MIDSHIPMAN KENWORTH.
It had all happened back early in the naval careers of young Strong and his chum Taylor. Kenworth, a sprig just out of Annapolis, had come to theManhattanwith an idea not uncommon among young gentlemen just out of the Academy, that next to the captain he was probably the most important person on the ship.
To strengthen him in this belief, he had influential relatives who had promised to smooth out his path in life for him. Despite this fact, though, Kenworth was still a midshipman. Why was this, when many of his own class had passed him?
Possibly the incident which Ned and Herc had such good cause to recollect will throw a sidelight on Mr. Kenworth's character that may serve to explain this condition.
It was one night when the wind was blowing "great guns." Ned and Herc, the former then a coxswain, were part of a crew sent to bring some young officers off to the ship from Guantanamo harbor. As it happened, the young officers were all middies and, by right of length of service, Kenworth outranked them.
He was quarrelsome and inclined to be obstreperous when he came on board. He began by abusing Ned, who had incurred Kenworth's ill-will by his sturdy independence and the steady command of his temper, even under the fledgling officer's insults and slurs.
The boat put off with a sea running that threatened momentarily to swamp her. It required the whole strength of Ned's arm to keep the craft, which was deeply loaded, headed into the seas in such a way as to insure safety.
"Let her off a point there, you," ordered Kenworth, when they had proceeded a short distance.
"It will hardly be safe, sir," rejoined Ned.
"Hang your impudence," cried young Kenworth; "do what I tell you, do you hear?"
"Very well, sir," and sorely against his will Ned did let the boat's head swing a trifle.
The instant result was what he had anticipated. The crest of a sea broke on them, drenching Kenworth to the skin. He flew into a frenzy of rage.
"You clumsy, incompetent nincompoop," he sputtered, "I'll have you up at the mast for that."
"I obeyed your orders, sir," rejoined Ned simply, knowing there was nothing to be gained by getting into an argument with an officer.
"Don't answer me, sir!" howled Kenworth. "Confound your impudence!"
"Oh, look here, Kenworth," remonstrated another midshipman. "It wasn't his fault. He told you it wouldn't do and you insisted."
"And got jolly well wet for your pains," came from one of the men at the oars in a low voice intended only for his mate's ears.
But Kenworth heard him, heard, too, the smothered laugh from the men, none of whom bore him any liking, his ways having made him the most unpopular officer on the ship.
"How dare you make such a remark to me, sir?" he demanded of Ned, choosing in his anger to make a victim of the man he disliked most.
"I said nothing, sir," rejoined Ned.
"That's right; he didn't utter a word," came from another midshipman.
"He'll sing a different tune at the mast to-morrow, insolent waterfront scum," gritted out Kenworth.
He said no more, but the next day the word was passed forward by the sergeant-at-arms for Ned to appear "at the mast," the man-o'-war tribunal where the captain deals out justice. Luckily Ned had no difficulty in clearing himself, thanks to friendly witnesses, and Kenworth was privately reprimanded by the captain for bringing a trumped-up charge against an enlisted man.
From that day on, Kenworth had nourished such a hatred of Ned as only a mean nature like his could cherish. He never, while he remained on theManhattan, lost a chance to "work him up," as it is called. On one occasion, he went so far as to order Ned to count the sails of every ship in the harbor of Hong Kong and report their number to him.
Ned stood at the rail with a grave face for an hour enjoying the scenery, and then, stepping up to Kenworth, who was swelling with importance as officer of the deck, he saluted with a quiet smile.
"Well, did you do what I told you?" blustered Kenworth.
"Yes, sir; there are just three thousand nine hundred and ninety-five," replied Ned with great gravity.
Kenworth looked sharply at him.
"How do you know?" he asked.
"I counted them, sir," was the reply. "Youcan check up my count if you like, sir; you'll find it correct."
As Ned saluted and turned away, he heard a burst of laughter at Kenworth's expense from some Jackies who had heard the little dialogue, and who discreetly vanished before the arrogant middie's wrath could descend on them. Soon after this Kenworth had left theManhattanand Ned lost all track of him; not, indeed, that he felt any great interest in the matter.
And now, by a strange quip of circumstance, they had come face to face once more in the wardroom of the little gunboat. But now their positions were reversed. Ned was in command, Herc was his second in authority, with Kenworth, although he shaved daily and boasted a blue chin, still a midshipman.
"I'm very glad to meet Mr. Kenworth again," he said, when he had recovered his self-possession; "I recollect him on theManhattanvery well indeed."
Kenworth mumbled something about duty aft and hurried off. Ensign Summerville saw that there was an embarrassing situation in the air and hastened to suggest that they go on deck, where he would have the crew mustered and formally turn over the command of the Seneca to Ned.
The crew was piped to quarters and the ensign handed Ned a complete roster of the men. The shrill sounds of the bos'un's whistles filled the air, reminding Ned and Herc of the days when a response was part of their duty.
The inspection did not last long. It was actually more a ceremony of introduction. When it was over, the ensign tarried to help Ned in working out his course into the Sound.
"I would suggest that Mr. Kenworth take the ship out to deep water, as he knows the channels hereabouts thoroughly," said the ensign, as he bade good-by to the new commander of theSeneca.
"Mr. Kenworth, you will take the bridge, then," said Ned.
Kenworth saluted and hurried off to take his post. But as he did so, he grinned to himself.
"Good luck!" he exclaimed. "I think I see a chance to take the wind out of your sails before very long, you beggar on horseback, you forecastle Jack on the quarter deck! If I don't fix you and your ambitions and double spike 'em before this cruise is over, my name isn't Raymond Kenworth."
Swords were removed and sent below as soon as Ensign Summerville was over the side.
While waiting for the gig to return, Ned and Herc lingered over the charts and gave a few necessary orders.
"Well, Ned," confided Herc in a lull, "this is actually real after all."
"No doubt of that, old boy. I'm crazy to get under way and look at my orders. Who knows what they may contain and what lies before us?"
What, indeed, did the future hold for these two ambitious young officers of Uncle Sam's? They were destined to learn ere long. Over the horizon of that day of life lay new experiences to be met, new problems and dangers to be faced like officers and gentlemen and true Americans.
AGROUND!
The anchor was hauled up immediately on the return of the gig. The crews of the submarines, already on board the diving craft, took their stations. "Captain" Ned gave the word and theSenecabegan to move slowly through the water.
Having superintended the work of getting under way, Ned and Herc ascended to the bridge. They found Midshipman Kenworth there, standing by the side of the quartermaster, who had the wheel.
Behind the wheel, which was a small, light affair controlling the steam steering gear, was a small house in which the machinery that operated the rudder control was situated.
Ned caught Herc by the sleeve just as the red-headed lad was stepping impulsively forward,and drew him into the doorway of the structure. There was a small port in the place looking out over the bridge. It was open, and through it they could readily see.
"What's the idea of this?" demanded Herc. "I don't like this spying business. I've no use for Kenworth, but——"
"That's all right," responded Ned. "I don't wish to spy on the young man; I merely want to find out what sort of a pilot he is."
They skirted the little cape that formed the end of the island, in the lee of which theSenecahad been anchored. Beyond this island, the boys, somewhat to their surprise, saw that there was still quite an expanse of shoal water threaded by narrow channels between the outer island and the blue of the Sound itself.
"Ticklish work through here," commented Ned in a low tone, as he observed how the darker color of the channels that threaded the numerous shallow places alternated with broad expanses ofyellow water that showed the presence of dangerous sand banks.
"You're dead right," responded Herc; "about as bad a place as I ever clapped eyes on."
The rattle and roar of the steering machinery as the wheel was spun right and left drowned the sound of their voices. Kenworth was looking straight ahead. From time to time they could see him turn slightly and give some order to the helmsman; but what the orders were they could not catch.
TheSenecaappeared to be following the channel perfectly, however, winding among the mazes of deeper waterways like a dancer.
"Kenworth is no slouch at this work," said Ned in a low voice as they watched.
"Shucks!" grunted Herc, "I guess theSenecahas been in and out of here a hundred times. Anyhow, a blind man could see those channels."
Ned turned on his companion with a stern look.
"See here, Herc Taylor, we want peace and harmony on this craft; do you understand?"
"Even if we have to scrap to get it," muttered Herc. "All right; from now on, I'm the greatest little peace delegate ever you saw."
A minute later, while they were still watching, they saw something that gave them a momentary shock of surprise. Rankin appeared on the bridge. There was nothing extraordinary in his so doing, of course. He probably had something to report to the watch officer.
But somehow Ned, with a quick flash of intuition that he could not explain, felt that more than that lay in this sudden conjunction of their two enemies; for that Rankin disliked them, Ned had no doubt.
He laid a hand on Herc's arm to keep him quiet, for the impulsive red-headed youth was about, apparently, to break forth into some emphatic exclamation at what he had just seen.
Rankin approached Kenworth with an air offamiliarity that showed there existed some friendship between them. Kenworth greeted him with an easy nod, and then, after giving some directions to the man at the wheel, he placed his hand on Rankin's shoulder and drew him back toward the steering-gear house.
"Come back here while we talk," the boys heard him say, "I don't want that quartermaster to overhear us."
For a moment it appeared that they were coming into the steering house, but they merely stood close back against its metal wall. They had taken up positions right under the porthole through which Ned had been making his observations.
But they had not seen their superior officers. Ned had been too quick for that. As the two approached the steering-gear structure, he grabbed Herc and drew him down. Now they crouched quietly under the porthole, throughwhich they could catch perfectly everything that was said.
"Well, here's a fine how-de-do," they heard Rankin complain in a grumbling tone; "a couple of snips that aren't dry behind the ears been set over us. I thought you were to get the command when Summerville left."
"So did I; but it seems these two interlopers succeeded in getting it for themselves."
"Didn't you tell me that they started in the navy just as enlisted men?"
"Yes, the gutter-snipes never saw even the outside of Annapolis. I'd like to know what the service is coming to when good men are passed over for useless propositions like this!"
"So would I. By the way, I had a row with them on the train coming down. They've no use for me, I fancy. I wish I could hit upon some plan to take them down a peg or two."
"I have," was Kenworth's rejoinder, in a tone which was acid with malignant hatred.
"Have what?"
"Formed such a plan. I've got a scheme to discredit them with the department right from the jump."
"Shoal ahead, sir!"
The voice of the man at the wheel cut in raspingly like a file. Kenworth sprang up. Ned also ventured to steal a look through the port. He saw the shoal the helmsman had drawn attention to, a long daub of yellow stretching on their port bow.
He saw in a flash that there was only one way to save the ship from going aground.
"Stay here," he ordered Herc, and then bounded out of the steering-gear house, colliding with Rankin as he did so.
"What, you here, sir?" exclaimed Rankin with a sickly smile as Ned shoved past him. The Dreadnought Boy, with a sinking sense of dread, guessed somehow that already the conspiracyagainst him was under way, and that, with the flukes of the anchor not yet dry at the cat-head!
Rankin reeled and staggered as Ned brushed by with scant regard for gentleness. He turned and gazed after the figure of the young officer as he made for the steersman. Kenworth already stood at the man's side.
"Hard a'port!" Ned heard Kenworth roar.
It was precisely the command that, under the circumstances, would bring the bow of theSenecagrating and rasping on the shoal.
"Hard over! Hard over! For your life, man!" shouted Ned.
"Aye, aye, sir!" cried the man, recognizing the superior authority of the temporary commander.
But it was too late. The next instant it happened, even as Ned's hand jerked the engine-room telegraph over to "Full speed astern." With a grating, jarring succession of bumps, theSeneca, Ned's first command, slipped upon theshoal, even while her reversed engines were frantically biting the water astern.
Before the lad's eyes arose a sickening vision of failure and disgrace, even at the very outset of his important commission.
"YOUR DUTY IS TO OBEY!"
It was no time then to try to fix the blame. Turning to Kenworth, who was standing with chalky-white face by his side, Ned curtly ordered him to go below and summon the engineer and the ship's armorers to the bridge.
When they came, he gave swift, incisive orders to have the ship examined from stem to stern, and any damage she might have sustained reported to him immediately. Herc, who by this time of course was by his young leader's side, was ordered to take charge of this work.
The next half hour was the most anxious Ned had ever passed; but he knew that yet more suspense was bound to follow when it came to testing how hard and fast theSenecawas piled on the shoal.
There was a possibility that she might get off under her own steam. But of course this could not be foretold till an actual trial could be made. For the present, with engines that had ceased revolving, theSenecalay helpless and motionless on the shoal.
Ned's naval training stood him in good stead then. Without a quiver of a lip or a flicker of an eyelid to betray the ordeal through which he was passing, he stood erect on the bridge awaiting the report of the investigators. Only the pallor under his tanned cheeks showed what he was enduring.
If naval tugs had to be sent for to extricate theSenecafrom her predicament, Ned knew that his brief career as a naval commander was over before it had well begun. Then, too, with this thought mingled another.
Had Kenworth deliberately given the order that had resulted in the grounding of the ship, or had he lost his head and "piled her up"?Judging from the conversation he had overheard, Kenworth was determined to stop at nothing to discredit and disgrace Herc and himself with the Navy Department.
But it was inconceivable, almost, that he should have formed his plan and executed it so quickly. Ned was more inclined to put the entire affair down to stupidity. But he knew that as commander of theSeneca, he, and not Kenworth, would assuredly be held responsible for any damage done.
It was at this moment that he was aroused by the clicking and whining of the wireless spark in its little metal house just abaft of the funnel. The stinging, whip-like crack and the crepitant sputter of the spark as it leaped back and forth across its gap like a caged animal was borne with clean-cut distinctness to his ears.
"Somebody working the wireless," decided Ned, for the arrival of a message is not attended by any sound audible outside the ear receivers."Who can it be? Trevor, the regular wireless man, is off duty. He was one of the emergency gang I sent below with all the other hands I could spare."
There followed a moment of indecision, and then a flame of anger swept Ned's face.
Whoever was sending out those thundering detonations of electricity that were splitting space like a scimitar was no novice. Moreover, he was trying to raise theManhattan, the flagship of the Red Squadron, and using the secret code to do it.
"I'll find out what this means in two shakes," exclaimed Ned to himself. "I miss my guess if it isn't somebody trying, absolutely without orders, to flash news of this accident to the flagship and put me in bad."
He hastened from the bridge to the upper deck and through an alleyway to where a short flight of steel steps led to the wireless room, perched like a miniature pilot house astern of the funnel.
As he gained the door of the place and looked in, he stopped as abruptly as if he had been struck a blow in the face.
For an instant he stood there rigid, taking in the picture that had suddenly presented itself to his indignant gaze.
Bending over the key and sending out impatient waves of sound into the atmosphere was Kenworth. His pale face was alight with poisonous glee, as again and again he sent out the secret call for the flagship of the Reds.
Ned was into the room in a bound. In another instant he had Kenworth by the collar. The astonished and startled midshipman was as helpless as a puppy in Ned's powerful grasp.
"I—how—what's the matter?" he sputtered.
"What are you doing here, Mr. Kenworth?" demanded Ned sternly. He was in no mood to be trifled with. He fancied now that he saw the whole contemptible plot, swiftly as the storm had broken.
In another instant he had Kenworth by the collar.—Page 80
In another instant he had Kenworth by the collar.—Page 80
"Well, you see, sir—I—that is, when——"
"Answer me at once, please. What are you doing here?"
"I—I thought I'd practice up a bit."
"What!"
Ned's eyes blazed and a dangerous flicker of white came around his nostrils. He despised a liar more than he held contempt for a coward, and if he was not much mistaken, Kenworth was both.
"You see," stuttered Kenworth, absolutely shaken and flaccid, "I'm wireless officer, with Trevor as assistant. I'm not very good yet, and I——"
"On the contrary, it strikes me that you are remarkably efficient, Mr. Kenworth," snapped Ned; "and as for practicing, you assuredly choose an extraordinary time for it when the ship, for anything you know, is in danger."
"Danger?" exclaimed Kenworth, and Nedthought that he caught an evil glint in the midshipman's eyes.
"That remains to be seen," rejoined Ned coldly. "Tell me if you can, why, without orders and without informing anyone, you were in here trying to raise theManhattan. You are silent. Then I will tell you myself. You wanted to send out word of the accident."
Kenworth shuffled from foot to foot uneasily.
"My duty——" he began.
Then Ned boiled over.
"Your duty, Mr. Kenworth, is to obey my orders. You will now oblige me by going to your cabin, unless you wish me to adopt harsher measures."
With a half-hearted salute, Kenworth turned and without a word left the wireless room. But as he descended the companionway stairs he muttered to himself:
"I guess I've got you badly worried already, Mr. Monkey-on-a-Stick, and this is only the beginning.I said I'd fix you and I will, too. If only I could have raised theManhattanand got that message through with my version of the accident, Master Ned Strong's career would have ended with a hard bump."
"THE EYES OF THE RED FLEET."
While Kenworth, in his cabin, was consoling himself for his smart "dressing down" from Ned with the reflection that in the event of theSenecabeing badly damaged the lad he so disliked would lose his berth, Ned, on deck, had forgotten in the business of the moment the incident of the intercepted wireless.
Herc reported that no serious strain had been found, and that so far as could be seen theSenecawas resting on the edge of a sand bank. The tide, it had been ascertained, was rising, in itself a fortunate circumstance, and within a short time things would be propitious for an attempt to back the craft off under her own steam.
"I hope to goodness we succeed, old fellow," said Ned fervently, "although I can't tell youwhat an unspeakable relief to me it has been to know that we are not damaged."
"You can rest assured of that. Every plate and rivet from fore-peak to shaft tunnel has been gone over. Not a drop of water anywhere."
"In that case, provided we can get afloat again without summoning assistance, we may get by without a reprimand or, even worse, a recall," declared Ned.
"Oh, that would be terrible!" exclaimed Herc. "But say, Ned, have you done any thinking about this accident?"
"What a question to ask! Thinking! I've been doing nothing else since we struck."
"But you know what I mean?"
"Putting two and two together?" asked Ned significantly, with a glance at the steering-wheel house that had been their place of concealment.
"That's it exactly. Have you been doing that?"
"Hum, yes, but they don't make four—yet."
"But you've come to the conclusion that theaccident may not have been quite so accidental as it appeared?"
"I didn't say so. What I do say, though, is this, that there is one person on board who was quite willing to take advantage of it, accident or no accident, to discredit us."
"And that was——?"
"Mr. Midshipman Kenworth. The rascal! caught him in the wireless room trying to send a message to theManhattan."
Ned went on to relate all that had occurred at that momentous encounter, being frequently interrupted by Herc's exclamations of indignation.
"You ought to have Kenworth put in the brig, or at least keep him in his cabin for the rest of the cruise," blustered Herc.
"How can I do that? I have no proof against the fellow. Suspicion is one thing, proof quite another."
"Anyone who knows the fellow——"
"That's quite aside from the question. Kenworth has powerful influences behind him. We don't want to make any more enemies than we have to."
"Oh, pshaw! If I had your powers——"
"If I had the proof, I'd act quick enough, you may be sure. I wouldn't care if his father was Secretary of the Navy—yes, or President. All the more reason for getting rid of such a scalawag. But as it is——"
"All ready, sir!"
The chief bos'un's mate made the announcement.
"Very well, Bowles. You may pass the word."
"Now for the tug-of-war," said Ned grimly, as, warning the man at the wheel to keep his helm hard over, he sent the signal below for the engines to be started at reverse "slow."
Once more the vibration of her machinery thrilled the hull of theSeneca; but—she did not move.
Undisturbed, so far as anyone could see, Ned shoved the telegraph over till little by little the pointer stopped at "Full speed astern." He rang up on the bridge telephone.
"Give her every ounce you've got," he ordered.
The water churned whitely; the pipes of the safety valves roared with the pressure of the escaping steam from the high-pressure boilers. TheSenecashook and trembled like a live thing. Then came a sudden impulse. Ned's eyes began to dance, but he dared not speak.
The next instant he knew that he had not been mistaken. TheSenecawas moving.
A cheer burst from the men, who knew that Ned had risen from the foredeck, and liked and admired him on that account. Nobody attempted to check it. Below, in his cabin, Kenworth heard the cheer and felt the slight movement.
"Confound him! So he has managed to get her afloat, after all," he muttered. "I didn't pileher up quick enough. Well, I'll get another chance, and this time I won't fall down."
Little by little the bulk of the gunboat began to slide backward off the shoal.
From the leadsmen posted on the bow, bridge and stern, came every moment cries announcing deeper and deeper water. Herc silently wrung Ned's hand. Ned said nothing, but his face showed what he felt.
At last there came a sudden backward lurch and the gunboat was freed from her sandy prison and floated in deep water once more.
"We'll have no pilot this time," declared Ned, as he himself took the guidance of the ship, scanning the waters ahead with keen eyes and directing the helmsman on his course. They reached open water without accident. And then Ned was at leisure to forward his report of the accident to theManhattan.
To his relief no comment was made upon it, which he attributed to the fact that there hadbeen no serious results. But through the air came an order that caused Ned to thrill with delight. He was commanded to peruse his sealed orders and follow them out without delay.
TheManhattanwas then some miles north of Block Island, well out to sea with the Red Squadron. Of the Blues, nothing had been heard.
It was for Ned's ship, as the "Eyes of the Red Fleet" to spy out and report the whereabouts of the "enemy."
THE EAVESDROPPER.
Ned, after the receipt of the message authorizing him to open his orders, lost no time in hastening below.
Herc, as his junior officer, went with him. Kenworth was ordered out of his cabin and told off to assume charge of the after-watch, an assignment on which Ned was sure the evilly disposed midshipman could not do any harm.
In the meantime, the ship was steaming slowly down the Sound in charge of one of the junior warrant officers.
"Now for the big secret," exclaimed Ned, as he opened his desk and took out the slender package. "We'll step into the wardroom to look it over, Herc."
"Look out, somebody may have put a bombin it while we were gone," warned Herc, leaning over Ned's shoulder, a look of intense interest on his freckled countenance.
"Hardly any danger of that, I think," laughed Ned.
He ripped open the envelope, glanced hastily at the first sheet of the numerous typewritten pages it contained, and gave vent to a low whistle.
"Well, what do you think of that?" gasped Herc. "I thought we were to——"
"Obey orders," said Ned quietly; "although I must admit this is a bit of a surprise. I suppose a change in plans came late so that we were not forewarned."
"Well, let's hear what it is all about," prompted Herc impatiently.
"Simple enough, apparently. The army folks are protecting the mouth of the harbor. There are important fortifications there, because in time of war the protecting fleet, or part of it, might gather there.
"The army folks have planted mines there. While watching for the Blue fleet to arrive, we are to test those mines."
"Phew!" gasped Herc. "There's only one way to test how much kick there is to a mine."
"And what's that?" asked Ned.
"To blow it up and—yourself with it," declared Herc sententiously. "Well, for a nice little holiday job, we have sure picked a dandy."
"Hold on a minute, will you?" interrupted Ned. "Let me finish this. The mines are wired up by a new system. What we have to find out is if we can sneak into the harbor mouth in our submarines and disconnect the firing wires of the mines without blowing ourselves up. If we can do this, the system is a failure."
"Humph! and so are we."
"So are we what?"
"Failures! If one of these mines blew up, what else would we be——"
Ned exploded in a loud laugh.
"Why, you chump," he exclaimed, "they are not loaded mines!"
"Then how can they tell if they've been exploded or not when we go submarining around them?"
"It's up to us to see if we can dodge the wires or contrive some way to disconnect them."
"That disconnecting idea doesn't appear very feasible."
"No, it does not," agreed Ned; "but I think I can find a way to evade them, for all that."
"Hum! So long as they're not loaded, I don't care even if we run bumpety-bang into one," declared Herc; "but a loaded mine—no, thank you!"
"Our orders after that are general. We are to use our own discretion entirely, acting as the eyes and ears of the Red fleet, and forwarding to the flagship, via wireless, every scrap of information we think might be valuable to the attacking party."
"That's one thing I don't like about this command," muttered Herc.
"What is that?"
"Why, we're supposed to be enemies to the flag."
"But only supposed to be, Herc, for the purposes of perfecting the strength of Uncle Sam's defenses, and playing a useful part in exposing any weakness in our nation's fortifications."
"Huh; well, that's all the kind of enemy I ever want to be—a supposed one."
"I'm going into my cabin to lay out our course," said Ned, after a few more words. "I want you on deck, Herc, to see how things are going on. It won't take me long and—— What on earth is the matter? Got a stroke?"
There was a large glass skylight over the wardroom and, owing to the warmth of the weather, the flaps of this had been raised. With the expression of one who has been suddenly hypnotized, Herc was staring with open eyes and mouth straight up at the wardroom roof.
"What do you see?" demanded Ned, springingto his feet. "Shall I get you a glass of water? Shall I——"
"Umph! You might get me a gun," snorted Herc.
"A gun! What on earth do you want with a gun?"
"I want it to shoot a skunk!"
"A skunk! Do you think you're back on the farm?"
"No, but just the same I'd like to go gunning with grandpap's old scatter gun."
"I wish we had a doctor on board, Herc. Any fellow who can go around seeing skunks——"
"Ought to shoot 'em on sight," muttered Herc belligerently. "Well, Ned, this was a skunk I saw, all right, all right! And what do you think his name was?"
Without waiting for a reply, Herc rushed on, "Kenworth! He'd been listening to every word we were saying!"
SAKI—STEWARD.
For the time being there was no opportunity to investigate the case of the eavesdropper. It was important that they should get under way at once. Herc hastened on deck after a few hurried words with Ned.
Just at that moment two bells—one o'clock—sounded in the slow, deep, mellow tones of the ship's bell. Simultaneously there appeared, through a doorway at one end of the wardroom, the figure of a dapper Japanese, dressed in white garments.
"Hullo! Who are you?" demanded Ned, looking up from a reverie into which he had fallen, following Herc's departure.
"Me Saki. Officer steward. Me getee lunch for honorable capitan," rejoined the Jap with a low bow.
"Mr. Summerville made no mention to me of you," said Ned, looking the Jap over.
"No doubt, sir, no doubt," was the reply; "me only joinee ship in New York."
Ned said no more, but, telling the steward to summon him when the meal was ready, he resumed his meditations. Truly the young skipper of theSenecawas in need of time to think and ponder.
This command of his, of which he had been so proud, evidently was not going to prove any sinecure. Then, somehow, the face of the Jap floated before his mind. He had seen it somewhere before, he was certain. Perhaps it was on some other naval craft, for Japanese stewards are much affected in the United States Navy.
It was a striking face, too: thick, bushy hair brushed up above a massive forehead, far squarer and more prominent than Jap's foreheads usually are, forming a sort of bristly aureole for a yellow face with dark, forbidding eyebrows and a heavyjaw. Saki was not a common type of Jap. He was heavier, less obsequious and smiling, more sure of himself.
But such thoughts quickly flitted from Ned's mind as the problem of Kenworth put itself forward. Mated with this reflection came the image of Rankin. Both were men who disliked and, in one case at least, hated Ned and Herc.
True, Rankin had no cause but a purely unreasonable one—as it were—for his antipathy to the young captain of theSenecaand his first officer, but it was none the less plain, even without taking the overheard conversation on the bridge into account, that the man had made up his mind to do all the harm he could.
How soon he would strike, of course, Ned had no idea; nor what form his malice would take. That Ned had concluded that Kenworth had purposely run upon the shoal, we already know, but with how much justice he had arrived at such a deduction, he could not determine.
The course was soon worked out and Ned proceeded to the chart house. He summoned Herc and gave him his sailing directions, and then proceeded to make an inspection of the ship. On his return from this duty, he suddenly recollected that he had left the door of his stateroom unlocked.
He descended the stairs swiftly and almost noiselessly. As he reached the foot of them, he saw a form suddenly emerge from his cabin and glide silently as a cat across the wardroom in the direction of the stern door, where he knew the steward's cabin and pantry, as well as the store-room, were located.
"Who's that?" he called in a sharp, authoritative voice.
"That you, Mr. Capitan, sir?" came in Saki's voice. "Me just go by your cabin, tell you lunch is ready, sir."
"Very well. Come here, Saki."
"Yes, sir," rejoined Saki, hurrying back and bowing low.
"You must never enter my cabin, do you understand? That's private ground except when I am in it. And Saki."
"Honorable naval mister." Saki again bowed low, spreading his hands.
"Have I ever seen you before?"
"I have never had the felicity of looking upon the honorable capitan's face."
"Very well. You may call Ensign Taylor." For Ned and Herc, as befitted their respective ranks on board theSeneca, ate their meals in solitary state.
Midshipman Kenworth and the other warrant officers followed them. Such was the strict etiquette of the navy, even on so small a craft as theSeneca.
"Funny," thought Ned, "it's odd, but I can't get it out of my head that Ihaveseen him before somewhere. Jove! I have it! It was at Nagasaki,on the world cruise. He was found examining guns and firing systems on board theManhattan. As he could give no satisfactory account of himself, he was ejected. I'm sure it's the same man. I wonder——"
But the entrance of Herc put a stop to further speculation. Saki waited on them during the meal with silent dexterity. Once or twice Ned sought a chance to study his face without being observed, but every time he found that the Jap's eyes were fixed on him, although quickly averted when the Oriental saw that he was being noticed.
After lunch he took an opportunity to make some inquiries concerning the Jap, and learned that he had come on board at New York, as he had said. Midshipman Kenworth was believed to have secured him, the Jap having been highly recommended as a servant by a relative of the former.
"Kenworth, again," muttered Ned to himself. "It's odd, very odd, how he is always bobbingup. Jove," he broke off suddenly, "I never thought to overhaul that desk of mine. The way that Jap came out of there like a rabbit out of a hole was suspicious, to say the least. I'll go below and have a look."
But a narrow inspection of the cabin showed that nothing had been disturbed. Carefully Ned locked up his orders in his desk, and when he went out, secured the door.
"All right this time, but it's a risk I don't want to chance again," he said to himself as he ascended to the bridge. "Somehow I don't trust that Jap, any more than I do those other fellows."
ANOTHER WATCHER.
By mid-afternoon theSenecawas well down the Sound. Several times she was in communication with the Red flagship, but no further orders came to Trevor, who was at the key.
Nor had the flagship heard anything of the whereabouts of the Blues. It was generally believed that they had rallied off the Virginia Capes and were playing a game of hide-and-seek with their opponents.
Ned knew the spot to which he had been directed for the mine test very well. Already he had planned just how he would proceed. From the mainland at this point there runs out a long finger of land, on one end of which is perched Fort Schuyler.
It was his intention to leave theSenecaanchoredin a bay far up the Sound and then proceed on one of the submarines, under cover of night, himself commanding the diving boat. But when they had almost reached the snug bay that Ned had decided upon as a good anchoring place for a craft on such an errand, Trevor hastened out of his wireless box with a message in the secret code.
Ned took it below and speedily read it off. He made a wry face of chagrin as he did so. It appeared that other work than going down with the submarine had been laid out for him. He was to get ashore somehow, land on the neck in the early morning, and make certain observations of the work of the diving boat.
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Ned to himself; "too bad! I don't see the object of it all, but I suppose they know best. Well, Herc will have to take command of the submarine, of course, and I will have to do what's laid out for me."
His mind at once began to busy itself withplans for the morrow's work when Trevor suddenly interrupted again. There had been a mistake in transmitting the details of the last message, it appeared.
The submarine was not to make the tests the next day at all. Through other sources the flagship had learned that the mines had not yet been laid. Ned was to contrive to be on the watch during the process and note carefully where each was planted from a quartermaster's department tug. This was very important, as the mines were to be laid just as they would be for actual defenses. When Ned had secured all this information, the submarine test would come. If they succeeded in dodging the torpedoes, it would be several points for the Red side.
When they reached the bay that Ned had in mind, theSenecawas guided inside, and then, while her crew speculated as to what the next move could possibly be, she lay swinging at her anchor, idly waiting for darkness to fall. ForNed had decided not to let his crew know of the plans. Herc, of course, was familiar with them, but none of the others, except Trevor, the wireless operator.
It was not long before dusk when Midshipman Kenworth presented himself before Ned. He saluted respectfully and appeared much more obsequious than he had been since the arrival of the boys on board.
"Beg your pardon, sir," he asked, "but would there be any objection to my going ashore to-night? Some of my people live at Oakhurst, about nine miles inland, and I'd like to take this opportunity of seeing them."
Ned thought a moment. Then he decided that if Kenworth was spying about theSenecawith the object of injuring her young skipper, the further off he was during the next day the better.
"Very well, Kenworth," said he, "you may go, but be sure to report on board to-morrow night at four bells."
"Yes, sir," said the midshipman, saluting. He turned away and not long after reappeared on deck with his suit case. The shore boat was ordered away and was soon skimming off over the water.
"Confound the fellow," said Ned to Herc as they watched the craft making its way over the bay, "I didn't want to let him go; but after all, I'd rather have his room than his company any day."
"I'd have kept him aboard and worked him up to the king's taste," said Herc with positiveness. "I've no more use for him than I have for a snake in the grass, or for what I compared him to before."
"After all, though, there is no possible way he could injure us," declared Ned. "Such fellows as he is generally end by hurting themselves more than the folks they have it in for."
"That may all be as true as a preacher's words,Ned," declared Herc, "but we owe it to ourselves to look out for him."
"Oh, that part of it is all right. But come on now, I'm going to get ready for the trip that I'm going to take to-night myself."
"I wish I were going with you," said Herc.
"Just think, you'll be able to lord it over the ship as a skipper all the time I'm gone," laughed Ned.
"I'm afraid a skipper with a red head won't get as much respect as you do, Ned, but I'll do my best."
After dark that night, Ned, clothed in an old suit of civilian clothes, and carrying in a small handbag some necessary instruments and a sketch block for recording his impressions, clambered down into the gig and was rowed ashore by two members of the crew who had been sworn to secrecy.
Once ashore, where there was a community of summer cottages and hotels, he engaged a gasolinelaunch to take him to a small island known as Civic Island, not far from the Neck, to which it was joined, in fact, by a bridge.
Going ashore at Civic Island, Ned turned in at a hotel and early in the morning rose, secured some provisions which he placed in his small handbag, and then set out on foot for the scene of his observations.
The Neck was a lonely place and very little frequented. On one end of it was the fort, between which and some wooded heights in which it terminated, stretched the sandy, brush-covered peninsula of the Neck, scrawny and thin as that of a giraffe.
Ned was provided with field glasses, of course, and having reached a point from which he could command a clear view of the fort, he surveyed it for some time to get his bearings. Meanwhile, of course, he concealed his body behind some bushes.
He could see the tug perfectly plainly. Therewas a big crane at its bow and it was hoisting on board large metallic shapes of globular form that he knew were mines.
At the top of the mast floated the flag of the quartermaster's department, so that Ned knew that he had the right craft spotted.
"Well, they are in no hurry, anyhow," he said to himself, as he watched the leisurely way in which the craft was being loaded. "I reckon I'll sit down and take a rest. I didn't sleep much at that hotel last night, and I'd be glad of a seat in the shade. I can keep my eyes open just as well under this bush here as standing out there in the sun."
But alas for good intentions! As he cast himself down in the shade, Ned appeared to slip gently out of the present and into the land of Nod. How long he slept he had no idea. But it could not have been very long, for when he opened his eyes again the tug, loaded with thebig, black bulks of the submarine mines, was just leaving the fort.
"Gracious! Lucky I woke up in time! A fine thing it would have been if I had blissfully slept right on!" exclaimed Ned to himself in mortified tones.
He jumped to his feet. The next instant he threw himself just as hastily down again.
He was not alone on the Neck. Not far off was a figure intently watching the tug as it slowly steamed out from the dock.
NED AT A DISADVANTAGE.
Reconnoitering cautiously from his point of vantage behind the bush, Ned could not suppress a start of surprise.
There was something familiar about the figure of the fellow he was watching. Could it be——? Ned rubbed his eyes and looked again. Then his lips came together in a firm, thin line. His eyes hardened and his hands clenched.
"The infernal rascal!" he muttered.
He had not been mistaken when he thought he recognized the figure that was watching the tug as, with its crane stretched out like a long pointing finger, it steamed out into the center of the bay.
It was Midshipman Kenworth—Kenworth, whom he supposed was visiting his relatives farinshore. Yet here he was in civilian clothes on this lonesome, sandy spit of land, apparently as much interested in the movements of the army tug as Ned himself.
What could be the solution of the mystery? Why had Kenworth come there?
A sinister thought flashed into Ned's mind. The next instant suspicion became conviction. He saw Kenworth draw out a pair of binoculars and focus them on the moving tug. Then the midshipman cast himself down into a sandy hollow, over the breast of which he pointed his binoculars at the tug.
"So-o-o-o! That's your little game, is it!" breathed Ned disgustedly. "You're even blacker than I thought you, Kenworth. I guess I'll take a hand in this thing myself. Bagging a traitor to Uncle Sam, and one who is entitled to wear the uniform of an officer and a gentleman at that, ought to be even more important than a chart of the mine positions."
Between the two, like a series of billows, stretched wave-like sand dunes. They were covered with a scant growth of wind-tortured beach plum and stiff, spiky sea grass.
But yet the growth, scant as it was, afforded a certain amount of cover. Ned's mind was soon made up as to the course he would pursue. At all hazards, it was important to catch Kenworth red-handed.
"And yet, what can his motive be?" wondered Ned to himself. "I can't conceive his purpose. He cannot be making his plans and observations for the benefit of the Blue fleet. If he dared offer them there, he would be booted over the flagship's side in two shakes. No, there is something under all this that I haven't fathomed. But I will."
Ned's firm chin closed on his jaw with a snap. With stern purpose in his eyes, the young follower of the flag began to creep forward over the billowing sand dunes.
His progress was slow, for although in the hollows he had no fear of being seen, yet when he breasted a rise he had to be careful. It was when he had attained the summit of one of these sandy acclivities that Ned noticed that the tug had come to a standstill.
The crane arm swung inboard and one of the mines, looking like a huge black shoe button, was slowly hoisted from the pile on the deck. Then through the still air came the rattling sound of chains and the shrieking whir of the steam winch as the mine was lowered.
From this, Ned turned his attention once more to Kenworth. The midshipman was squatting down in his hollow now, and with a note book on his knees, was recording some sort of observations.
Risking detection, Ned centered his binoculars on that note book. What he saw through the powerful lenses caused him to flush angrily. Kenworth was making, not without considerabledraughtsman's skill, a sketch map of the whole situation.
"Oh! you miserable wretch!" exclaimed Ned, gritting his teeth. "I'd give a whole lot to get my hands on you for about five minutes, and that's just what I'm going to do, too."
All unconscious of the concealed watcher, Kenworth sketched on. He actually appeared to take a pride in his work, from time to time holding it at arm's length as if to get a better perspective upon it. Then from his pocket he took a small camera, and made some pictures of the two forts and the stretch of water between.
"Great heavens! He's risking the loss of his commission," exclaimed Ned to himself as he saw. "There must be some uncommon motive behind all this to make him take such chances. What can it be?"
The tug was moving now, crawling like some ungainly black bug across the shimmering water.
Once more the anchor rumbled down, andagain the crane poised, swooped, and deposited another of the globular black objects, piled on the fore-deck, in the water.
Ned, watching Kenworth intently, saw him place a surveyor's instrument to his eye, no doubt to make a rough calculation of the exact spot of the planting. Following a few seconds' observation through this, he jotted down some more notes in his book.
"He's taking pains to be quite accurate," thought Ned. "He goes about his work as if it were some honorable duty he was engaged upon. I wonder how he knew about the mine planting, though? Can it be possible that he heard the message coming over the wireless, or in some manner gained access to a copy of it?"
Loyalty to his flag and country was the Dreadnought Boy's ruling passion. The sight of Kenworth, engaged upon what Ned was certain could only be treacherous work, sent a flame that seethed like a white-hot blast through his frame.
Again he moved forward, but faster now. Kenworth, all unconscious that another was creeping up on him, resumed his seat in the hollow and went on with the touching up of his rough drawings.
Ned was close upon him now. Through the grass he glided along like a snake.
But the rustle of some of the stiff grass behind him, or the fall of a miniature cascade of sand into his hollow, must have suddenly apprised Kenworth that somebody was in the vicinity.
He sprang to his feet and looked about him. At the same instant something leaped through the air with the speed of a thunderbolt.
With a roar of rage, Ned had sprung the instant that he saw that discovery was inevitable.
A sharp exclamation broke from Kenworth.
"You fool, I was prepared for you!"
Simultaneously something flashed bright in his hand, glinting in the sunlight.
The next instant Ned felt a hot flash of firein his face and the stinging of a shower of needles. He staggered back, his hands to his eyes, as Kenworth, with a cry of triumph, sprang toward the Dreadnought Boy's reeling figure.
"That's the time I got you, Mister Strong!" he exclaimed.