below to his cabin.
Here he set the tiny alarm on his watch for twelve-thirty. From the closet, he brought forth a civilian suit of his own, and one of Osceola’s. These, together with two pairs of tennis shoes and two soft felt hats that he found in their bags, he placed on the lounge. Again he dug into the bottom of a kit bag and pulled forth a coil of rope, two monkey wrenches and a flashlight. Placing these conveniently near the clothing, he began to undress. Osceola still slept the sleep of exhaustion. Without awaking him, Bill crept into his bed and turned off the light.
It seemed but a moment or two later, though in reality three hours had crept away, when the tinkle of his alarm bell brought Bill back to a sleepy realization of the job before him. He switched off the alarm and sat up in bed. Osceola’s voice cut the throbbing drone of the ship’s machinery.
“What’s the big idea?”
“Time to get on the job,” Bill murmured in a low tone. “Had you forgotten it? Don’t turn on the light.”
“No, I hadn’t forgotten. You said something about working out a plan of yours tonight. But can’t we put it off for twenty-four hours? I’m bleary-eyed, I’m so tired.”
Bill got out of bed. “So is everybody else aboard this packet. And that’s why we’re pulling it off tonight.”
He tossed Osceola’s clothes on to the chief’s bed. “Here’s an old suit of yours—get into it.”
“Oh, if you say so—” yawned his friend. “What are we going to do with those wrenches? Crack the Baron’s safe?”
“What a pair of eyes you’ve got! I’d forgotten you could see in the dark. No, you big galoot, this is not robbery you’re in for now. We’re going to tie up the wireless operator. I want to do some broadcasting on my own.”
“So that’s the way the wind blows!” Osceola, fully awake now, was pulling on his trousers. “I have to hand it to you, boy, when it comes to action—you act!”
“Come on—I know it’s risky business, but if we’re ever going to break up this nest of pirates, we’ve got to have help.”
“You’re going to wire our position to that cruiser who was on our trail Monday?”
“And to whomever else it may concern—yes, that’s the idea!”
Osceola grunted. “And what is the Herr Baron going to be doing to us while the cruiser is trying to catch us?”
“Not a blooming thing, if the wireless man doesn’t spot who we are. I’ve got a couple of handkerchiefs cut with slits for eyeholes. We can drape them over our lovely features just like real thugs, when we get on deck!”
“Swell!” responded his companion. “Gimme one of those wrenches. I’m all set if you are.”
Bill glanced at the luminous dial of his watch. “We’ll give him three minutes.”
“Give who three minutes?”
“Charlie’s coming with us.”
“What? Not that crazy kid! He’s sure to gum the show.”
“No, he won’t. And we need a lookout, Osceola. The youngster worked like a hero, getting dope about the wireless routine. I know it’s a responsibility to let him take the risk—but the chap was so keen on being in at the death—I simply hadn’t the heart to refuse him.”
“Well, so long as this is your party, I’ll say no more about dragging Charlie into it. But I’d hate to be you if his mother finds out what you’ve let him in for.”
A crack of light appeared under the door, and Charlie opened it, slipped inside and closed the door behind him.
“Here I am,” he whispered.
“Not really,” Osceola whispered back, “why, I thought it was Christmas Eve and Santa Claus had come to fill my stocking!”
“Try the other side of your bed when you get up next time, Chief,” Charlie snickered. “Why the grouch? Don’t lose your nerve. If anybody tries to hurt you, I’ll put salt on his tail.”
Osceola laughed good-humoredly. “You young scamp, if you don’t cut the comedy and do what you’re told tonight, you’ll think you’ve had salt rubbed on yours, along with the hiding you’ll get from me.”
“Thar she blows! thar she blows!” teased Charlie. “What a whale of a guy you are, Chief!”
“Pipe down—both of you!” commanded Bill. “You make more noise than an old maid’s tea party. What do you want to do—wake up the ship?”
“Well, let’s shove off then,” said Charlie in a lower tone, and started for the door.
Bill caught his arm. “Not that way,” he warned. “The ports to this cabin are regular windows, and we’re going out through them. There’s less chance of being seen.”
“Shall I lock the door?” asked Osceola.
“No. If we’re able to pull this off, it will be a case of speed in getting back here. The door may be handier then. Come on—mum’s the word. I’ll go first—”
He stepped onto the window seat. A moment later he was through the broad porthole, and out on deck. Not a soul was in sight. A nod to Osceola brought the Chief to his side and they waited until Charlie reached the deck.
With Bill in the lead, they walked swiftly forward until they came to the open stair leading up to the boat deck. Motioning caution, Bill went silently up the rubber-coated treads with the others close behind. He knew that once above, they would be in plain sight of the bridge. Therefore, before reaching the stairhead, he dropped to his knees and crawled up to the deck level, careful to keep his head below the skyline. Then, turning back to Charlie, he drew the boy’s head close to his lips.
“I want you to stay here!” he whispered. “If anyone comes off the bridge and makes for this stair, run down to the deck below and get out of his way. When he’s gone, come back here. If anyone comes up the stair, crawl into the shadow of that lifeboat. If you see anybody at all going toward the wireless house, whistle twice and beat it back to your cabin, no matter what occurs. Got it clear, now?”
Charlie, tense with excitement and proud of the responsibility given him, nodded mutely. Then he moved to one side while Osceola slipped past him, to lie beside Bill.
Diagonally across the deck from the stairhead aft of the ship’s second funnel was a small superstructure, the little wireless house. Light shone through the open window at the forward end of the structure. Charlie, who had never seen an Indian travel over an open space when the red man didn’t wish to be seen, was surprised to see Bill and Osceola move forward flat on their stomachs. With the sinuous, wriggling motion of snakes, the two slid across the starlit deck. In a few moments he lost sight of them in the shadow of the ship’s great funnel.
“Gee,” he thought. “That sure is some stunt. Some day I’ve got to get one of those guys to show me how they do it.”
In the obscurity of deep shadow, the two plotters got to their feet and adjusted their masks.
“Can you see all right?” whispered Bill. “I wasn’t sure about the eyeholes.”
“I can see. What next?”
“Get that lad in the wireless house from the window. I’ll take the door.”
“Okay. Good luck!”
“Good luck to you. I’ll wait until I hear you speak.”
“I get you.”
Keeping always within the shadow cast by the big stack, and careful to avoid the broad ray of light from the open window, Osceola glided swiftly toward his goal.
The blond young man who sat at the open window, dozing, with a magazine in his lap, awoke with a start.
“Stick up your hands and keep them there!” muttered a low voice.
Just outside the window, the dazed operator saw a white-faced blur in the darkness. The grim figure behind the mask held a black object pointed directly at his head.
Like most North Germans, the wireless expert was a sensible young man. He held up his hands.
TheAmtonia’swireless operator heard the door at his back open and shut.
“Stand up!” ordered a harsh voice.
The man obeyed immediately, his magazine slipping to the floor. He did not turn to look at this second speaker. The shiny black object in the hand of the ominous figure outside the window held his eyes like an electric magnet.
The chair in which he had been dozing was whisked away. Strong hands gripped his wrists, brought his arms downward. With a speed and thoroughness that bespoke nautical experience, a rope lashed his arms behind his back, first at the elbows and then at the wrists.
Next, a cloth was bound over his eyes. A gag, made of a rolled-up handkerchief was stuffed in his mouth and fastened by a band of cloth tied at the back of his head. He felt wads of cotton being placed in his ears and his ankles were then strapped together. He was grasped by the shoulders, caught round the knees and lifted to a narrow couch where a cushion was slipped under his head. Deaf, dumb and blind, he nevertheless knew that he lay on the locker which ran along the farther side of the room. He also knew that locker to be little more than a narrow shelf, and at least four feet from the floor. If he moved an inch, he’d get a tumble. He therefore lay still and tried to imagine which of the passengers he had to thank for his present predicament.
“I reckon he’ll do,” said Osceola, studying the bound figure on the locker. “It’s lucky he didn’t try to put up a fight. Things might have got messy.”
“Would you have, in his place?” Bill was taking in the details of the room and spoke rather absently.
“No—can’t say I would. The poor beggar was scared stiff. That wrench stunt was a happy thought. In the darkness, I guess it passed darned well for an automatic!”
“Say, look at the map on the wall over there. These lads certainly have a system!”
“What are those colored pins stuck all over it supposed to be—ships?”
“Yes. Ships within a radius of several hundred miles that have been sending out radio messages.”
“But how does he do it?”
“Oh, I guess our little operator is clever all right. I’m no wireless expert and there are a lot of gadgets in here that I don’t understand. Undoubtedly they’re delicate instruments by which the operator is able to determine the approximate distance and direction of any ship sending out messages. You see, he keeps this map constantly before him, charted with the probable positions of ships. He changes the pins when his new readings seem to be in error. This is how the noble Baron knows exactly what is going on in his neighborhood. Just as if he were looking down on the sea from the moon with a telescope!”
“That list up there beside the chart is the key to the colored pins, I suppose.”
“Sure. There’s theStamford.” Bill pointed to a gray pin. “Well, here’s where I get busy. The sooner that cruiser is put wise to our position, the better.”
“But how did you find out where we are?” Osceola looked his surprise. “When have you had a chance to shoot the sun? Do you keep a pocket sextant up your sleeve? Or are you just guessing?”
“Nothing like that. A sight must be taken when the sun reaches it’s highest point. I got the dope tonight from Schneider. While you were asleep, I went on the bridge and got him to give me our position this noon.”
“But that’s more than twelve hours ago!”