. . . . . .
It was Donald, the Wolf Scout, who saved the day for the prisoners of the submarine.
As Barton rolled about whimpering and cursing by turns, he spied a bright object protruding from the man's pocket.
"Is—is that the lever?" he asked, in tones that trembled with excitement.
Mr. Barr darted on the object and pulled it out with a shout of triumph.
"Once more the Boy Scouts have saved the day!" he cried. "It is the lever, sure enough!"
Close as the atmosphere of the cabin had by this time become, they all found breath enough to give three ringing cheers. In the conning tower Merritt, at the wheel, heard them, and guessed what they meant.
Fifteen minutes later the submarine was shootingupward to the surface toward the blessed air. With what speed the hatch was opened when they reached the surface and could inhale the pure ozone once more, may be imagined. As soon as they had somewhat recovered a red light was shown from the stern, and presently theVipercame chugging up.
"Well, where in the world have you been?" asked Tubby.
"Whereunderthe world, you mean," laughed Merritt; "but for a time it was no laughing matter, I assure you."
He then gave his fellow Scout a description of all they had undergone. When the excitement was over, word was given to get under way once more, and with the submarine leading, and theViperfollowing the red light, they held their courses toward the south.
It was dawn when they found themselves off a maze of small islands and islets. Donald had the wheel, and was gazing ahead as the submarine,at reduced speed, threaded her way among the shoals and sand bars.
All at once he saw something coming toward them that made his pulses beat far above normal.
It was a green motor boat, with a single military mast and a high cabin.
He lost no time in notifying everybody, and the submarine decks were soon crowded.
"Better get below, boys," warned the ensign; "that is undoubtedly the rascals' boat. In fact, Merritt says he recognizes it. They are desperate fellows, and when they see we have them cornered, they will put up a fight. If they run, I mean to pursue them to the bitter end."
Reluctantly the boys went below, while the ensign and Mr. Barr stood on the foredeck, revolvers in hand.
But although whoever was on the green boat must have seen them, the craft came right on.
"Why, they actually mean to fight," gasped Mr. Barr.
"They're nervy fellows, all right," commented the ensign; "we may have a tougher time of it than we think, Barr."
He turned and warned Tubby to take his boat back out of range. On and on came the green boat without making a sign of any kind, hostile or otherwise.
"What can they be up to?" wondered the ensign in tones of blank amazement.
Scarcely twenty feet intervened between the two boats now, when suddenly a boyish figure, bareheaded and clad in a Boy Scout uniform, leaped to the rail of the green craft.
"Kre-ee-ee-ee!" he shrilled out.
"The call of the Eagle Patrol!" gasped Mr. Barr.
"Yes, and by all that's wonderful, that lad is Rob Blake!" fairly shouted the ensign, waving his cap.
By this time Tubby, too, had recognized his leader. The air rang with cheers, shouts, questions and answers in a perfect babble of sound.
"Well, who on earth but a Boy Scout could get himself kidnapped and then kidnap his abductors' boat!" exclaimed the ensign that evening as they lay at anchor off Rob's "Ivory Island."
The climax of a wonderful day had been reached. Only one thing marred it. The rascals who had pursued Rob, for he only got the engine going in the nick of time, had got clear away in the rowboat. Possibly they hailed a passing steamer and were picked up.
But, after all, their escape, while annoying, was not of so much importance, for in their haste they had left behind the most important papers and models, and the ones they had taken were valueless, Mr. Barr declared, without the missing ones.
The next day, after a long evening of jollity, theViperset out for Jamesport, S. C., with the unfortunate Barton bound with ropes to keep him from further violent manifestations. Thepoor man never recovered his reason, but died shortly after being admitted to an asylum. It appeared that in his youth he had been an inmate of an institution for the feeble-minded, but had been discharged as cured.
On theViper'sreturn, work was begun on transferring the ivory, which was ultimately sold for an amount that netted all of them a handsome sum; for Rob insisted on sharing his good fortune with all his comrades.
The ensuing days, following the return to the island, were filled to overflowing with activity. Exhaustive tests only made thePeacemakerappear to be more and more the ideal type of boat for her particular work. By means of the island wireless Ensign Hargreaves, using "code" of course, sent glowing accounts to Washington of the progress of the tests. In these despatches, too, the Boy Scouts were favorably mentioned for their pluck and heroism in the pursuit of Berghoff and his rascally companions.
One day, about two weeks after the return to the island, it was determined by the ensign andMr. Barr to make quite a run out to sea to test to the full the endurance capacity of thePeacemaker. Rob and Merritt were chosen to accompany them. The rest of the boys were left to guard the island, which, among other valuable property, now housed the precious ivory hoard recovered in such a strange manner.
The day dawned with a red, angry sky proclaiming nasty weather. But this, instead of dampening the ardor of the inventor and his aides, only increased it. It meant that the submarine was in for a real test in a bad sea.
By the time they were ready to start, the wind had freshened into half a gale and a high sea was running, heaping up big gray combers with white tops which broke angrily.
Into this storm thePeacemakerwas headed without hesitation. On board were the ensign, the inventor, Rob and Merritt. The two latter were to serve watch and watch in the engine room, while the inventor and the ensign placedthemselves under a similar arrangement in the conning tower.
Both Rob and Merritt were by this time fully conversant with the running of thePeacemaker'sintricate machinery and were trusted to the full by their superior officers.
"Gee! This feels like being afloat in an empty bottle!" exclaimed Merritt as thePeacemakerheaded into the tumbling seas.
"It sure does," responded Rob, hanging on to a handhold while he oiled a bearing. "I suppose they want to see how much she'll stand on the surface."
"Wonder they wouldn't dive and give us a chance to get a little quiet," observed Merritt as the rolling, buckingPeacemakerleaped, as it seemed, skyward and then plunged dizzily down again.
"There must be a hummer of a sea outside. Guess, as I'm off duty, I'll go up and see what's doing," said Rob presently.
He made his way with much difficulty toward the steel ladder leading into the conning tower. The passage could only be made by fits and starts, and the boy for the first time realized the necessity of the handholds placed at frequent intervals on the cabin walls, to which reference has already been made.
Reaching the ladder he scrambled up into the conning tower, and, once inside, braced himself against the wild and erratic motions of thePeacemaker. To see through the lenses was impossible. The seas that swept over the little craft blurred the glass with green water and obscured everything outside. But on thePeacemakerthis condition did not matter. The contingency had been provided for.
The long arm of the periscope with its "eye" on top had been raised, and it reached far above the biggest combers. In front of the helmsman, who happened to be Mr. Barr, was a big plate of ground glass on which every object outsidewas plainly shown, although of course in miniature. Those of my readers who have ever seen a "camera obscura" will recognize what I mean.
Upon the ground glass, as within a picture frame, was reproduced the motion of the furious seas, the scurrying clouds and the angry storm wrack. It was an inspiring marine painting, with the motion and sweep that an actual painting could never possess. It thrilled Rob as he gazed at it and realized that it was through this pandemonium of the storm that thePeacemakerwas bravely fighting her way.
"Better slow down a bit, hadn't I?" asked Mr. Barr as thePeacemaker, urged by her powerful engines, ploughed right through a mountainous sea.
As she bored her way through the mighty wall of green water, a roar like that of a railroad train resounded and the craft pitched as if she were going to plunge to the bottom of the sea.This latter, in fact, Rob rather wished she would do. He knew that in the depths all would be quiet and undisturbed.
In reply to Mr. Barr's question, the ensign nodded.
"The strain is already pretty strong," he said; "we don't want to force her too hard."
Accordingly the inventor, utilizing the auto control device, cut down the speed till, instead of ploughing through the waves, thePeacemakerskimmed over them. Unlike most submarines, which cannot do otherwise than plunge into heavy seas, thePeacemaker'shull was so constructed that she rode the waves like a duck.
After a while the sensation of heaving and falling began to get upon Mr. Barr's nerves.
"I'm feeling a bit squeamish," he declared; "let's dive and get out of this."
The ensign nodded and laughed.
"Our friend Rob here is getting a bit pale, too," he said; "and as we don't want a sea-sickcrew, maybe we had better seek the seclusion of Davy Jones' locker."
An instant later thePeacemakerwas plunging downward. At a depth of twenty feet the angry motion of the waves was unfelt. In those dim depths all was as quiet and undisturbed as if the elements were at perfect peace above.
Down, down dropped the submarine till her depth indicator showed that she was submerged five hundred fathoms.
"The chart gives seven hundred hereabouts," commented Ensign Hargreaves, glancing at it; "so I guess we are safe for forty miles more before the floor of the ocean slopes upward. We must go up a bit higher then."
The inventor nodded.
"I understand," he said, and then, "we are now running at what speed?"
The ensign turned to the speed indicator.
"A trifle under twenty miles an hour," he said.
Mr. Barr glanced at the clock before him,which was illuminated by a tiny shaded electric bulb.
"I'll keep on this course at this speed for about two hours then," he determined.
"That will be all right, I imagine," was the rejoinder, "but don't keep on too long. The bed of the sea, according to the chart, rises up very rapidly further on. It must be almost cliff-like in its sudden elevation."
"I'll be on the lookout," the inventor assured him.
Rob descended the ladder once more and reëntered the engine room to find out how Merritt was getting along. He found the young engineer seated on the leather lounge alongside the engines watching them lovingly.
"Work smoothly, don't they?" he said.
"They sure do," was the other's response; "smoothly as a Geneva watch."
The boys sat chatting on various matters, and the time flew along rapidly till Rob suddenly looked at his watch.
"Almost two hours. It's time we were rising," he said.
"What do we want to rise for? It's deep enough here, isn't it?"
"That's just it. The ensign says that the chart shows that a sort of submarine cliff looms up right ahead of us somewhere hereabouts."
"Great ginger snaps! I thought the bottom of the sea was as level as a floor."
"Not a bit of it. It's as full of mountainous regions and flat, depressed plains and valleys as the Rockies themselves."
"Gee whiz! I'd hate to hit one of them. I——"
Merritt stopped short. A terrific crash shook the submarine from stem to stern. Rob saved himself from falling into the machinery by seizing a rail.
For an instant the vibration lasted, and then the diving craft came to a dead stop.
The boys gazed at each other with blanched faces.
Did the crash mean that they had actually struck one of the submerged ranges that make deep sea traveling full of dangers? Had Mr. Barr delayed too long in rising?
On the answer to these questions both boys felt that their lives depended.
They were still regarding each other with consternation when the ensign burst into the cabin.
"Shut off the engines instantly!" he ordered.
"What have we struck? That submerged cliff that you feared?" Rob managed to gasp out, while Merritt hastened to obey the officer's command.
"I—I don't know," was the reply, "but I fear that we are in serious danger!"
"Open the side window panel and turn on the searchlight!"
The order came from Mr. Barr five minutes after thePeacemakerstruck. Naturally enough, everyone on board was seriously alarmed; but in the face of danger the Boy Scouts took their example for action from the naval officer and the inventor.
Although deadly pale, Mr. Barr kept his voice as cool as an icicle. Ensign Hargreaves, while fully realizing the danger, yet steeled himself to calmness; and both Rob and Merritt simulated the courage of their elders.
Rob hastened to obey Mr. Barr's command.After a few seconds of manipulation the slide drew back, exposing the large plate glass panel. To bring the powerful searchlight into play was the work of but a moment.
As its white rays pierced the gloomy depths of the ocean like a scimitar of light, all on board peered intently from the panel and strove to make out what it was that the diving boat had struck.
At first nothing could be seen but the dark water with myriads of fish swarming about the bright light, which appeared to attract them as moths are attracted to an arc light.
"Swing the light," ordered Mr. Barr; "bring it to bear a little more forward."
Rob obeyed, and the ray of light swung in an arc through the obscurity outside of thePeacemaker. All at once, with a sharp exclamation, Rob stopped it.
"Look! look!" he cried, pointing from the window.
They looked and saw before them what appeared to be a steep acclivity, ribbed and rocky as a mountain side. It was against this submerged cliff that thePeacemakerhad struck.
"That submarine cliff appears to be of a soft formation," declared the ensign after a brief scrutiny; "our bow has driven into it."
"Then we are doomed to remain here?" asked Merritt with a bit of a quiver in his voice.
"Not necessarily. It's up to us now to do all we can to extricate ourselves."
"But how?"
The question came from Rob, whose voice, try as he would, persisted in faltering. It was an awful feeling to experience, this of being penned scores of fathoms beneath the ocean's surface in a diving boat.
"Well, I have a plan in mind. It is a desperate one, but possibly it may work."
"What do you propose to do?"
This time it was the inventor who propoundedthe query. Clearly enough Mr. Barr himself could think of no way out of the quandary.
"I don't care to say just yet," responded the naval officer.
"Why not?"
"Because it is a sort of forlorn hope that I don't care to advocate until absolute necessity arises."
In the dire extremity into which they were plunged, not one of them cared just then to waste time by asking questions. Clearly Uncle Sam's officer was at the head of affairs. In silence they awaited his next word.
"Rob, you must reverse the engines. Give them all the power they will stand. It's just possible that we may be able to back out without injury, although I fear that we are pretty deeply buried in this cliff."
Rob, accompanied by Merritt, hastened to obey. Together the two boys entered the engine room, and Rob at once operated the mechanism which caused thePeacemakerto go backward.
As he pulled over the lever and the engines began to whirr and buzz, everyone on the boat waited breathlessly for the result. But thePeacemakerdid not move. Under the strain of her laboring engines the steel fabric shook and chattered, but not an inch did the diving boat budge.
Rob and Merritt exchanged despairing glances.
"Can't you get any more power out of her?" asked Merritt anxiously.
Rob shook his head.
"Not a bit more, old man. She's running at her utmost now."
"Then we're stuck?"
"It looks that way."
"And we're doomed to die right here unless the nose of the boat can be got out of that cliff!"
"Never say, 'die,' Merritt. We've done the best we can, and remember the ensign said that he had a plan if all else failed."
"Yes, 'a forlorn hope' he called it."
"In a case like this we can endure anything. Desperate situations require desperate means to solve them."
As the young Scout leader spoke, Ensign Hargreaves burst into the engine room.
The engines were still whirring and buzzing, and the hull of thePeacemakerwas quivering under their powerful stress.
"Have you developed every ounce of power they are capable of?" asked the naval officer.
"Yes, sir," responded Rob respectfully; "they can't do another revolution."
The officer looked anxious.
"In that case, we shall have to resort to my forlorn hope," he said.
"And what is that, sir?" asked Rob, his heart beating uncomfortably fast.
"Come forward and you shall see."
The ensign turned and swung out of the engine room, followed closely by two anxious boys,Rob having waited only to shut off the engines.
In the main cabin Mr. Barr, his face white and strained, sat on one of the leather divans.
He looked up as the boys and the naval officer entered.
"The engines won't back her out?" he asked in a voice harsh and rough from anxiety.
"No. I'm sorry, Barr, but we're in a mighty bad fix. This submarine cliff must be of a sort of blue clay formation that is common off this coast. We have apparently driven into it so far that nothing short of an earthquake would dislodge us."
"An earthquake?"
"Yes; such a spasm of nature alone can set us free."
"Then we are doomed to remain here."
"Not of necessity; we have still a chance of escape."
"What do you mean?"
"That my plan offers a mere chance."
"Then let us not delay in putting it into execution."
"But it is a dangerous one!"
"Never mind that. Nothing could be more serious than our present predicament."
"Very well then, we will try out my idea. It's our last chance."
"Our last chance!" The words sounded to the boys almost like a requiem. Plainly enough, whatever Ensign Hargreaves' plan might be, there were dangers attached to it, and no light dangers, either, to judge from his grave tones. Eagerly they awaited his next words.
"My plan is nothing more nor less than this," he said; "I propose to create an earthquake."
"Tocreatean earthquake!" Mr. Barr echoed the words, staring at the ensign as if he thought he had gone suddenly insane.
"Precisely. I intend to produce by artificial means an eruption which will destroy enough of this cliff to set us free, or else blow thePeacemakerherself into atoms."
Mr. Barr buried his head in his hands. Skillful inventor and scientific expert though he was, the last words of the naval officer had sapped even his iron courage.
"Is there no other way?"
"No other way. It's a gamble for our lives."
"What do you propose doing?" asked Mr. Barr in a strange, broken voice.
"As I said, to create an artificial earthquake."
"I am unable to follow you."
"Then I'll make it clearer. In the torpedo compartment forward you have six Red Head torpedoes fully charged with gun cotton?"
"Yes."
The inventor was regarding the naval officer with intense interest now, and the boys also stood transfixed, their eyes riveted on the ensign as he unfolded his plan.
"What I propose to do," he continued, "is to discharge from the side torpedo tubes two torpedoes. They will be aimed at the cliff and, of course, when they strike it, will explode."
"But in that case our bow would be blown off also, and we should perish almost instantly," declared Mr. Barr.
"Wait a minute. I didn't say we would discharge themdirectlyat the cliff. What I propose doing is this: We will aim one on each side of the spot where our bow drove in, taking care to train the tubes so that the torpedoes will not strike too near."
"Yes, the tubes are movable. That is one of the features of thePeacemaker."
"Very well, then, they will be as easy to train in any desired direction as a rapid fire gun."
"Exactly. But I never thought when I designed them that I might some day owe my life to that very feature."
"Well, we are by no means out of the woods yet," responded the ensign drily.
He led the way to the forward torpedo room. This was right in the bow of the boat and most of the space was occupied by odd-looking machinery.Wheels, worm gears and strange-looking levers were everywhere. At the farthest end of the steel-walled chamber was a sort of derrick contrivance. This was the piece of machinery used to raise the torpedoes and swing them into the tubes.
Like the other machinery on thePeacemaker, the derrick was operated by electricity. A pull of a lever and Mr. Barr had set its machinery in motion. The torpedoes were placed on racks so that it was a simple matter to secure them to the lifting chain of the derrick. First one and then another of the polished steel implements of deadly warfare were raised to the mouths of the torpedo tubes which projected into the chamber.
Despite their immense weight, the torpedoes were placed within the tubes with no more difficulty than a sportsman experiences in shoving two cartridges into the breech of his gun.
In ten minutes from the time the party entered the torpedo chamber, the steel implements ofdeath had been "rammed home" and the breech of the tubes clamped and fastened. On thePeacemakertype of submarine compressed air at an enormous pressure was used to give the torpedoes a start, although, of course, they contained the usual machinery within themselves to drive them through the water after they left the tubes.
There followed a moment of suspense as the compressed air, with a hissing sound, rushed into the tubes.
Mr. Barr, deadly pale but without a tremor in his voice, announced that all was ready.
The ensign merely nodded and began to operate a worm gear which swung the tubes at an acuter angle to the body of the submarine vessel.
"I think we are all right now," he said presently.
"Very well," spoke the inventor, his hand on a lever, "when you say the word, I'll discharge the torpedoes."
"You might as well do it right now," was the response.
The inventor, with hands that shook, swung the lever back.
There was a hissing sound and a slight tremor as the compressed air shot the torpedoes from the tubes. Less than a second later, simultaneously it seemed, the submarine was rocked and swayed by a terrific convulsion. The boys and their elders were thrown right and left with a force that almost knocked them senseless.
It was but a few moments after the explosion of the two torpedoes that Ensign Hargreaves uttered a shout that thrilled them all.
"We're rising!" he cried. "My plan succeeded after all!"
"I think that we ought to give thanks to Providence," said Mr. Barr reverently. "As the ensign has said, the plan succeeded, but it was taking one chance in a thousand. Had that cliff not been shaken so as to release us, we might have perished miserably and left our fate a mystery."
The boys were in the conning tower by the conclusion of Mr. Barr's words. The barograph showed them to be rising a hundred feet a minute. No words were exchanged between the two young Scouts, but each grasped the other's hand in a firm grip and gazed into the other's eyes. There was no necessity of speech. Both realized that they had passed through the gravest peril that even they had experienced in all their adventurous lives.
When thePeacemakerreached the surface once more, the storm had subsided. With their hearts full of deep gratitude for the miraculous chance that had saved their lives, her occupants headed the speedy diving craft back for the island at top speed. ThePeacemakerhad been through the supreme test and had not been found lacking.
"I tell you what, Barr," declared Ensign Hargreaves, as they neared the familiar island, "you have the most wonderful boat on earth, andUncle Sam hasgotto have it. My report goes in to Washington to-morrow and you can guess what it will contain."
"Thank you," said the inventor simply, extending his hand.
"That's queer, Rob!"
"What's queer, Merritt, the way you've been sitting and staring for the last ten minutes?"
"No; that odd noise. Don't you hear it?"
The two lads were seated in the cabin of the submarine on "night guard duty," as it was called. Following the anxious days when Berghoff had made affairs on the island so filled with uneasiness for the Scouts and their friends, this sentry duty had been regularly maintained.
On this particular night the task had fallen to Rob and Merritt. There was nothing very arduous about it, the only duty involved being to keep ears and eyes open. Both lads had been engrossedin books dealing with their favorite subjects when Merritt called Rob's attention to the odd sound he had noticed.
"Maybe my ears are not quite so sharp as yours, old boy," said Rob, after an interval of listening. "I've got a slight cold, anyhow, and perhaps that's why I don't hear so readily."
"Possibly so."
"You are sure you weren't mistaken?"
"Think I'm hearing things?" indignantly responded Merritt. "No, siree, I'm willing to bet. Hark! There it is again!"
"By Hookey! I heard it that time, too. What can it be?"
"Hush!"
The noise was a most peculiar one. It seemed to be a sort of scraping on the outside of the submarine's hull. The diving craft was anchored at some distance from the shore, so as to be more readily prepared for a projected run the following day. This made the noise all the more inexplicable,as, had the craft been in the shed, it might have been caused by the inventor or the ensign paying a night visit to see that all was well, which they sometimes did.
"Perhaps it's a log bumping against the side."
"No; it appears to come from under the water."
"That's so," agreed Rob; "tell you what, Merritt, it's up to us to investigate."
"Yes, let's go on deck and see what we can find out."
Together the two lads climbed the steel stairway leading to the conning tower, and presently emerged on the rounded steel back of the diving craft. They stood here for a minute or two, trying to get their eyes used to the sudden change from the bright light of the cabin to the inky darkness of the night. It was overcast and starless, and it was impossible under any condition to see more than a few yards about them.
Suddenly Rob clasped Merritt's arm with a grip that made the other lad wince.
"Look! Look there!" he cried. "Off there. It's gone now. It only showed up for an instant."
"It's your turn to be nervous," rejoined Merritt; "blessed if I saw anything!"
"My eyes must be as sharp as your ears, then. I'd swear I saw a shadowy thing sneak away from us across the water."
"What sort of a thing?"
"A boat. I only saw it an instant, of course; but I'm sure I wasn't mistaken."
"You think that somebody in that boat was monkeying with thePeacemaker?"
"That's the only reasonable explanation."
"But what could they have been doing?"
"That remains to be seen; but it's our duty to try to find out."
"What's your plan?"
"Well, that scraping noise appeared to me to come from the under side of the hull."
"Yes."
"Then that's the place to look for mischief."
"But how are you going to get at it?"
"Dive over and feel around at about the place where we heard the sound."
"That was on the port side and apparently right under the cabin floor."
"Then that's the place to look."
As he spoke, the young leader of the Eagles stripped off his shirt, for the night was warm and he was coatless, and then divested himself in turn of his shoes and trousers.
This done, he turned to Merritt.
"I don't know just why, old fellow," he said, "but I've got an idea in my head, somehow, that there's some sort of dirty trick being put up to-night."
"What do you mean?"
Merritt asked the question looking into his comrade's eyes as he clasped Rob's extended hand. For some reason he felt a cold shudder run through him. What the danger was thatRob dreaded he did not know, but there was something in the hand-shake that his leader gave him that almost seemed like a farewell clasp.
Before his inquiry was fairly out of Merritt's mouth, Rob had disengaged his palm and slipped silently over the side of the submarine. As the waters closed above him, Merritt almost cried out aloud. The same mysterious sense of a danger, terrible and imminent, had run through his brain like a warning flash. But it was too late to recall his comrade now.
Whatever peril Rob was facing, he was called upon to brave it out alone.
* * * * * * *
Earlier that evening a small, but fast and high-powered motor boat had glided almost silently out of Bellport, a fishing village on the coast, and, waiting till darkness had descended, made at top speed for the vicinity of the submarine island.
The men who had chartered the craft weretwo in number. Both were strangers in Bellport, having driven over there that afternoon from the adjacent railway station of Farmington. One was an old man, stoop-shouldered and bleary-eyed. The other was an individual of about thirty, tall, emaciated, and with a wild light dancing in his crafty eyes, which darted back and forth as if constantly on the lookout for something.
Going directly to the Bellport Hotel, they had inquired of Enos Hardcastle, the proprietor, where they could hire a motor boat.
"A fast one?" croaked the old man.
"The faster the better," supplemented his companion, in a queer, rasping voice.
Enos scratched his head.
"Wa'al, motor boat's is scarce around here, though some of ther boys uses 'em in fishing," he said finally.
"Good!" exclaimed the younger of the pair of strangers. "Direct us to the man who has the fastest one."
"That's Lem Higgins; but Lem drives a hard bargain. It'll cost ye——"
"Never mind the cost; never mind the cost," croaked the old man impatiently. "Come, Ivan, let's find this Higgins."
"You go ter ther foot of this street and you'll find Lem down on ther wharf," directed the landlord of the Bellport Hotel, whose curiosity was by this time aroused. There was something odd about the two strangers, almost as odd as the large black bag the younger one carried. This receptacle he held as gingerly as if it contained some article of the most fragile description.
"Beg pardon, strangers," spoke up Enos, "but what might you be after havin' in that bag?"
The slender man turned a pair of blazing orbs on him.
"What business is that of yours?" he snapped out, his queer eyes appearing to emit sparks of malignant fury.
Enos hastened to extend the olive branch.
"Oh, no harm, no harm," he hurriedly exclaimed. "I thought thet you two might be sellin' suthin' the wife 'ud have a use fer, thet's all. Wanted to give you a chancet ter drive a trade."
"I reckon your wife wouldn't care much for what's in this bag," snarled the old man viciously; "and let me give you a bit of advice, my friend: Don't ask questions and you'll be told no lies."
So saying, the two oddly assorted strangers made off down the street, the tall one still carrying the black bag with precise care.
Enos reëntered his hotel, wagging his head sententiously.
"Suthin' queer about them two fellers," he muttered to himself; "ain't sellin' nuthin' an' they don't look as if they was on a pleasure trip. Wa'al, it's none of my business, but if Lem makes a dicker with 'em he'll hev ter come across to me with a commission, an' that's all I care about."
Lem Higgins was sitting on the wharf, swinging his legs and regarding with interest an imminent fight between two dogs of the "yaller" variety, when the old man and his tall companion came up.
"Your name is Lem Higgins?" asked the old man sharply.
"That's what they usually say when they want me," responded Lem. "Do you want me?"
"We want your boat."
Lem's eyes lightened. Fishing had been poor, and perhaps here was a chance to make some easy money. He scrambled to his feet, showing unusual animation.
"You want my boat? You want ter hire her, you mean?"
"Yes. What's your figure?"
The old man was doing all the talking now. His tall companion stood silently by. At his side was the black bag, which he had deposited on the ground with the same curious care thathad marked all his dealings with the mysterious article.
Lem ruminated a minute, looked seaward, ejected a small fountain of tobacco juice, and then asked, with his head cocked on one side:
"Where might you be a-goin'?"
"Never mind that, my friend. That is none of your business."
The old man spoke sharply. Lem regarded him blankly.
"None o' my business! Then how in Sam Hill am I a-goin' ter run the boat?"
"You are not going to run it."
"I ain't, eh?"
Lem was all "taken back," as he would have put it. He had been figuring on a good price for the hire of the boat and a further fee for himself as skipper. Certainly neither of the pair before him looked capable of handling a power boat.
"No; if we take your boat we shall run it ourselves."
"You will?"
The astonished Lem gazed at the stooped figure before him. He was almost bereft of words.
"Yes, I will; does that satisfy you?"
"Wa'al, I'll be plumb dummed," choked out the fisherman; "I should think you'd know more about crutches an' arm-chairs than about running gasoline boats."
"Your opinion is not of the slightest interest to me. How much do you want for the boat?"
"Fer how long?"
"From about sunset till daylight to-morrow."
"Fer all night, you mean?"
"Yes."
"That's a queer time to go out."
"Possibly; but we choose to do it. If you don't want to let your boat, say so, and have done with it. We'll find another."
"Oh, as far as thet's consarned, ef you kin run her I don't mind ef you go out any old time. But I'd like ter see ef you kin, afore we go any further."
"Where is she?"
"Right out there. I'll row you out to her. Come on down this ladder; easy, now. You're pretty old for this sort of work."
But, despite the old man's apparent decrepitude, he stepped down the steep and rather rickety ladder, at the foot of which lay a dory, with the agility of a youth. His companion declared that he would remain on the dock.
Guessing that he didn't want to leave the bag, of which he seemed so careful, Lem hailed him.
"Come on and bring your grip, ef ye scared o' leavin' it," he said.
But the other shook his head, and Lem pulled out toward his launch with only the old man as passenger. The launch was a black, rakish-looking craft, and once on board the old man expressed approval of the powerful, two-cylindered engine with which she was equipped.
"Say, you do know suthin' about ingines, don't yer?" admired Lem, after a few sharp questionshad shown him that the queer old man really knew what he was talking about.
A muttered grunt was the only reply. The old man was spinning the fly-wheel over, after making a few adjustments of the gasoline and spark supply. A moment later the motor was sputtering and coughing, and the launch was struggling at her moorings.
Lem cast off and ran the craft about the harbor for a while. At the conclusion of the test he was satisfied that the old man actually did understand the workings of gasoline motors. Returning to the wharf, it only remained for a bargain to be struck, and this was speedily done. But Lem still held out for something more.
"Seein' as I don't know you an' you're takin' ther boat out alone, I ought ter hev a deposit or suthin'," he declared, his eyes narrowing.
"What's your boat worth?" demanded the old man.
"Wa'al, I paid a thousand fer her," rejoinedLem, who had only doubled the actual sum the launch cost him.
"Here you are."
The old man reached into a recess of his black coat and produced a roll of currency, which Lem later declared to his cronies would have "choked a horse." Rapidly peeling off several bills of large denomination, he paid the exorbitant deposit, plus the price agreed upon for the hire of the boat for the night. Lem, too astonished to do more than stutter, pocketed the money without a word.
"One thing more," said the old man; "we shall need a small boat to tow along."
"Oh, then yer goin' ter land some place?"
Lem, having recovered the use of his voice, had also regained his rural curiosity.
The old man regarded him angrily, and then, in his peculiar, snarling voice, he whipped out:
"What's that to you? We've paid you too much for your boat, and you know it. Here'sfifty dollars more. That's not to ask any questions and not to answer any."
"Oh, I'll keep mum," Lem assured him, pocketing the extra money with sparkling eyes. "When you're ready to go, I'll have a small boat ready for you, never fear."
"Good. We'll be here at five o'clock sharp."
The old man and his companion sauntered off up the street. Lem watched them till they entered the Bellport Hotel. Then, to himself, he exclaimed in tones that fairly burst out of him:
"Wa'al, what d'ye know about that? Them chaps is either lunatics or millionaires, or both. Wa'al, it's none of my affair, an' there might be things I wouldn't do for fifty dollars, but keepin' my mouth shut for a while ain't one of 'em. What a yarn I'll have ter tell when them two chaps gets out of town! Kain't get over thet old feller, though. Fer all his years, he's spry as a boy; suthin' mighty funny about both on 'em."
With this, Lem resumed his seat on the edgeof the wharf and dismissed the matter from his mind as far as was possibly consistent with the knowledge of the—to him—gigantic sum reposing in his blue jeans.
Yet, had he known it, he was letting slip through his fingers the possibility of earning a far larger sum. For the man with the queer eyes was Ivan Karloff, a notorious anarchist, for whom a reward of five thousand dollars was offered, following a bomb outrage in New York, and his companion was Berghoff himself.
What were these two men doing in Bellport? Why did they want a fast boat for a mysterious night trip?
The answers to these questions would have held a burning interest for our friends on the submarine island. Like a vicious snake, Berghoff was preparing to strike what he hoped would be a vital blow at thePeacemakerand her guardians. Crafty and unscrupulous, he had invested in his services Ivan Karloff, whose price for dangerousundertakings was high, but whose skill in his nefarious line of endeavor was supreme.
It was about midnight when Lem Higgins' motor boat crept up to a spot not far from where thePeacemakerlay at anchor. Behind her she towed the promised small boat. Berghoff, as we must now call the old man, was at the engines. His companion was steering.
"Is this near enough?" inquired Karloff, in a low tone, as Berghoff slowed up the engines.
"Yes. We want to run no chances. It would not be pleasant for either of us to be nipped now."
No more words were exchanged till the anchor was noiselessly let drop.
Then Berghoff spoke.
"Have you got everything?"
"Yes; it's all in the bag—the wire, the batteries, and all. Wonder what those farmers would have done if they could have guessed what else we had in there?"
"Gone through the ceiling, I reckon," chuckled Berghoff grimly; "but come on, let's get to work. We may have a long job to find the submarine."
"Yes, and we've no time to lose. After the job's done the quicker we put the Atlantic between us and Uncle Sam, the better," was the reply.
"You're not nervous, are you?"
"Nervous! My friend, I have done more dangerous jobs than this."
Depositing the bag carefully in the small boat, the two men rowed off. They made absolutely no noise as they proceeded, the reason for this being that the oars had been carefully muffled soon after they left Bellport, and felt free from observation.
After ten minutes or so of rowing, Berghoff laid a hand on his companion's arm.
"What is it?" asked Karloff, who was rowing.
"Look right ahead. What's that?"
"The glow of a light. Can that be it?"
"It must be. That light is reflected from the conning tower. There is somebody on board."
"That matters not, if they are not on deck. Even so, we can take care of them."
"You mean to hurl it?"
"Yes; but I'd rather fasten it to the craft itself. It's safer for us and more effective."
A diabolical grin stole over the anarchist's face as he spoke. He resumed his cautious rowing.
"There's no one on deck," declared Berghoff, as they crept closer to the dark outlines of the anchored submarine.
"Good; then we can do our work quickly. Have you everything ready?"
"Yes; we'll be alongside in a minute. Don't make a failure of it."
"I have never failed yet," was the quiet reply, spoken in a voice so menacing and evil that it would have caused a shudder to run through any one less hardened than the man to whom it was addressed.
Rob flashed to the surface after a longer interval than Merritt would have believed it possible for anybody to remain submerged. As he appeared, Merritt rushed to aid him upon the slippery deck of thePeacemaker.
Rob shook his head, as Merritt tried to draw him up. Instead, he choked out:
"A pair of pliers. Quick! Our lives depend upon it."
Merritt, who had been working on the engine, happened to have the required tool in his pocket. Without a word, he handed it to Rob. From his leader's manner he knew that down there under the water the boy had discovered some deadly hidden peril. Breathlessly, he watched for his reappearance, for the instant he received the pliers Rob had dived.