It was the following morning, a bright, clear day, with a clean swept sky overhead, and seaward, the waves whipping up into smart little whitecaps under a brisk breeze. Breakfast was over, the Boy Scouts' bugle had sounded an assembly call, and now all were eagerly mustered about the submarine shed awaiting Mr. Barr's arrival and permission to go on board thePeacemaker.
True to his promise, the inventor had decided to make the boys participants in the trial trip of the slate-colored diving boat. Presently he appeared, accompanied by Ensign Hargreaves. Ten minutes later the chatting, laughing partywas on board thePeacemaker, and half an hour after that she was pronounced ready for the start. Mr. Barr took his place in the conning tower with Ensign Hargreaves beside him. Barton was in the engine room, sullen and uncommunicative as usual. Rob and Merritt were on deck with one of the sailors, delegated to the duty of casting off the diving boat's lines.
At last came the word from the conning tower:
"Cast off."
Rob seized a rope and cast off from the stern bitts, while the sailor performed the same operation at the bow.
"Must we come inside now?" inquired Rob, through the open hatch of the conning tower.
"Not yet; unless you wish to. I will notify you before we dive," was Mr. Barr's reply.
"Goodness, I hope he doesn't forget," said Rob laughingly, as the inventor turned on a switch and started the engines. The cigar-shaped form of the craft trembled as the powerful twin propellersbeat the water. Then, handling as perfectly as a catboat, she backed slowly out of the shed and on to the open sea.
Once outside the shed, her helmsman headed the craft about and made directly east. To Rob and Merritt, standing on the deck, the sensation was a thrilling one. Faster and faster the craft was driven till great clouds of spray compelled the two lads to seek refuge in the conning tower.
Inside the boat the hum of machinery and the vibration of the powerful engines could be plainly distinguished. Rob glanced at the speed indicator on the steel wall of the "pilot house."
"Twenty-five knots! Phew! that's going some," he gasped.
"She can make thirty-two on the surface and twenty-one under water," said the inventor calmly.
As he spoke, he drew a lever toward him and thePeacemakerappeared to leap forward like a horse under the lash.
Rob watched the handle of the indicator as it sped slowly around the dial. Up and up it crept till it stopped at thirty-two knots and a half.
"Jove! Barr," exclaimed the ensign, "this is the wonder craft of the century."
"I think I could get even more speed out of her, but I don't wish to strain the engines," was the confident reply.
"This is fast enough for me, thank you," said Rob to Merritt in an undertone.
From the conning tower lens thePeacemakerappeared to be rushing between two solid walls of water, so great was the quantity of spray she threw as she was remorselessly driven through the choppy sea. Yet the vibration was not nearly as bad as might have been expected.
"Let's go below and take a look at the engine room," said Merritt.
"All right; but I'll ask Mr. Barr's permission first," was Rob's rejoinder.
This was readily obtained, and the two boyswent below. They found their comrades gathered in the large central cabin, excitedly discussing the novelty of their voyage. Passing them, the young leader and his lieutenant made their way back into the machinery department. Barton glowered at them as they entered.
"Well, what d'ye want?" he asked gruffly.
"Merely to have a look at the engines," said Rob.
"Aw, what do you know about engines?" growled the man. "You ain't got no business in here."
"We have Mr. Barr's permission," rejoined Rob in a calm, even tone, determined not to let the fellow make him angry.
"Well, take a look around and get out quick," was the ungracious reply of the surly fellow.
Rob thought it best not to answer him, and arm in arm he and Merritt wandered among the flashing, smoothly working machinery, which, despite its size and power, was almost noiseless. Whatever his failings might be in the way of politeness,Barton must have been a good engineer, the boys decided, for every bit of metal and paintwork about the engines was polished to a brilliant finish, and the engine room was as neat as a new pin.
Rob was examining the powerful pumps when his eye suddenly fell on a bit of paper lying on the floor. He picked it up, prompted by he knew not what instinct, and found that it was covered with minute sketches, apparently of machinery. The sketches were numbered and lettered, as if they had been "keyed" for the purpose of making the diagram clearer.
He was still examining the sketches when there was a swift step behind him and a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Rob, facing about, looked into Barton's face. The engineer's countenance was livid, his eyes fairly blazed.
"Give me that paper, you young jackanapes!" he exclaimed, "and then get out of here—quick!"
"As to giving you the paper, here you are,"said Rob, quietly handing the engineer the mechanical sketches. "If I'd known they were yours, I'd have returned them to you at once. I must ask you, however, to be a little less rough in your manners. I don't know what harm we've ever done you, that you should show such a dislike for us."
"Bah!" growled Barton as he turned away, thrusting the paper into a pocket of his jumper.
After this incident neither of the boys cared to remain in the engine room, and soon joined their companions in the main cabin.
They found them chatting and laughing over different boyish topics, and Merritt joined in the fun.
But Rob, usually talkative and bright, was strangely silent. He found himself musing over the incident of the scrap of paper covered with mechanical sketches. Why had Barton become so agitated when the boy picked it up? What was there about the affair to excite the man so strangely?
Suddenly into the boy's mind there flashed a startling suspicion. But so grave was the idea that he dismissed it, or rather tried to; but with all his efforts the idea kept recurring like a dominant note in a piece of music. Rob decided to be on the watch and try to verify or disprove his suspicion, which was nothing more nor less than an idea that Barton was a traitor to his employer, and was also in the service of some powerful interests striving to get a grip on the secrets of thePeacemaker.
"That man will bear watching," decided Rob.
Scarcely had he come to this conclusion when Mr. Barr shouted down from the conning tower:
"I'm going to dive!"
The hearts of all the lads beat perceptibly quicker at the words.
They were about to descend into the unknown regions beneath the surface of the ocean, down into the dark waters where men's souls are put to a supreme test.
"Ready?" came the cry from the conning tower.
"All ready!" shouted back the lads assembled in the cabin, waiting for they knew not what.
"Then hold tight, we're going down quick."
S-w-ish-ish-ish! The roar of the water, as the powerful pumps sucked it into the submerging tanks, filled the interior of the Barr submarine. Suddenly she gave a forward plunge, and the boys now learned for what purpose several handholds were attached to the cabin walls!
"Say, this is a queer sensation, isn't it?" gasped Merritt, looking rather alarmed as the downward rush could be distinctly felt. In theengine room the electric motors had been connected, and in the conning tower the hatch which gave entrance and egress when on the surface had been clamped tightly down.
"S-s-pose we don't come up again?" exclaimed Donald.
"We haven't got an awful lot to eat on board," murmured Tubby anxiously.
"Gracious, how far down are we going?" spoke Merritt, as five minutes passed and still thePeacemakercontinued her descent into the depths of the sea.
All at once the tilting motion ceased, thePeacemaker'sstern tanks were filled, and she floated on an even keel. Leaving the care of the wheel to Ensign Hargreaves, who, as we know, was familiar with the usual type of submarine, Mr. Barr came into the cabin.
"Well, boys, what do you think of it?" he asked with a smile.
"It's g-g-great," rejoined Tubby, with a notable lack of his usual assurance.
"And now I suppose you'd like to see what the bottom of the sea looks like. We are down some two hundred fathoms and about fifty miles off the coast. Should you care to see how things look down here?"
"How will that be possible?" asked Merritt.
By way of reply Mr. Barr went to the starboard wall of the cabin and pulled a lever connecting with a worm gear. As he did so, a great section of thePeacemaker'ssteel side drew back and revealed a plate glass window set between the inner and outer "skins" of the craft.
The boys crowded round the window and peered out eagerly. But to their disappointment they could see no more of their surroundings than if they had been looking out of a train window on a dark night. It was as black as a wolfs mouth at those unknown depths.
"Why, we can't see anything," came a disgruntled chorus.
"Wait a minute," smiled the inventor.
THE BOYS CROWDED ROUND THE WINDOW AND PEERED OUT EAGERLY.THE BOYS CROWDED ROUND THE WINDOW AND PEERED OUT EAGERLY.
Pressing a button, he extinguished the cabin lights. Then he opened a sort of closet in the wall alongside the window and swung out a powerful, though small, searchlight attached to an adaptable arm in the same manner as a desk telephone.
There was a clicking sound, and a flood of white light pierced the blackness outside. The boys broke into delighted exclamations as the powerful rays revealed all sorts of fish, many of odd shapes and colors, attracted by the light.
Suddenly a dark, shadowy form swung into view. Instantly the other fish vanished, and the boys saw that the newcomer was a large shark swimming leisurely along.
No doubt he wondered who the strangers in his deep sea abode could be, for he swam up close to the window, causing the boys to shrink back. They quite forgot that between them and the tiger of the deep was a solid plate of glass as strong almost as steel.
The shark gazed at the window for an instant and then vanished. With its disappearance, the other fish reappeared and kept the submarine company, for all the world like sea gulls circling round a ship entering port.
"I wonder if they are hungry and want us to throw some food out to them," said Tubby stolidly, as he gazed at the finny tribes darting here and there in the searchlight's rays.
"Gracious, do you think that the fish have the same appetite as you have?" laughed Merritt.
"Just the same, some of those fellows would taste all right broiled," declared the stout youth, at which there was a general laugh.
After an hour spent in this manner the searchlight was switched off and the panels slid back into place.
"I think we will rise now," said the inventor; "you boys had better hold on, for we may go up pretty quick."
"I hope wedogo up," muttered Tubby, rathernervously. The stout youth was not particularly in love with the dark depths in which they were navigating. In fact, all the lads, though they did not admit it, experienced a longing for daylight. It was an awe-inspiring feeling—too awe-inspiring to be comfortable—to be in the depths of the ocean where no keel had ever before plowed.
Mr. Barr remounted to the conning tower. A minute later a renewal of the swishing sound told that the pumps were emptying the tanks at the rate of a thousand gallons a minute. The submarine could be felt to leap upward toward the surface. The boys held on for dear life, exchanging rather alarmed glances.
All at once the pace slackened, and the swishing sound ceased. Mr. Barr had decided that the pace was too swift and had cut off the pumps.
"Well, thank goodness that's over!" gasped Donald. "At the rate we were going up we'd have bounced clean out of the sea."
"I guess we're all right now," remarked Merritt.
The words had hardly left his lips when there came a jar and a bump that shook the submarine in her every frame and rivet.
The boys were thrown from their feet and hurled about the cabin. At the same instant the engines stopped and the submarine began to back, but slowly, like a stricken animal.
"We've rammed something!"
"We're sinking!"
These and a hundred other exclamations came from the alarmed boys.
Mr. Barr poked his head down into the cabin.
"Are you all right below?" he asked.
"Yes; but what has happened?"
"Have we been badly damaged?"
"Are we sinking?"
The above questions were all shouted at once in the tense excitement.
Barton, his face white as ashes, came out of his engine room.
"What did we hit?" he demanded in a frightened voice.
"I don't know; but we struck something, possibly a sunken wreck, a hard blow," was the inventor's reply. Although his face was deadly pale, his voice was without a tremor as he spoke.
"We must make an examination at once," he went on. "Andrews, Higgins, and Ross," addressing the three sailors who had appeared from forward, "make an examination forward at once and see if any of the plates have started. If you find a suspicion of a leak report to me at once."
The sailors, trained in naval discipline, saluted, and hastened off on their errand.
"If we are leaking, what are we to do?" demanded Rob.
"Meet death as bravely as we can," was the reply in steady tones; "submarines carry no boats and we must go to the bottom unless we can find some way to stop the leak."
Small wonder that the boys were strickenaghast. Barton, the machinist, flung himself face downward on a couch and began whimpering.
The inventor looked at the man with contempt.
"Stand by your engines, Barton," he commanded sternly; "the first man to shirk his duty in this emergency will have to settle with me."
Barton rose to his feet unsteadily. He was pasty yellow with terror. In his eyes was a wild look. But under the inventor's stern gaze he reëntered the engine room, shaking like a leaf.
It was then that Rob noticed that a revolver was in the inventor's hand as he stood at the top of the cabin ladder.
After ten minutes of the most painful suspense that any of the boys had ever known, the three sailors returned with the report that while one of the forward plates was bent and was leaking slightly, there appeared to be no danger.
Mr. Barr made no secret of his relief at receiving this bit of information. The boys burst into a cheer, and Barton, crouching in cowardly panic in the engine room, knew by this sound that all was well.
"Now we'll get to the surface quick and see what happened," declared the inventor.
ThePeacemaker, which all this time had been slowly backing, was sent upward once more. Assoon as they reached the surface Mr. Barr opened the conning tower hatch, and they all hastened out on deck. To their amazement the water all about was dyed crimson, and the cause was almost immediately apparent. Not far off lay the carcass of a whale, almost cut in two. This was beyond question the obstacle that the submarine had struck. Probably the dead cetacean could not get out of the way of the steel diving craft in time, or else deemed it another whale, and so was rammed by the sharp steel prow.
"Suppose that had been a solid object, like a rock, or a submerged derelict?" asked Rob.
"We shouldn't be here now," rejoined Ensign Hargreaves calmly enough, but in his voice there was palpable evidence of the relief he felt at their narrow escape.
"I guess we'll stay on the surface for a while now," decided the inventor. Accordingly, the craft was put about and headed for the island ata good rate of speed. The return voyage was made without incident, except that Tubby caused much amusement by inquiring if whale flesh was edible, and if it was, he should enjoy a broiled whale steak for dinner.
When the shed was reached the bow of the submarine was elevated by means of powerful geared tackle provided for this purpose, and the job of substituting a new plate for the damaged one was begun. It was finished by sunset.
That afternoon Rob and Merritt took the shotguns and started for the other shore of the island to see if they could not bring down some shore birds. They tramped along the beach and met with some success. Their walk brought them to the opposite shore of the island, as has been said, and they found themselves in a desolate stretch of country, nothing but sand and brush and coarse shore grass.
They were discussing the odd nature of their mission on the island, when Merritt suddenlygrasped his companion's arm and pointed seaward, toward another of the islands that have been mentioned as being scattered pretty closely in the vicinity. Rob was just in time to catch sight of a motor boat, seemingly a fast one, slipping behind the spot of land.
At the same instant a figure rose from the grass almost in front of them. It was Barton the machinist. He had apparently been concealed in the grass, and had not calculated on the boys discovering him.
"Well, what are you after now? Spying on me again, eh?" he snarled angrily.
"I don't know why you should say we were spying on you," rejoined Rob, "unless you are up to something wrong."
"What do you mean?" asked Barton, stepping quickly toward him as if to strike him.
The man's hand was upraised, but the determined way in which Rob met his angry glare caused him to drop it.
ROB WAS JUST IN TIME TO CATCH SIGHT OF A MOTOR BOAT, SLIPPING BEHIND THE SPOT OF LAND.ROB WAS JUST IN TIME TO CATCH SIGHT OF A MOTOR BOAT, SLIPPING BEHIND THE SPOT OF LAND.
"I want you to quit followin' me around, that's all," he said.
"I guess this island's big enough to hold all of us," snapped Merritt, "and as for following you around, we have other and better occupations on our hands."
The machinist made an angry reply and set off across the island at a rapid pace. As he did so an odd incident took place on the island behind which the motor boat had vanished.
On a staff which the boys had not previously noticed a red flag began to glide up and down. Sometimes it was hoisted quickly and then again slowly.
"What in the world are they doing over there?" wondered Merritt.
"I can't make out unless they are a party of crazy campers amusing themselves," rejoined Rob; and then he suddenly burst out: "By Jove, I have it; they are signalling."
"But signalling what or who?"
"I haven't decided yet; but I wonder if the same thought has occurred to you as to me?"
"Namely, what?"
"Why, that Barton was watching those signals."
"You mean that they were intended for him?"
"That's what."
"But what would they be signalling him for?"
"Only one thing that I can think of. You know what the ensign said about spies; well, if that fellow Barton isn't up to some crooked work, why should he sneak off like this and be so anxious to hide from us when we happen along accidentally? Then, too, there's that paper covered with drawings that I found in the engine room."
"By ginger, I see what you are driving at. You think that Barton is a traitor, and is in league with those spies?"
"It's a grave accusation to make, but I can hit on no other explanation of his actions. Heis angry at us because he thinks we may see too much. Look, they are still signalling."
"I wish we could read what they are saying."
"I think I can," rejoined Rob quietly.
"You can?"
"Yes."
"How are you going to do it?"
"By bringing my knowledge of Morse into play. I think that when the flag is run up slowly it means a dash and a quick run is a dot. Let's try it anyway."
Luckily the spot where the two boys were was grown with high, coarse grass, and the sand dunes rose high in places, affording protection for them.
As the flag rose and fell they spelled out a word according to the Morse code.
"That's 'Ready'," proclaimed Rob exultingly; "we have hit on their code, all right."
"They're still at it," exclaimed Merritt, as theflag continued its eccentric rises and falls; "what's next, I wonder?"
Dash—dash—dash—dash, spelled out the flag.
"That means 'to'," declared Rob.
"Yes, and there comes 'night'," exclaimed Merritt a moment later. "And now they've stopped. Let's see what message we've caught."
"Short and sweet," laughed Rob. "I guess we came in at the tail end of their confab. All we've got is 'Ready to-night'."
"Well, isn't that something?" demanded Merritt. "At all events it's a complete sentence and tells us that somebody will be ready for something to-night."
"Right you are, and that 'somebody' is to be Barton, I'll bet a doughnut."
"But ready for what?"
"That remains to be seen. I've always thought Barton would bear watching. I'm certain of it now, and if the submarine isn't mixed up in this tangle somewhere, call me a Chinaman."
"Are you going to tell the ensign about this?"
"Not till we have something more tangible to go upon. After all, we have proved nothing, but to-night we'll keep a close watch on Barton and in that way find out if our suspicions are correct or not."
And so it was arranged. The boys hunted a bit more, but somehow the strange signals and the peculiar behavior of Barton had got on their minds, and they gave up their sport earlier than they had expected and trudged back to camp to complete their arrangements for the night's work.
"Rob! Rob! Rob!"
Merritt nudged his dozing companion as they lay near to the submarine shed, where they had taken up their position earlier in the night. Immediately after supper the lads had, apparently, slipped off to their tents; but as soon as they were sure that they were free from observation they had, in pursuance of their plans, taken up a position close to the sheltering place of thePeacemaker.
Rob had dozed off shortly before midnight, and the words at the beginning of this chapter formed Merritt's notification to him that it was time to bestir himself.
The boy, aroused at once from his nap, sat up at his comrade's summons.
"What is it?" he asked in a whisper.
"Look! Look yonder! Don't you see Barton sneaking toward the shed?"
There was no moon, but in the starlight Rob, thus admonished, could distinctly discern a shadowy figure gliding across the sand dunes to the submarine shed.
"ItisBarton, sure enough!" he exclaimed in a low, tense voice. "I guess we were right, Merritt, when we read that 'Ready to-night' message."
"We sure were," was the response; "the question now is, what is that fellow up to?"
"Some sort of mischief, just as we surmised," was the reply. "Let's do an Indian crawl toward the shed and see what we can find out."
The next instant both boys were noiselessly wriggling their way on their stomachs toward the shed into the interior of which Barton had,by this time, vanished. It was easy work to make a noiseless advance over the soft sand, but so thoroughly had both the Boy Scouts practiced the maneuver of silent advance that even had the ground been different, it is likely that they could have approached unheard.
Right up to the very walls of the shed they wriggled their way and then, placing their eyes to a crack in the timbers, they peered in. By the yellow light of a lantern Barton had lighted they saw him dive down into the interior of the submarine and emerge, ere long, with several rolled sheets of paper.
The fellow did not appear to labor under anxiety that he was being watched, for he went boldly about his business, taking no apparent pains to screen the light or to move noiselessly. Having emerged from the submarine and reached once more the door of the shed, he extinguished the light and glided out into the night like a half-embodied form.
Merritt half leaped to his feet as he saw the fellow making off, but Rob drew his companion down into their place of concealment with a whispered,
"Hold on. Don't spoil everything now by betraying our presence. Let him get a little way and we'll follow him."
"But we may lose him in the darkness," objected Merritt.
"I scarcely think so," was the rejoinder; "in fact, I have a pretty good idea where he is bound for."
"And where may that be?"
"The place in which he lay this afternoon to read those signals from the distant island. Depend upon it, he is going to meet the men who manipulated that flag!"
"By hooky! That's so, Rob. What a mind you have for figuring out things! Of course, it's plain enough now that he is betraying Mr. Barr by giving drawings and plans of the submarineto Mr. Barr's enemies, but I didn't think he'd take so bold a method."
"There's nothing very bold about it," retorted Rob. "He is a trusted man, and has been given every opportunity to be dishonest, if it so suits him."
"I guess that's right; but it's our duty to thwart him."
"You just bet it is, and we'll do it, too, if it's possible. See, there he goes over the top of that sand dune. I could see his figure silhouetted against the sky. I reckon it's safe now to take after him."
"All right, you say when."
"I'll give the word right here. Silently, now; remember he is on the outlook for some interference with his plans, and a false move may spoil everything."
"Don't worry about me. A first class Scout should be able to carry through a simple little thing like this."
"Don't be too sure it's simple," admonished Rob, as they silently rose from their crouching postures and took after the vague shadow; "this thing may turn out to be bigger than we thought."
"Have you laid any plans as to what you will do if we do apprehend him in the act of transferring the plans to Mr. Barr's enemies?"
"Not yet. There's no use crossing a bridge till you come to it."
Through the night the boys pursued their quarry as silently as two snakes. At times they lost sight of him, but always his figure would loom up against the star-sprinkled sky as he topped a sand dune. At length they saw him pause and light the lantern, which he had used in the shed, and which he still carried.
This done, he swung the light twice across his body, after the fashion of a brakeman signalling a train to come ahead.
Instantly, out of the darkness, flashed an answeringbeacon—a red light. The boys clasped each other's arms. That they were on the brink of an exciting adventure they did not doubt. But in each lad's heart was a firm resolve that, come what might, they would do their duty by Uncle Sam.
"Was that red light shown from the other island?" whispered Merritt.
"No, I am inclined to think it came from that launch we saw sneaking in behind the island this afternoon just before the signalling commenced," was the response.
"In that case, she must be still far out?"
"Yes; but in any event they would have to send a boat ashore. That launch is too large to land on the beach directly."
As if in answer to his opinion the watching boys presently saw a red light creeping over the water toward the island. Undoubtedly it came from a small boat, so low on the water was it.
Before long they could detect the splash ofoars, although whoever was rowing the boat was trying to make as little noise as possible.
As the light drew close in shore, Merritt seized Rob's arm.
"What's the next move?" he asked.
"It looks as if it were ours," was the quiet, but determined, rejoinder.
While the boys had been watching, Barton had lain down, as though tired, on the summit of a near-by dune. As the red light came close in shore, however, he arose, and once more waved his lantern.
At the signal the course of the red light shifted and headed directly toward him. The boys' hearts beat thickly; the time for action was at hand. The bow of the boat they had seen approaching grated on the beach, and two figures sprang out while Barton advanced to meet them.
"Get as close as you can," whispered Rob, as he wriggled forward; "we want to get every word."
Merritt merely nodded; but his silent advance was as rapid as his leader's. Owing to the nature of the ground, they were able to run forward in an almost upright position when they reached the hollows of the dunes, being compelled to cast themselves down only when they topped a rise. Therefore, they were within ear shot when Barton greeted the two men who had disembarked from the boat.
"Well," said one of the newcomers in a voice which plainly betrayed his foreign origin; "well, did you do as you said you would?"
"Yes," responded Barton; "I've got the drawings here. They are not complete, however, and you will have to give me more time."
"As you were told at Bridgeport, before you left for this island, you can have all the time you want, only make the job complete."
"You can depend upon me to do that," was the response. "So long as I'm well paid, I'll sell out all I know, and that's about everything about the Barr submarine."
Here another voice, that of the second man who had left the boat, struck in:
"What about the models?"
"I've got them hidden up here in the sand," came Barton's voice in reply. "I'd have had them ready but two blooming kids trailed me here."
"Trailed you? What do you mean?" demanded the voice of the man who had first spoken and who, with the solitary exception noted, had carried on most of the conversation.
"Why, this Ensign Hargreaves, this Navy dude, saw fit to bring a band of Boy Scouts down here. They're the nosiest kids ever, and I half think they suspect me of not being all I appear to be."
"That's a good guess," whispered Rob to Merritt.
Merritt could not refrain from a quiet chuckle.
"As a long distance and local guesser, Barton takes the palm," he breathed.
"Hush!" murmured Rob under his breath: "What are they up to now?"
"Going to dig up those models, I guess. Barton must have stolen them from the workshop at odd moments."
Right then something happened that gave Merritt a shock. Rob rose to his feet and started toward the beach. The men that the two Boy Scouts were watching had headed inland, evidently to aid Barton in uncovering the hidden models.
"Have you gone crazy, Rob? Lie down here," cautioned Merritt.
"Not much," was the response; "I'm going to do some reconnoitering while I've got the chance."
"What do you mean?"
"That I'm going down to have a look at that boat, and if I can I'm going to shove her off and thus leave those men prisoners on the island."
"By ginger, Rob, you are a great fellow for ideas. If only you can cast the boat adrift, we'll have those chaps bottled up as securely as if they were in a jail."
"Wait here till I come," responded the boy leader. "I won't be gone more than ten minutes."
"I'd like to come with you, Rob."
"No; this is a job I can do best alone."
Rob noiselessly slipped away. The boat from which the mysterious men had landed was plainly discernible as a black blot on the sandy beach. Rob tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, but against the white strip of sand he felt as noticeable as an elephant. However, he gained the boat without interruption.
Its bow had been built up, apparently, to make it more seaworthy, and the boy noticed that a small door had been cut leading into the space beneath the raised bow. He had hardly discoveredthis when he was startled to hear voices close at hand.
It was Barton and his crooked accomplices coming back. Fortunately for Rob, they were behind a dune, so that it was impossible for them to observe him. But in a moment, the boy realized with a thrill, they would be upon him.
Quick as a flash, and hardly realizing what he was doing, Rob sought the only place of concealment close at hand—the space under the raised bow of the boat. He had hardly squeezed into his cramped quarters before the trio of rascals topped the rise.
Rob, with a sinking of the heart, realized at that moment that it would have been better for him to have taken his chances and run away from the scene. But it was too late now. With something that was not exactly fear, but very like it, Rob recognized the fact that he was a concealed passenger, a stowaway, on board a boat on which his presence might cost him his life.
As these reflections ran through his mind the men drew closer, talking about the "clever" work they had done.
"I guess Barr and hisPeacemakercan say good-bye to Uncle Sam now," laughed one of them.
"Yes, and the best of it is that Barton will never be suspected," responded the other. "Our government will be manufacturing submarines of the Barr type, while Barr and the United States Government are still in blissful ignorance of the fact that all efforts are for nothing."
"You can bet I never put through a job unless I do it right," struck in Barton with great self-complacency.
Rob, crouched in his cramped place of concealment, flushed with anger. Right then and there he determined that, come what might, he would see this strange adventure of his through to the bitter end. This resolve was still in his mind when the two men shoved the boat off,bade good-night to the rascally Barton, and, all unconscious of their secreted passenger, got under way.
"If I get out of this alive, I'll be lucky," soliloquized Rob as he heard the oars and felt the boat moving through the water. "I wonder if I've done right? At any rate I'm in it now, and, as a Boy Scout, I'm going to see it through."
Rob, in his place of concealment, could hear the two men talking as they rowed.
Their conversation related, in the main, to the affairs of the night. Apparently, so far as Rob could gather, the stealing of the plans of the submarine was not yet complete. It appeared that Barton was to remain on the island in his capacity as trusted aide to Mr. Barr, and to gather up all he could of the details of the new submarine, down to the smallest particular.
Scarcely daring to breathe, Rob listened with all his might to the conversation of the oarsmen.
At the same time the thought was running through his mind that he had acted rashly intaking the step he had. But the boy pluckily made up his mind to stick to his resolution of discovering just what was going on inimical to the plans of the United States Government and Mr. Barr.
Before very long the prow of the boat grated on a sandy beach, and the two men, gathering up some rolls of paper and several bulky-looking objects, left the craft, first securing it by an anchor and line.
As their footsteps died away, Rob ventured to raise his head above the gunwale of the boat and follow them with his eyes. He saw them ascend the beach and enter the hut, apparently a structure once used by fishermen or hunters.
After an interval a light shone from the solitary window of the hut, and Rob came to a sudden resolve to find out just what was going forward. With this object in view he clambered out of the boat, taking every precaution againstmaking unnecessary noise. On hands and knees he then approached the lighted window.
The night was dark, and, standing at a fair distance from the casement, he did not feel much fear of being seen from within. It is hard for persons in a brightly lighted chamber to perceive what is going on outside.
Seated around a rough table in the hut, which consisted of only one room, Rob saw three men. Two of them, undoubtedly, were those who had unconsciously rowed him to the island. The other he recognized with a start as the possessor of the face which had peered through the transom on the memorable night in Hampton, when plans for the experiments on the island were in process of being formulated. In other words, the third member of the party was none other than Nordstrom Berghoff, the spy.
Instantly many things that had been vague to Rob crystallized into a clear understanding of the situation. The signals from the island, theindignation of Barton over the presence of the Boy Scouts, and the stealing of the plans and models, all stood out plainly now as being part of an elaborate plot of which Berghoff was the mainspring.
A wave of indignation swept over the boy as he contemplated the rascals within the hut gloating over the things they had obtained from the treacherous Barton.
"The scoundrels," he thought; "so they think they can rob Uncle Sam of one of the greatest submarines ever invented, and do so with impunity! I don't care what happens, I'll fool them if I can."
With this resolve firmly embedded in his mind, Rob crept closer to the window. By skillful maneuvering he was at last almost under the casement. In this position every word uttered within the hut was clear to him.
He heard Berghoff chuckling gleefully over the manner in which the night's work had been carried out.
"Undt not a vun of dose Boy Scouts knew anting aboudt idt," he exclaimed.
"No," rejoined one of his companions, a swarthy man with a pallid face on which there stood out a bristly beard; "those kids were out of the game so far as we were concerned. That Barton is a slick one, all right."
"Well, he's getting well paid for the job," struck in the third man, who was short and stocky, with a crop of rough, reddish hair and a protruding chin that gave him a "bull doggy" aspect.
"Of course, he gedts vell paid," rejoined Berghoff; "dis job is vorth de naval supremacy of the worldt to der country vot I represent."
"As if we didn't know that as well as you," rejoined the red-haired man. "It was lucky we worked in the same machine shop in Bridgeport with Barton and knew he was a man who could be bought."
"Yes, there isn't much that he wouldn't do for money," chimed in the pallid-faced man.
"Vell, ledt us see if dese plans are all righdt, or if ve must get some more of dem," remarked Berghoff.
From his manner of examining the intricate prints and plans, Rob knew that the man, as were most probably his two companions, was an engineer of no mean ability. With a small pocket scale he went over every scrap of paper and then fell to examining the models. From his expression, Rob judged that Barton had served the rascal well. Berghoff declared the plans and the models all that would be required to produce aPeacemakeralmost the exact duplicate of Mr. Barr's diving-boat.
"Well, when do we make our getaway?" queried the red-haired man when the examination was concluded.
"To-morrow ve go," declared Berghoff. "In New York I catch der steamer for Europe undt you two scatter verefer you like."
Rob felt his face flush with indignation, andat the same time he experienced a sort of hopeless feeling of indecision. The plans and the models lay there, almost within his reach, but so far as the possibility of recovering them was concerned, they might as well have been in China.
"If only all the boys were here," he thought, "it would be possible to 'rush' those scoundrels and secure all their loot."
Finally Rob came to the decision to remain where he was for the present and see if some opportunity would not present itself to recover the articles of such vital importance to Uncle Sam's Government.
The men talked on, conversing in low tones, and presently the red-headed man started to prepare some food on an oil stove, which must have been brought from the motor boat earlier in the day. Till sundry appetizing odors began to drift out to him from the plotter's cookery, Rob did not realize that he was hungry. Beforelong, however, his desire for food became almost overwhelming. It was tantalizing to lie out there in the dark, tired and hungry, and hear within the hut the clatter of knives and forks and inhale the odors of what was evidently a hearty meal.
At length the men stopped eating, and Rob heard them discussing whether they should sleep in the hut or on board their motor boat. The boy pricked up his ears as he listened. If only they decided to sleep on the boat and leave the models and plans in the hut, he would have a chance to recover the stolen property and make away with it in the beached rowboat before dawn.
Rob could hardly restrain an exclamation of delight when the men came to the decision to pass the night on their boat.
"What are you going to do with this stuff?" inquired the pallid-faced man with the stubbly beard, indicating the mass of papers and models.
"Oh, we'll leave that here till morning," was Berghoff's response; "dere is no use in taking idt by der boat now."
"Goodness," thought Rob, "I sure am in luck! It will be no trick at all to get that stuff as soon as they have gone, and carry it back to the island. I almost wish it was going to be a harder task. It's a bit too much like burglary to suit me."
But Rob was not to have such an easy time of it as he anticipated.
The men left the hut, banging the door behind them. Rob waited till the sound of their voices grew dim in the distance, and then raising himself cautiously he crept around to the door of the hut.
The light had been extinguished, but as the boy had matches in his waterproof case this fact did not worry him. Pushing the door open Rob entered the place. Before striking a light he did all he could to assure himself that he was not likely to be interrupted by the sudden return of the men.
Having established to his satisfaction that he was safe, which was not until he perceived alight on the motor boat, which lay not far from the hut, he proceeded to light up the lantern the men had left behind.
Anxious not to lose any time on his risky task, he began stuffing papers and plans into his pockets at once. The models, or most of them, he decided he would have to convey to the boat in his arms.
He had hardly completed the task of stowing the papers in his pockets, when he was startled at hearing footsteps coming toward the hut. Hastily he extinguished the light, uttering an inward prayer that it had not been seen. Luckily for himself he had taken the precaution of closing the door as soon as he had the lantern lighted.
Just before extinguishing the lamp, he had gazed about the place for some spot of concealment. But the hut, as has been said, was a crude affair, and no closets or cupboards presented a chance of hiding. The only thing that Robcould think of to do was to slip under the table and trust to a miracle that he would not be discovered. Hardly had he carried out his intention when the door opened and two men entered.
They were the red-headed man and the pallid-faced individual, who appeared to act as assistants to Berghoff. At any rate, judging by their accents, they were foreigners.
Rob had placed the lantern on the table in a position as much resembling that in which the men had left it as he could. He heard a match scratched and then the sputter of the flame.
"Don't see why Berghoff sent us back to get that stuff," grumbled one of the men angrily; "it's as safe here as it would be anywhere."
"Well, as we're getting good pay fer this job, we might as well obey orders," was the reply.
"Gee whillakers!" came a sudden exclamation from the man who had attempted to light the lantern.
"What's up?" asked the other.
"Why, the plagued thing is red hot!"
"Red hot?" exclaimed his companion in tones of amazement. "How can that be when it's a good half hour since we put it out?"
"Dunno, but it burned my fingers, all right."
"Say, Mike, do you think anyone has been here since we left?"
"Who could have been here? And yet, come to think of it, it's blamed queer. Tell you what we'll do."
"What?"
"Search this place. It won't take long."
"Good for you," rejoined the other, while Rob quaked in his place of concealment.
"There ain't many nooks or crannies, so the job won't take long."
"That's right. We'll begin by looking under the table——Jeehosophat!"
The sudden exclamation was caused by Rob's suddenly springing up, upsetting the table and planting his fist full in the fellow's face. Thelantern was dropped in the excitement and the hut was plunged in darkness. Rob had come to his sudden decision to act as he did as the only way to escape the men.
For a time it looked as if he would be successful. Dashing past the man who remained on his feet he made for the direction in which he knew the door lay. In fact, as the men had not closed it, he had no difficulty in locating it by the starlight outside.
"Hey! Stop! Stop!" roared the fellow behind him.
Rob sped on like the wind, using every ounce of running ability he possessed. Straight for the beach he made, devoting all his energies to a swiftly formed plan to get into the beached boat and row to safety. It was a desperate plan, but he had no other resources.
He was within a few yards of the beach when a dark form loomed suddenly before him. In the starlight Rob saw something glittering inthe newcomer's hand. This object was leveled at him, and a stern voice commanded him to stop or be shot.
Rob, with a throbbing heart, pulled up. He recognized the voice as that of Berghoff and knew that if he did not obey the order the desperate ruffian would have no hesitation in sending a bullet into him.
Berghoff, who had been aroused by the cries of his aides when Rob escaped from the hut, came up to the lad, keeping him covered with his wicked-looking "gun."
"Who are you? What you doing here?" he demanded sternly.
The next moment, and before Rob could reply, the fellow noted the Boy Scout uniform.
"Oh, ho!" he exclaimed in a malignant tone. "So you are one of dose Boy Scouts, eh? You think you pretty smart, eh? You vait. I may make you pay for your fun."
There was a cold sort of malice in the man'sway of speaking that actually sent a chill down Rob's spine.
But he plucked up courage to make a bold reply.
"I know the sort of illegal trafficking you are engaged in, Berghoff," he said boldly, "and I tell you, you had better leave me alone."
"Is dot so?" sneered the fellow. "You haven't seen the last of me for a long time yet."
"My friends will punish you for this," exclaimed Rob, in as confident a tone as he could assume.
"It vill be a long time alretty before you see your friendts again," jeered the other. "Ah, here comes Mike and Gyp, now. Now ve findt out what you vos doing up by der hut."
As the spy had said, the two men who had been in the hut came up at the moment.
Berghoff instantly demanded to know what had occurred in the hut.
"By gosh, cap," said the red-headed man who,it seemed, was "Mike," "it happened so sudden I can hardly tell you. We goes up there to get them papers as you told us, and the first thing you know out jumps this young catamount and hits me a swat on the jaw that 'most put me out fer the count."
"That's right," corroborated his companion; "that's just what he done, cap."
"How did he get here?" demanded Berghoff angrily.
"Dunno, unless he flew," rejoined Mike helplessly. "Hadn't we better search the young varmint and see what he's got in his pockets?"
"Yes, you had better search him at once."
"My last chance has gone," thought Rob as the two fellows seized him roughly and began rummaging his pockets.
It would have been worse than useless to resist, so Rob submitted to the search, while Berghoff stood looking grimly on as the papers were extracted from his pockets by the two ruffians.
"If only I'd hurried a little more," thought Rob to himself bitterly. "If only I'd hurried, I'd not have been in this predicament now."
"So you almost got avay mit vot you came after," exclaimed Berghoff as the last of the papers was removed from Rob's pockets and handed over to the spy; "it voss an inspiration dot made me send my men back by der huts."
"What will we do with the kid?" asked the man known as Mike.
"I don't know yet," was the rejoinder in a harsh voice. "Ve ought to throw him in der sea. He knows too much aboudt us."
"That's right, cap," came from Gyp, the pallid-faced man, "it's just as Barton told us, these blamed Boy Scouts are on to us."
"Vell, it don't be goodt to get ridt of him righdt now. Better bring him aboard the boat."
"All right, cap. Come on, you young sneak!" said the man known as Mike.
He gave Rob's arm a vicious twist, and withone of the men on either side of him, and Berghoff walking close behind with the revolver, there was no recourse for Rob but to accept the situation as it came. But in mind he was casting about desperately for a means of escape. None had occurred to him by the time they reached the motor boat, which was moored at a tumble-down wharf, or jetty.
The motor boat proved to be a sixty-foot affair, with a cabin amidships. Into this Rob was gruffly ordered.
"Get aboard now, and look slippy about it," was Mike's way of urging the Boy Scout on board the craft.
Rob obeyed the order with a sinking heart Things looked about as black as they could be, so even his optimistic nature was compelled to admit.
Once inside the main cabin Rob was thrust into a small stateroom opening off the larger apartment. He heard the lock click as the door was slammed to, and knew that he was a prisoner.
It was dark inside the cabin, but by feeling about he discovered a bunk on one side of the place. Critical as his situation was, the boy was so tired that he flung himself down on this, and, before long, while still pondering his quandary, he sank into a deep slumber.
When he awakened it was broad daylight. By the motion of the craft Rob knew that she was at sea. Getting up from the bunk he peered out ofthe small porthole of the stateroom. Outside nothing but the ocean was to be seen. Of course the boy had not the slightest idea where they were, or how long the boat had been running.
All he did know was that he was a prisoner, ravenously hungry, achingly thirsty and almost fagged out. His slumbers had been uneasy and had not refreshed him.
Outside he could hear voices in the larger cabin. Crawling to the keyhole he listened intently. Berghoff was talking. Rob heard enough to convince him that the plans of the band had been changed.
"There vill be a big hue undt cry ven dey findt oudt der boy is gone," declared Berghoff. "We must findt some place where we can stop till der excitement dies out."
"That's right, cap," agreed one of his companions, "but where can we go?"
"There are plenty of small islands further down the coast. One of those would suit ourpurpose," struck in another voice, which Rob recognized as that of the pallid-faced Gyp.
"Dot's a good idea," agreed Berghoff; "gedt out der chart and look one up."
The voice sank into inaudibility and Rob threw himself back on the bunk. At least he knew now what to expect, isolation and captivity with three desperate men. It would be wrong to say the lad was frightened. Possibly the very nature of his predicament had dulled his brain, as is sometimes the case.
"I wonder if they are looking for me now?" he mused, and with the thought came a glad realization that Merritt knew of the signals from the island and would inform the ensign of them.
"If they only follow me up quickly, maybe they can overtake this craft," he said to himself, "although she's a fast one."
At this juncture of Rob's cogitations the door was thrust open and Gyp entered with some food and water.
He placed them on the floor and started to leave the room in sullen silence, when Rob stopped him.
"What are you going to do with me?" he demanded.
"Don't ask no questions and you'll get told no lies," growled the man, slamming the door and relocking it on the outside.
"Well," thought Rob, "it's plain that I'm to be kept in the dark as to my fate. Well, it's no use worrying. I'll tackle this food and take a good long drink of water and then see if I can come to any conclusion."
The meal brightened Rob up wonderfully. After eating it he sat on the edge of the bunk casting about for something to keep his mind off his troubles, when he suddenly recollected the mysterious cipher found on theGood Hope.
Reaching into his pocket he pulled it out and began figuring with the stump of a pencil on the back of an old envelope. But ingenious ashe was, he found it hard to decipher. He tried half a dozen well-known systems on it and was about to give up in despair when he recalled the "Letter" method of reading cryptic numeral ciphers.
This system requires the operator to figure out the recurrence of different numerals and the order in which they appear. Rob noticed that the number 5 occurred most frequently. Now E is the most used letter in any bit of English writing, so the lad set down 5 as answering for E.
After this he figured industriously till he had managed to make something like sense out of the first paragraph of the old writing.
It would be wearisome to take the matter step by step in all its details. Suffice it to say, therefore, that Rob found that he had hit on a correct system and at the end of two hours had the following message before him.
"It is buried twenty-four paces from deadcypress and to the west. The island lies in long. 80 degrees 50 minutes and lat. 33 degrees 24 minutes. To whoever finds this and reads it, I will the ivory. Death is close to me now. Good bye to all."
When his task had been completed, Rob sat gazing at the paper before him. Unquestionably it gave the location of the dead whaler's cache. For an instant the boy thought, with a thrill, that he was within reach of a fortune. But the next moment he recalled where he was, which, in the interest of his task, he had forgotten. Then, too, he remembered that the dead man's two companions who marooned him on his own ship had probably carried out their intention of returning and carrying off the precious hoard.
"So that's all of that," mused the boy, "but just the same, if I ever get out of this scrape, I mean to hunt up that island and see if I can locate the fate of those mammoth tusks."
All day the boat moved swiftly along, and itwas not till the following morning that anchor was dropped, as Rob knew by feeling the motion of the craft stopped, and by hearing the rattle of the anchor chain.
"I wonder what is going to happen to me now?" he mused.
He had not long to wait.
"Come out on deck and help us row the dinghy ashore," Gyp muttered as he unlocked the door.
Heartily glad to get out of his cramped quarters, Rob obeyed.
Coming on deck he found Berghoff and Mike already there. The former had a formidable-looking revolver strapped on him. The boat was lying off a small, sandy island, isolated from the others, in one of the groups that are common on that part of the coast.
It was wooded and appeared to be a fine spot for Berghoff's purpose of remaining in seclusion till Rob's friends gave him up for lost, and the mystery of his capture blew over.
The dinghy, which hung on the davits astern, was lowered, and Rob roughly told to "pile in and row us ashore." He obeyed the order, noticing that in the boat were tent and camping supplies. Evidently these had been placed in it before he was called on deck.
His heart sank as he observed these preparations for an extended stay on the lonely island. Once ashore, he was forced to help in putting up the tent, building a fire and doing other jobs to make the camp habitable. Then, without food, he was set to chopping wood. After a hasty meal, Berghoff disappeared, leaving Rob guarded by Gyp and Mike, who lay at full length smoking lazily while he worked.
When Berghoff returned he announced that there was no trace of humanity on the island. With this statement vanished Rob's last hope of help. He had nourished a secret aspiration that there might be some campers or fishermen living on the place.
When the sun set that night Rob's feelings were down to zero. The very fact that he was not closely watched seemed to prove to him the utter impossibility of his escaping. True, there was the boat, but that had been drawn up on the beach by his wily captors so that it would be impossible for him to move it without attracting their attention.