By degrees the launch worked around until it at last fell off before the wind. It was a change from the constant, dangerous rolling in the trough of the sea, but thepitching caused by the enormous waves was anything but pleasant.
The three lads took turns at steering. The solitary oar found with the sail answered the purpose well enough.
The night dragged slowly. As time passed, however, it became apparent that the gale was abating. The sea still ran high, but the wind lessened, until at last, just before dawn, it died down to an ordinary breeze.
And how the miserable, water-soaked, poor castaways waited for the first gray streaks of the coming day!
Light would mean much for them. It would reveal either the welcome outlines of the practice ship, or a dreary expanse of desolate ocean. It would tell at once whether they were destined to find hope or be condemned to an uncertain fate.
Small wonder then, that Clif and Joy and Trolley stood up and watched and watched as the first faint rays of the sun drew the expanse of ocean from its pall of darkness.
Trolley was the first to make a discovery. Grasping the swaying mast with one hand, he leaned far out and pointed a shaking finger to an almost shapeless object just visible on the port beam.
A cry in a strange tongue—his own language—came from his lips, then he added, excitedly:
“Look! It ship or something. Look there, quick!”
“It is not a ship,” replied Clif, slowly. “It seems to be a capsized hull or something. Perhaps it is a dead whale.”
There was bitter disappointment in his voice.
“It no whale,” insisted the Jap. “It too big. I think it as you say, a turned over ship. Maybe——”
“I say, there’s something floating over there,” hastily interrupted Joy.
He indicated a spot some distance off the port quarter. It was merely a speck tossing about at the mercy of the waves.
Clif watched it long and earnestly, then he said, with more excitement than he had yet shown:
“Do you know, I believe it is a body tied to a bit of wreckage.”
“Let’s investigate. Perhaps the person may be still alive, if it is a person.”
Clif sprang to the stem and grasped the steering oar, which had been abandoned with the coming of daylight.Joy and Trolley handled the sail, and the launch was soon lumbering along on the opposite tack.
The sea was subsiding with each passing moment. The breeze was just strong enough to allow of the free handling of the boat. In the east the sun was climbing into a sky almost cloudless. It promised to be a perfect day.
Under other circumstances the cadets would have felt light-hearted and happy. But the memory of the recent night and its tragedy, and of their present desperate situation attuned no merry song for them.
As they approached the object floating at the mercy of the waves, they became more and more excited. Finally Trolley sprang up with a shout.
“It two bodies, and they tied to spar,” he cried. “They no dead. I see one move.”
As if to prove the truth of his words, one of the objects feebly waved an arm.
A faint shout came across the water.
“Help! Help!”
Clif glanced at Joy in amazement.
“That voice is familiar,” he exclaimed. “Can it be——”
“It is Judson Greene,” hastily interrupted the lanky lad. “He was in the launch with us last night.”
“I am heartily glad he is saved,” said Clif, sincerely. “Poor fellow, what a terrible time he must have had last night.”
“No worse than us,” muttered Trolley. “He no good anyway. Why he saved instead of good man?”
“Trolley never forgives an enemy,” said Joy. “He has it in for Judson Greene. And I don’t blame him, either. The fellow is a cad of the first water, and very dirty water at that.”
“We can’t bear animosity under present circumstances,” replied Clif. “I don’t like the fellow any more than you do. He’s tried to injure me in a thousand ways, but I am willing to forget it.”
The Jap and Joy exchanged glances, and the latter said, softly:
“That’s Clif all over. He’s as generous as he is brave and good, bless his old heart!”
The launch crept nearer and nearer to the strange bit of flotsam. The body of the other castaway was presently brought into view; then, as the sailboat swept alongside, a simultaneous cry of joy came from the trio:
“It’s Nanny!”
The other boy had fallen back, evidently from sheer exhaustion. He half rose again, and cried wildly:
“Help me into the boat, Faraday. Please hurry; I’m nearly dead. Quick!”
“The same old Judson,” muttered Joy. “Always thinking of himself. From the looks of things, he’s not half as bad as Nanny. The poor youngster is wounded. There’s blood all over his face and head.”
“Keep up your spirits,” cheerily called out Clif. “We’ll have you with us in a jiffy. Stand by, fellows. Steady! that’s it. Now, Judson, give us a hand with Nanny.”
But Greene cast off the rope binding him to the spar—evidently a fragment of some wrecked mast—and unceremoniously scrambled over the launch’s gunwale.
“Thank God!” he gasped, sinking into the bottom. “I thought I’d never see daylight again.”
“Still the same old Judson,” muttered Joy again, assisting Clif and Trolley to transfer Nanny’s insensible form to the launch.
When it was finally accomplished, the little cadet lay like one dead.
Clif, by a hasty examination, found that his heart wasstill beating, however. He applied water to the poor bruised face, and tried every means in his power to revive the lad. He worked with infinite tenderness, as he had great sympathy and affection for little Nanny.
At last the boy gasped and opened his eyes. He was still dazed, and he stared at those about him in a strangely terrified manner.
There was fear in his eyes and his actions—a deadly and unexplainable fear. Placing his arms before his face as if warding off a blow, he moaned:
“Please don’t throw me off, Judson. I’ll only hold to the edge. Don’t—don’t! Have mercy! I—I—don’t want to die. Mercy! mercy!”
“Judson Greene, what is the meaning of this?”
Stern and accusing Clif faced the boy cowering at the bottom of the launch. Judson’s face was white and he showed every evidence of guilt.
“What do you mean?” he stammered. “I don’t know what the little fool is talking about.”
“You tell lie,” broke in Trolley, hotly. “You try do something to that boy. You beat him.”
“Worse than that,” added Joy, equally angry. “Look at the poor kid’s face. I’ll bet anything Greene tried to throw him off the spar to make more room for his own worthless carcass.”
Judson maintained a sullen silence. Clif fell to soothing Nanny and soon had him more composed.
When the youngster at last realized the truth, and saw that he was surrounded by friends, and one of those friends Clif Faraday, he cried for very joy.
“Oh, Clif, I can’t believe it’s true,” he sobbed. “It must be a dream, and I will wake up and—and——”
“And you will find that it’s the finest dream you ever had, youngster,” laughed Clif, cheerily. “You are all right, Nanny,” he added. “You haven’t gone to Davy Jones’ locker yet. But tell us how you happened to get on that spar, you and Greene.”
Nanny glanced at Judson and shuddered. The latter slyly threatened him with his clinched right fist, but the action did not escape Faraday’s eye.
Pouncing upon Greene he grasped him by the collar and jerked him to his feet. Then forcing him against the gunwale he cried, savagely:
“If I see you do that again I’ll heave you overboard, you miserable scamp. You have been ill treating Nanny and I’ll have the truth of it.”
“Pitch him to the sharks,” exclaimed Joy, also laying violent hands upon the shrinking lad.
Judson was badly frightened.
“I—I—didn’t do anything to him, Faraday,” he cried, struggling to free himself.
“Yes, you did, too,” spoke up Nanny. “When I tried to get on that spar last night, you struck and kicked mein the face, and did your best to make me let go. And you only stopped because you fell into the water. Then I helped you out.”
“We throw him overboard for that,” exclaimed Trolley, fiercely. “He no right to live.”
He advanced upon Judson so menacingly that the fellow fairly bellowed for help.
“I’ll do anything if you spare my life,” he moaned. “Oh, Faraday, don’t kill me. I’ll be your servant and——”
“Shut up,” roughly interrupted Clif. “We can’t execute you, you fool. This is no time or place for heroics. None of us may live another day.”
Judson crept whimpering to the bow of the launch and lay there huddled in a heap.
Clif glanced curiously at the fragment of spar, which was still bobbing and tossing alongside.
“It’s not part of theMonongahela,” he said. “It’s from some wrecked merchantman. What a lucky thing it happened along as it did.”
“That’s true,” agreed Nanny, earnestly. “When the collision happened I thought I was a goner. I flounderedabout and was almost drowned when I bumped against that spar.”
“There is one queer thing about it,” said Joy, reflectively. “How is it we came across it when we have been sailing before a gale for several hours?”
“There’s an explanation for that, chum,” replied Clif. “The wind shifted and we followed it. I remember distinctly having to put the launch almost about last night.”
“We go now and see if that thing is capsized ship or dead whale,” spoke up Trolley, pointing to where the first object sighted by the boys was still pitching sluggishly upon the long swell.
“It will not be much help to us, but we might as well sail over and see what it is,” consented Clif, grasping the steering oar. “Shake the reefs out and set all canvas. Judson, do something for your passage. Haul taut that forward stay.”
While the others were at work Clif stood up in the stern of the launch and made a careful survey of the horizon.
The sun was now fairly on its way toward the zenith, and the whole expanse of ocean was bathed in a flood oflight. Overhead a cloudless sky spread from horizon to horizon in one glorious canopy of blue.
It was all very beautiful, but the lad turned away with a sigh. He instinctively felt that the others looked up to him as a leader, and the responsibility weighed heavily upon him.
That the practice ship had been driven to a considerable distance by the gale was evident. That Captain Brookes would return and institute a thorough search for the lost boat was equally evident. But what hope was there that the launch—a microscopical dot on the infinite ocean—would be found?
And if theMonongaheladid not turn up, what then?
There was not an ounce of food in the boat nor a drop of fresh water. The stores with which all man-of-war crafts are supplied, had been lost during the collision.
Clif looked toward the bow. It was shattered in the upper part and the timbers were slightly strained. The launch was fairly seaworthy still, but could it survive another gale?
Clif’s face was very grave as he turned his attention inboard again. The sail was set and everything readyfor proceeding onward. A course was shaped for the distant object.
Clif glanced listlessly at it. He felt assured that it would prove to be either a capsized hull—a grim relic of some ocean tragedy—or a dead whale.
“We won’t lose much time in investigating,” he said to Trolley, who had come aft. “If it turns out to be what we expect, we’ll make tracks for the coast of Portugal.”
Half an hour later they were within fair sight of the object. As they neared it the five boys began to show signs of surprise and eager curiosity.
“Surely that isn’t the bottom of a ship,” said Joy.
“And him no whale, either,” chimed in Trolley.
“What’s that thing sticking up a little aft of midships?” queried Nanny, excitedly.
“By gum, it looks like a broken smokestack or funnel.”
“The thing is iron or steel,” cried Judson, crawling aft. “See how the sides glisten.”
Clif said nothing, but the expression upon his handsome face indicated his lively interest. Carefully handling the steering oar he brought the launch around within a dozen yards of the tossing object.
And then a simultaneous cry of amazement burst from the cadets.
“Great Scott!” added Clif. “It’s a torpedo boat and it has been abandoned at sea!”
To Clif this remarkable discovery was welcome indeed.
He saw at once that the craft must be seaworthy, else it would not have survived the gale. It was far better than the open sailing launch, and a transfer to its comparatively roomy interior would certainly be appreciated.
Then again, there might be food and water on board, and the lack of those necessary articles was a subject of much anxiety to the youthful leader.
“Stand by to grasp that ringbolt, Joy,” he called out from his position at the steering oar.
The cadet he addressed leaned out from the bow of the launch in readiness to obey the order.
The other occupants busied themselves in lowering the sail and in assisting Joy to bring the boat alongside the strange derelict.
As the launch slipped alongside the torpedo boat, Joy cleverly caught the ringbolt and thrust the end of the painter through it. The sail was lowered, then all hands scrambled up the sloping side of the craft.
The iron surface was rusty and tarnished by wind and weather, but a bright spot of paint here and there gave evidence that the derelict could not have been long abandoned.
The deck sounded hollow under the footsteps of the boys, and the water lapped against the cylindrical hull with a strange weird sound not altogether pleasant.
The little door leading into the forward conning tower was tightly closed, as was also that giving entrance to the after tower.
At intervals along the deck were hatches all hermetically sealed. Clif and his companions were puzzled.
“I don’t understand this,” murmured the former. “If the crew was compelled to leave, why did they close all the doors and hatches?”
“There’s some mystery about it,” said Joy, shaking his head doubtfully.
“Maybe crew all dead below,” suggested Trolley.
“Ow-w! Let’s go back to the launch!” cried Nanny, eying the conning tower apprehensively. “I don’t want to be where there are lots of dead men.”
“Nonsense! it wouldn’t make any difference if the craft was loaded with them,” replied Clif. “We can throwthem overboard, can’t we? Now that theMonongahelahas apparently abandoned us to our fate”—he glanced at the distant horizon—“we’ve got to make the best of things. We must find something to eat——”
Trolley rubbed his stomach yearningly.
“And some water——”
Judson wet his parched lips with his tongue.
“And also a better and more seaworthy craft than the launch.”
“But we can sail the launch,” remarked Joy.
“That’s true enough, and we may do it after all, but now we must see about food and water.”
Clif advanced to the forward conning tower and tried the door. It resisted his efforts. He examined the edge carefully, and ran his finger along the crack.
“I don’t believe it is locked inside,” he concluded. “Perhaps it has been slammed violently and jammed. I’ll just——”
He sprang back in alarm. A hollow moaning cry came from forward. It ended abruptly in a gurgle like that of a man in his last moments.
Little Nanny gave a gasp and moved toward the sailing launch, which was still fastened alongside.
“Wh-wh-what was that?” he chattered.
“Somebody is down there,” exclaimed Joy, “and he needs help.”
“We go see,” said Trolley, quietly. “We break open door.”
“We’ll make a few inquiries first,” said Clif.
Stamping upon the steel deck, he bawled lustily:
“Below there! Ahoy the ’tween decks!”
The quintet waited expectantly, but the stillness remained unbroken. Clif repeated the hail, and Joy pounded the deck with the oar from the launch, but with the same result.
“I guess we imagined it,” said Nanny, evidently relieved. “It wasn’t—wow!”
He ended with a cry of dismay. The moan again sounded forward, ending, as before, with the unearthly gurgle.
Trolley darted past the conning tower, and, throwing himself flat upon the sloping deck, leaned out over the bow. He had hardly taken his position when the torpedo boat pitched sullenly into the trough of the sea, and the uncanny noise was repeated.
The Japanese youth returned aft with a grin upon his face.
“We plenty fools,” he said. “That moan no come from man, it caused by waves under bow. The cutwater is bent, and sea slap into it. Hurray!”
“That’s a jolly sell on us,” laughed Clif. “We are a lot of old women, getting scared at the slightest noise. Come on; give me a hand with this door. We can’t wait on deck all day. I want to see if there are any stores on board. Nanny, are you hungry?”
The little cadet hastened to answer in the affirmative.
“Then I’ll get you to crawl down one of those broken funnels if we can’t get in this way,” continued Clif, winking at Joy.
“Oo! I wish we were on theMonongahela,” complained Nanny, not at all pleased at the prospect. “I don’t want to go down the funnel.”
“You are a big baby,” sneered Judson Greene.
“We may give you a chance to prove that you are full-grown,” said Clif, coldly. “You are not too large for the funnel.”
“I am not afraid,” retorted Judson, walking aft.
A combined onslaught was made on the conning towerdoor. At first it resisted the efforts of the four boys, but finally, after Trolley had pounded the edges with the oar handle, it yielded slightly.
“All together now,” said Clif, bracing his feet against the curved side of the conning tower. “One! two—three, pull!”
The four cadets tugged sharply on the rope that had been passed through the handle, there was a complaining of strained hinges, then the door flew back with a crash.
And out through the opening tumbled the body of a man, half-clothed and ghastly in death!
For one moment the five cadets stared in horror at the body, then with one accord they broke for the launch. As they did so the torpedo boat lurched abruptly to one side, tossed by a wave, and the dead man slid gently after them.
As it rolled over on reaching the curve it was brought up against Judson’s legs. With a shriek of horror the lad sprang into the sea.
The splash was almost instantly followed by a second. The dead man had rolled after him.
Clif quickly regained his senses.
“Throw us a rope!” he cried, hurriedly, then over he went in a neat dive that placed him within reach of Judson as he bobbed into sight.
The two were speedily hauled on board. Judson cowered on deck, completely unstrung. Clif was still pale, but he had recovered his usual composure.
“Whew! excuse me,” he said, wringing the water fromhis blouse. “I don’t want any more scares like that. My teeth are chattering yet. Can you see any—anything of it, Trolley?”
The Japanese youth turned back from where he had been gazing into the sea. His swarthy face was a shade lighter, and he shook as if from cold.
“I no see him, Clif,” he replied. “And I no want to any more. By Jim! I no think him in there.”
“It has gone down,” reported Joy, grimly.
“Maybe there are more inside,” wailed Nanny. “Let’s go back to the launch. I’d rather starve than stay on this spooky old thing.”
Clif laughed in his old, merry way.
“We are children, every one of us,” he said, lightly. “Fancy being afraid of a dead man. Come; we’ll resume our investigating.”
“You don’t g-g-get me to leave th-this deck,” chattered Judson. “I know when I—I have had enough.”
He moved toward the launch as he spoke.
“Where are you going?” asked Clif.
“Into the boat.”
“If you do, I’ll cut the painter and let you slide,” continued Faraday. “What a coward you are!”
Judson grumbled something, but he remained on board the torpedo boat. He knew that Clif would keep his word.
“We’ll tackle it again, fellows,” announced that youth, cheerily. “If there are any more dead men below we will give them a decent sea burial.”
“Nanny,” he added, “suppose you inspect the after part while we——”
“Not on your life,” hastily interrupted the little lad. “I go where you do.”
“Well, come ahead, then,” laughed Clif, leading the way to the open door of the conning tower.
He paused before leaving the deck and cast a glance around the horizon. There was nothing in sight. With a sigh he stepped over the threshold.
The interior of the conning tower was fitted up with the usual objects found in such places. There was a steam steering wheel, a set of electric calls, a compass and a number of loose articles scattered about the deck.
At one side was an iron ladder leading forward into the officer’s quarters. Looking down this Clif saw that the apartment was empty. The deck was littered withbroken chairs, clothing and a riffraff of articles. Everywhere were signs of disorder and wreck.
“I believe I understand matters now,” said Clif, slowly.
“For goodness’ sake, tell us!” exclaimed Nanny.
“I think something must have happened on board this boat to frighten the crew, and they abandoned it in a desperate hurry.”
“But that dead man?” said Joy.
“He was caught in the conning tower by the slamming of the door, and was left behind.”
“But what kill him?” spoke up Trolley. “This boat no been long abandoned, and he no die by starvation.”
Clif laughed.
“You stump me, Trolley,” he confessed. “I guess we are no nearer the solution than before. We’ll have to search further for clews.”
“And grub,” put in Nanny.
“Yes, and grub.”
Clif led the way into the officers’ mess-room, which was at the foot of the iron ladder. Picking up a coat, he examined it critically.
“We haven’t thought about the nationality of thiscraft,” he said. “I do not believe it is an American or English torpedo boat.”
“I guess you are right,” called out Joy, holding up a bundle of periodicals. “These are certainly not English.”
Clif took them from his hand and glanced at the first.
“It’s a French newspaper,” he announced. “And the others are also French.”
“Here’s a book on navigation in the same language,” spoke up Nanny from one corner of the apartment.
“This settle it,” cried Trolley, triumphantly waving a tricolored flag he had found in an open drawer. “This is French torpedo——”
Bang!
The boys started and exchanged glances of consternation. The sharp clang of an iron door closing violently came from aft.
Nanny made a leap for the short flight of stairs leading to the deck and disappeared before Clif could stop him.
“What——” began Joy.
Before he could finish the sentence a loud cry camefrom above and Nanny reappeared in the opening. He was greatly excited.
“Come on deck!” he gasped, swinging his arms. “Quick! there’s a ship in sight, and Judson has stolen the launch to go to it!”
The three cadets dashed through the conning tower, and on reaching the upper deck saw instantly that Nanny had spoken the truth.
Just barely visible above the rim of the sea off the port beam were the upper topsails of a ship. And standing away toward it was the sailing launch with Judson in the stern.
“Oh, the miserable villain!” cried Clif, shaking his fist after the recreant lad.
“Hi! come back you——” Trolley ended with a string of Japanese expletives.
The launch was not too far distant for Judson to hear, but he paid no heed.
“If I have gun I make him come back,” said Trolley, savagely. “Some day I beat him head off.”
Clif remained silent. Leaning against the conning tower he watched the launch skim over the dancing waves.But there was an expression upon his handsome face that bodied ill for the traitor.
In the excitement of the moment the mysterious slamming of the door below had been forgotten, but it soon recurred to Clif.
“We’ve got to find out what’s aft,” he said, after a pause. “Nanny, you remain on deck and keep watch while Trolley, Joy and I go below.”
“Do you think it’s the oldMonongahela?” asked the lanky plebe, staring at the distant sail.
“Hard to say. It may be. I wish we could make some kind of a signal.”
“Why not start a smoke?” suggested Nanny, brightly. “We can make a fire on this iron deck and——”
“We’ll do it in the furnaces,” hastily interrupted Clif. “It’s a good idea.”
He ran along the sloping top of the torpedo boat and was soon tugging away at the door of the after conning tower. He knew from previous study on the subject that crafts of that class have the crew’s quarters in the stern.
The hull is too narrow for passage from one end to the other, and all communications must necessarily be madeby way of the upper deck. The mysterious noise had come from this part of the craft, Clif reasoned, so if there were any one on board they would be found in the after apartments.
The combined efforts of the three boys finally sprung the door open. As it yielded they hastily jumped aside. Their experience with one dead man was sufficient.
“I guess the supply has run short,” said Clif, grimly, as he peered into the circular room.
“Everything looks shipshape down there,” remarked Joy, pointing to where a glimpse of the lower interior could be seen. “Come on.”
He made one step over the threshold, then he stopped with a gasp. From some spot below came a weird, shrill voice.
“Au secours! au secours!” it said. “J’ai faim. Au secours!”
Joy hastily sprang back. His face had paled and his hands trembled as he pointed behind him.
“There’s a man below there,” he cried. “Did you hear that?”
“I heard him,” replied Clif, eagerly. “It’s a Frenchman, sure enough. He is calling for help.”
Leaping past his companions, he disappeared down the ladder leading to the lower deck. Joy and Trolley tumbled after him.
They found themselves in a much larger apartment than that forward. It was not furnished so comfortably, containing only a few benches, a swinging table and half a dozen hammocks.
A pile of broken crockery occupied one corner, and swinging from hooks were several pans, and strings of tin cups.
Forward of the larger apartment was another, also containing hammocks. In this latter room were several chests, one being marked with a name in black letters. It was evidently the name of the torpedo boat. It ran:
“Le Destructeur,”
and after it was the word “Havre.”
“That settles the nationality,” said Clif.
He peered about the apartments, but nowhere could he see a man or anything resembling a man. The voice had surely come from this part of the ship.
“Hello! hello!” called out Joy, stamping his foot. “Qui, qui, monseer, avec vousin here anywhere?”
Clif was compelled to smile at the lanky cadet’s attempt at French. He had studied it at home himself sufficiently to read and understand, but he could not speak it correctly.
“This is certainly strange,” he said, poking behind the chests. “Where in the deuce is the fellow?”
“Maybe he in fire-room,” suggested Trolley.
“That’s so. Let me see, the only way to get in there is by way of the hatch on deck. We’ll try it.”
After another thorough search the three boys started to ascend the ladder. Just as Clif, who was last, reached the conning tower, a shrill, queer voice broke out behind him:
“C’est epatant qu’en Angleterre.Y’ait des Anglais.”
“C’est epatant qu’en Angleterre.Y’ait des Anglais.”
“C’est epatant qu’en Angleterre.Y’ait des Anglais.”
“C’est epatant qu’en Angleterre.
Y’ait des Anglais.”
It was a snatch of a recent popular Parisian air!
The cadets stood as if turned to stone. The voice came from almost directly under their feet. And the tone! And the words!
Clif felt his hair tingle, and a cold shiver run down his back. It was uncanny, to say the least.
Trolley, ordinarily jolly, had an expression much likethat of a man who had met a ghost in a dark wood. And Joy was not a whit better.
“Guess the d-d-darned thing’s too much for me,” he said, shakily. “Suppose we go on deck and th-think it over?”
“Not much,” replied Clif, but with no great emphasis. “There’s a man down there somewhere, either sick or crazy, and it’s our duty to find him.”
“Where in thunder is he? We’ve searched the confounded place from deck to ceiling.”
“He not in fire-room,” said Trolley.
“No. That voice——”
“De l’eau! de l’eau! de l’eau!”
The words floated up the opening as plainly as words can be spoken. But this time they seemed to come from the after end of the crew’s quarters.
Clif sprang down the ladder at great risk to his neck.
When the others followed they found him tumbling the hammocks about.
Trolley and Joy assisted him, but the three had only their labor for their pains. Not a sign of the mysterious stranger could they find.
“You fellows can do as you please,” suddenlyannounced Joy, “but this child is going on deck. Excuse me; I don’t want any French shades in mine. The old tank is—oh, lud!”
He broke for the ladder and scrambled from sight. From almost over his head had come a groan.
This time Clif was thoroughly startled. The place, the circumstances and the voice was too much for him, and he hastened after Joy with Trolley a close third.
On reaching the deck they found the lanky cadet leaning against the conning tower and looking rather foolish. He evaded their gaze and pointed astern.
The action of the waves had brought the distant sail in that direction.
Clif gave an exclamation of keen disappointment.
“She’s passing!” he said. “She’s much further away. We must do something if we want to attract her attention.”
He paused only to see that the sailing launch was still in view, then he began to tug away at the iron hatch leading to the after fire-room. It required considerable effort to open it, but the iron hatch yielded at last, revealing a perpendicular ladder leading into a dark space below.
Clif’s anxiety to start a signal caused him to forget his previous fears. With a cheery “come on, fellows,” he dropped down the ladder.
It was the after of the two fire-rooms with whichLe Destructeurwas provided. The small furnace—small in comparison with the general run of men-of-war furnaces—occupied the greater part of the compartment.
The fire-box door swung open, clanging back and forth with each roll of the hull. Scattered about were heaps of coal and ashes. Over in one corner was a pile of oily waste.
Seizing an armful, Clif thrust it into the fire-box, then he began to search his pockets. He looked up with a laugh as Trolley and Joy descended the ladder.
“If you want to see a first-class chump, just look at me,” he said.
“What’s up?” asked Joy.
“Been looking for matches in a pocket that’s soaked with salt water. We must have something to light this fire with. Joy, run down aft and see if you can find a match.”
“Excuse me,” hastily objected the lanky cadet. “Send Trolley.”
“Not much,” exclaimed that youth. “I no like French ghosts.”
“Then I’ll go myself,” replied Clif, moving toward the ladder.
“I say,” interrupted Joy, stopping him. “Why not send Nanny? The kid didn’t hear the voice. Perhaps he’ll solve the mystery.”
Clif chuckled.
“We’ll try it,” he decided, and forthwith began to shout for the youngster.
Presently Nanny’s head and shoulders darkened the opening.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Where is the ship now?”
“Almost disappeared. Can just see a smudge.”
“And the launch?”
“Judson is still sailing in that direction.”
“I say, Nanny,” said Clif, sweetly, “just drop down into the crew’s quarters and see if you can find a match. I want to start a smoke. Hurry, that’s a good fellow. We haven’t any time to lose.”
Nanny vanished. The boys exchanged grins, and awaited results.
“If he survives the shock he’ll be an invalid for a week,” chuckled Joy.
“I am rather sorry I sent him,” said Clif, regretfully. “He’s such a timid little chap that it may——”
A shrill yell interrupted him, then came a distant rattling and banging, then another wild shriek.
The three middies raced to the upper deck just in time to see Nanny, white-faced and trembling, emerge from the after conning tower.
“Murder! help! help!” he wailed. “Oh, Clif, some one is down there. I heard a voice singing. Oh, let’s go away.”
“What is the matter?” demanded Joy, striving hard to conceal a laugh. “What in thunder did you see?”
“N-nothing, but I heard a cracked kind of a voice,” whimpered the little lad, almost in tears. “It—it seemed to come from the roof. Oh, the old tub is haunted! Let’s leave.”
“Never mind, youngster,” said Clif, kindly. “We heard the voice, too. There’s some mystery about it, but it isn’t ghosts. That’s silly. Did you get the matches?”
Nanny shook his head vigorously. Trolley went forward and presently returned with a box he found in thecaptain’s cabin. Five minutes later a dense smoke was pouring from the after funnel.
“I am afraid it is too late,” remarked Clif, watching the distant speck on the horizon. “That craft is bound south, and we are way to the eastward of her.”
“There is one thing we forgot when we were down aft,” suddenly observed Joy, placing one hand in the region of his fifth button. “We clean forgot the grub.”
“That’s true,” agreed Trolley.
“I won’t go down there if I starve,” came from Nanny, his face paling.
“We will have to do something,” said Clif, decisively. “There must be food on board, and water, too. I saw several boxes and tanks below. I don’t like the shades of departed Frenchmen, but I’ll do a great deal to keep from starving.”
“Suppose we go down and make plenty noise,” suggested Trolley. “We take clubs and—wait a bit.”
He hurried forward, and presently reappeared from the officers’ quarters with one hand clutching a pistol and the other a long, wicked-looking sword. Flourishing the latter, he cried:
“I cut the neck of any ghost now. Come! we march down right away.”
“He! he!” laughed Nanny; “Trolley, you have a different class of ghosts in Japan than those in other countries, I guess. Swords and guns are no good.”
“We try, anyway,” placidly replied the Japanese youth. “Who come with me?”
“All of us,” promptly announced Clif.
“Who go first?” was Trolley’s next question.
“You, confound your thick head!” retorted Joy. “Haven’t you got the weapons?”
Seeing no loophole, the Jap gingerly approached the door of the conning tower. Clif, who was close behind, suddenly uttered a deep groan.
Trolley dropped the sword and made a wild leap backward. A series of weird Japanese expletives came from his lips, then his jaw dropped when he caught sight of Clif’s laughing face.
“Oh, you fool me, eh?” he said, slowly. “Well, I go down and fool ghost.”
With that he vanished through the open door of the conning tower.
“We can’t let him have all the fun,” declared Clif. “Come on.”
When the three—Nanny accompanied them—reached the lower deck they found Trolley seated upon a chest, calmly surveying the field. He held the revolver in one hand, and the sword at a parry in the other.
“No hear anything yet,” he said, grinning. “I guess——”
“Jose! Jose!”
“Gosh! there it is again,” ejaculated Nanny. “Let’s go back. I don’t want——”
“Jose! tengo hombre! Dame un galleta.”
The words ended in a wail that sent cold chills through the cadets. For a moment it was in the minds of all to beat a hasty retreat, but Clif set his teeth, and said, determinedly:
“I won’t be frightened away from here again. Some one is playing us a scurvy trick. That wasn’t French; it was Spanish. If any chump——”
“Ach, du lieber!”
Clif sat down upon a pile of hammocks and held up both hands in disgust.
“And German, too!” he exclaimed. “Now what on earth does it mean? Where is the fellow, anyway?”
Joy was hungrily overhauling a locker which seemed filled with inviting-looking cans and jars.
“Don’t ask any foolish questions,” he said. “Here’s potted meats and jams and ship biscuit. Nanny, you half-sized idiot, get some water out of that breaker, and be durned quick about it.”
It was well on toward noon, and the boys were beginning to feel the gnawing of their naturally healthy appetites. They were also growing accustomed to the mysterious voice, so without more ado they joined Joy in his onslaught on the contents of the locker.
They were not disturbed while they attended to the pleasant business before them, so they made out fairly well.
“For this make us truly thankful,” said Joy, with a satisfied sigh as he polished off the last morsel before him.
“I say,” spoke up Nanny, “we’re better off than that cad, Judson Greene, even if we have a polyglot ghost in our midst.”
“Judson is bound to return,” said Clif, grimly. “When he does we’ll have a reckoning.”
Trolley lazily threw himself back upon a bench and observed:
“What we do now, fellows? We no can stay out here. Maybe ship no come.”
“What do you propose, your highness?” asked Joy, with fine sarcasm. “Shall we walk or take a cake of soap and wash ourselves ashore?”
“It’s a pity we can’t carryLe Destructeurinto some port,” said Clif, musingly. “She seems to be seaworthy, and I guess the coal supply is all right.”
Trolley sat up and brought his hands together with an emphatic gesture.
“We do it; we do it,” he cried, excitedly. “I know how to run marine engine. I learn a little in Japan. Hurray! you be captain, and I be engineer. Hurray!”
Clif stared at him for a moment, then his face brightened.
“By George, Trolley, that’s the very ticket,” he exclaimed. “If you can run an engine we’ll take the old tank into the nearest port. There are charts andinstruments in the captain’s cabin. And there are four of us—five if that chump comes back—and we ought to do it.”
Clif began to pace up and down the narrow room. That he was greatly taken with the idea was plainly evident. Suddenly while he chanced to be near the extreme after end, the mysterious voice wailed:
“Ach, du lieber! Carramba! Dame agua pronto!”
With a bound Clif reached the spot whence the sound seemed to come. He grasped the knob of a small trap-door in the wooden lining of the hull, and gave a quick wrench.
Something fluttered out and fell to the floor with a flapping of wings.
It was a parrot!
“Ha! ha! ha!”
“Ho! ho! This is rich!”
“Ha! ha! If I d-don’t stop laughing I’ll die!” gasped Clif. “Fancy being—ha! ha!—fooled by a pet parrot.”
The four boys were rolling upon the floor in an ecstasy of mirth. And over in the corner, eying them solemnly, was the parrot.
The poor bird was thin and its feathers hung down ina bedraggled manner. It looked as if it had undergone a siege with a cage full of monkeys.
“He! he!” it suddenly cackled. “Povre Juanito! Tengo sed. Ach, du lieber! Sacre!”
Clif moistened several sea biscuit in water and fed the starved bird. Then the boys enjoyed another fit of laughing and went on deck.
Their relief was manifest. The discovery of the parrot, which had evidently been shut in by accident, explained a great deal, and it drove away all uncanny suspicions.
After a brief consultation it was decided that Clif should act as captain and steersman, Trolley as engineer, and Joy and Nanny as firemen.
“If Judson turns up,” said Clif, glancing at the distant speck which represented the launch, “we’ll make him shovel coal all night.”
Trolley hurried below into the after engine-room to overhaul the machinery, while the three others prepared to start fires.
Blouses were stripped off and the trio fell to work with a will. The oily waste lighted before had died out, butanother fire was soon ignited, and within half an hour the furnace was roaring.
Presently Trolley, greasy and black, joined them. There was a satisfied smile on his face.
“I find everything shipshape,” he said. “The engine in fine condition.”
He glanced at the steam gauge and added:
“Hurray! we soon be ready to start. You better look up charts and things, Clif.”
Faraday thought the advice good, so he hurried to the conning tower. He found the compass in its usual place; and stowed away in a little locker were two sextants and a chronometer.
The latter had stopped, however, and it was useless to him. A log-book written in French, bore as the last date the tenth of June. The observation for that noon was a degree of longitude near the coast of France.
“The boat has been driven to sea by some severe gale,” he reasoned. “That’s plain enough. But why did the crew leave her so abruptly, and what killed that man in the conning tower?”
These thoughts occupied his mind as he rummaged about the little apartment. He was in search of a chart.Finding none, he descended to the room used as the officers’ mess. Forward of this was the captain’s cabin, and directly aft the stateroom occupied by the other officer, who, on vessels of theLe Destructeurclass, does duty both on deck and in the engine-room.
Noticing a heap ofdébrisin the center consisting of clothing, bedding and riffraff of every description, Clif raked it aside.
To his surprise, he saw undeniable traces of fire. The flooring was eaten away or charred, and a hole gaped beneath his feet. Upon part of a wooden hatch was stamped a word which sent a flood of light through the lad. It was:
“Magasin.”
“The magazine!” Clif exclaimed, aloud. “It is where they kept the torpedo charges. And it has been on fire! Gorry! no wonder they fled.”
It was plain enough now. The boat had caught fire while at sea. An attempt had been made to extinguish the flames, but without success.
The dread belief that the flames would reach the powder and gun cotton had sent the crew away in a panic.
And the dead man?
“There is only one explanation,” muttered Clif. “He was caught in the conning tower by the jamming of the door, and the fright killed him. Gorry! no wonder. Waiting for a ton of gun cotton to explode under one’s feet is enough to kill anybody.”
That the fire did not reach the explosives was evident. The rolling and pitching of the boat had probably tossed a lot of dunnage upon the flames and extinguished them.
Clif hastened forward to acquaint his companions with the discovery. He found the steam whistling merrily from the exhaust pipes. Trolley was trying the engine, and the other two were still feeding the furnace.
Clif’s explanations were received with wonder. Nanny anxiously inquired if the fire was really out and, on being assured that it was, he returned to his task of shoveling.
Twenty minutes later the Japanese youth announced with a triumphant blast of the whistle that all was in readiness for a start.
Clif had succeeded in finding a book of charts. After careful figuring, he decided on a course. It was more or less guesswork, but he believed that he could at leasttakeLe Destructeurinto the path of vessels bound to the Mediterranean.
Taking his place at the wheel, the young captain signaled the engine-room. Trolley responded gallantly, and the torpedo boat’s screw began to revolve.
An enthusiastic cheer came from the fire-room force which had hastened to the upper deck to see the start.
Clif found the steering rather difficult at first, but he soon learned the wheel and brought the bow around toward the speck on the distant horizon which represented the launch.
“We can’t leave Judson out here even if he is a double-dyed-in-the-wool traitor,” he announced.
When the launch was brought within plain view it was seen that Greene had tacked, and it was evident he wished to regain the torpedo boat.
It did not take long to bring him alongside. He glanced sheepishly at the occupants of the deck when he finally crawled aboard.
The engines had been stopped and the four cadets were prepared to meet him.
Clif had his blouse off and his sleeves rolled up. Stepping forward, he said, peremptorily:
“Shed that blouse of yours, Greene.”
“What for?” demanded Judson, in evident alarm.
“You’ve got to whip me or take the worst hiding you ever received. Off with it. I’ll sail in, in about five seconds.”
“But——”
“Off with it.”
Judson sullenly obeyed, and stood on the defensive. Clif proceeded to business at once, and the two were soon dealing blows right and left. The other cadets looked on with grins of delight.
Clif had not only might but right on his side, and in a very short period Judson was crying “enough.” Then Trolley whacked him several times, and Joy added his share. To wind up the punishment, little Nanny administered a few well-directed kicks.
“Now, sir,” said Clif, sternly, “just thank your lucky stars that we didn’t leave you to the sharks. Go below and get something to eat.”
The engine was kept going until midnight, then as the boys were tired out, the fires were banked and watches arranged.
At daybreak little Nanny, who had the last tour of duty, espied a sail off the starboard bow.
He aroused the others, and steam was started at once. In time it became apparent to the excited boys that there was something familiar about the outlines of the ship.
“Hurray! hurray! it is the oldMonongahela,” shouted Trolley, at last. “She come to look for us. Hurray!”
“I don’t think it is anything to cheer about,” sighed Joy, gloomily. “Ain’t we all right aboard here? Huh! now we’ll be plebes again, when we’ve been captains, and engineers, and—and coal heavers. I think it’s a shame.”
The rest rather agreed with him, nevertheless they were glad to see the practice ship.
When it became known on board theMonongahelawho the occupants of the torpedo boat were the wildest excitement ensued.
A boat was lowered and the castaways—not forgetting the parrot—were carried back in triumph.
Clif and his companions were the heroes of the hour, and they were received with special distinction on the quarter-deck. They were delighted to learn that theother boats had been picked up and no lives lost in the catastrophe.
The torpedo boat was manned by a picked crew from theMonongahelaand convoyed by that vessel to the mouth of the Tagus River.
The French Government was advised at once and word presently came thatLe Destructeur’sformer crew had been long since rescued.
By the time theMonongahelawas ready to proceed up the Tagus to Lisbon, the capital of Portugal, a French gunboat was on hand to tow the torpedo boat back to Havre.
And so ended Clif’s first command.