A PRISONER ON "THE NECK."
But his triumph was just a little bit premature. The bullet from the revolver which Kenworth had so handy had only grazed Ned's cheek. It was the powder grains that had stung him like red-hot points.
The next instant he had recovered from his temporary smoke blindness. As Kenworth jumped for him, Ned sprang at the other. As he did so, his arms shot out and Kenworth's pistol went flying through the air.
Then Ned's strong hands seized the other's wrists with the force of steel handcuffs.
"Confound you!" roared Kenworth. "I didn't get you, did I?"
"Not just yet," panted Ned, "nor for some time to come. You're my prisoner, and if youdon't want to accompany me quietly I'll find means to make you."
Kenworth's reply was an odd one. He uttered a peculiar whistle.
"Now what's that for?" wondered Ned. The question had hardly taken shape in his mind before it was answered, and in a surprising manner.
A loop was thrown over him, he fell forward, and his arms were pinioned by an irresistible force to his side, while a knee pressed into the small of his back.
"Honorable capitan lie quiet? No?" came a voice in his ear.
"It's Saki! Let me go instantly," demanded Ned.
A soft, gurgling laugh was the rejoinder.
"Yes, me Saki all right, honorable capitan; but no can let you go. You lie down lilly while."
With a trick that Ned recognized as one employed by the jiu-jitsu expert he had vanquished in the Far East, the yellow-skinned rascal, as hespoke, threw Ned sprawling on his back on the sand. Before he could make any defense another loop was slipped over his legs.
"Help!" shouted the boy. "Help! Help!"
There was a chance that his voice might carry to the distant tug.
"Ah! That velly bad to make noise, honorable sir," came Saki's soft voice, and into the struggling lad's mouth was thrust a not over-clean rag.
Effectually silenced now, Ned lay there with blazing eyes. He was beaten, as he realized with a bitter feeling at his heart. Saki and Kenworth were in league, as he had half guessed before.
Kenworth's harsh laugh made him turn his eyes in that worthy's direction.
"Well, how do you like it, eh?" he chuckled. "And you thought you could overreach me and give me orders, did you? Just take that!"
The young ruffian swung a fist crashingly into his helpless victim's face. Again and again hestruck, while Saki stood by, grinning. But suddenly the Jap interfered.
"That plenty for now. We finish our work. Then maybe soon we go way lilly while. Come back night time. Takee honorable capitan nice hotel."
The yellow man broke into a laugh as he spoke, and Kenworth, flushed and vicious from his display of vindictive fury, ceased belaboring Ned. He turned again to his sketch book and spy glasses. Saki took the opportunity to retrieve the pistol, which he handed back to Kenworth.
"Maybe good thing you not better shot," he chuckled, with sinister meaning.
The wind blew his coat aside as he stooped over, and Ned saw that, pinned within it, the Jap had a peculiar decoration. Ned knew what it was. He had seen similar ones in the Far East on the world cruise.
It was the badge denoting that the wearer belonged to Samurai, or warrior caste of Japan. Italso was conferred as a decoration on certain leaders after the Russo-Japanese war.
This Saki, then, was not the ship's steward, as he had been masquerading. Instead, he was a soldier and a veteran, and evidently, too, of high rank.
The whole thing came over Ned in a flash. What a fool he had been not to see through the plot before. The Jap, whose creature Kenworth plainly was, had seized the opportunity of the great naval maneuvers to smuggle himself into the midst of things and secure information about Uncle Sam's fighting ships and war methods that he could have gained in no other way.
The careful maps that Kenworth was drawing were destined to be sent across the Pacific, for what purpose Ned could guess. He turned eyes that blazed slow fires of contempt upon Kenworth.
The latter laughed harshly.
"Thinking you'd like to nail me, aren't you?"he sneered. "But you'd have to get up a little earlier in the morning to do that. We knew every one of your plans long ago. Saki got them in your cabin——"
The Japanese held up a warning hand.
"No talk any more. Hurry up your map," he urged.
"Pshaw! what harm does it do to tell him a few wholesome truths?" snarled Kenworth. "He's had a swelled head too long altogether. This is the time that he learns he's not as smart as he thinks, by a whole lot."
But he regarded the Jap's hint and addressed no more remarks to Ned. The Dreadnought Boy lay on the hot sands with an ardent sun burning down upon him. But he was careful to give no sign of suffering, although his thirst was beginning to be excessive.
As if he knew this, and delighted in torturing the helpless lad, Saki, from time to time, drewout an elaborately chased bottle and drank from it with much satisfaction.
"Ah! nice, cool. Veree nice," he would say, smacking his lips and proffering it to Kenworth. "Lemonade, veree good 'Merican drink."
But Ned, without the quiver of an eyelid, lay gazing up into the blazing firmament, although his throat felt as if it were cracking from a drought of centuries.
THE FRIENDLY SUN.
The sun grew hotter and hotter. From the whirring of winches and the clanking rattle of chains that was borne shoreward from time to time, Ned knew that the work of mine-laying was still going on. The work he had been sent to report!
What would be thought of him by his superiors? He felt that it was doubtful if they would believe his story, even supposing he ever got back to his ship and was able to tell it.
He wondered what his captors meant to do with him. Reasoning it out, he had not much fear that they would attempt any desperate course, but they were certain to place him where he could not give the alarm and cause their pursuit before they had had an opportunity to get clear away.
Mingled with these reflections came others. Ned speculated vainly as to how long this treachery had been going on. Probably for some time; Kenworth's note book appeared well filled. Doubtless he had become disgusted with what he deemed the unfair treatment accorded him in the navy, and had fallen an easy prey to the foreign agents who are constantly trying to discover for their countries the secrets of Uncle Sam's coast defenses and naval arrangements.
But it is rarely indeed that there is found in either branch of the service men who have fallen low enough to coöperate with these fellows. From time to time, though, such dastards are found and promptly weeded out. There was no doubt but that Kenworth belonged to the latter class.
"I wonder if Rankin does, also," thought Ned. "He was a friend of Kenworth's. It's natural he should be mixed up in his nefarious schemes and plots."
It must have been well after noon when Kenworth reported that the tug had finished her work and was going back.
"Then we go 'way," decided Saki. "Me plenty hungry. Bimeby when get dark we come back and keep you company, Honorable Strong."
"Yes, don't be afraid we'll forget you," sneered Kenworth, putting up his note book; "you've suddenly become important in my eyes."
Bestowing a parting kick on Ned's helpless form, the miserable traitor followed Saki off across the sand hills. Ned turned his eyes and watched them as they went.
So they were going to leave him there on the parching sand till nightfall, and then——
"Ned, old boy, you're sure in a bad fix," said the captive lad to himself. "There's not a chance on earth of getting away from here, and even if I could, I have failed in my mission."
The thought that he had not accomplished the duty laid out for him pained the DreadnoughtBoy far more than the contemplation of his predicament. With Ned, and with Herc, too, devotion to their ideals of duty was almost a religion. It is so with most of Uncle Sam's Jackies. But, as we know, a few black sheep are bound to crop up in every fold. Ned thought grimly that he had certainly encountered his share.
The sun beat down hotter and hotter upon the boy. Its rays burned his eyes. His lips were swollen, his every bone aching. The tortures of his thirst had almost reached the point of delirium.
Suddenly he felt an acute pain upon his hand. It stung like the thrust of a red-hot knife.
"Ouch!" exclaimed Ned, and rolled over a little.
The pain ceased, and the next instant he discovered what had caused it. His binoculars had been laid upon a rock, one of a few that cropped out here and there in the arid sand.
Clearly the Jap and Kenworth had forgottento take the glasses with them, for following his binding Ned had been stripped of everything he possessed. They lay with the small ends toward him. The sun streaming through the large lenses became concentrated into two tiny, burning dots of white light at the small end of the glasses.
The binoculars had, in fact, become converted into a burning glass, and the sharp sting on Ned's hand had been caused by one of the discs of concentrated heat. Ned was still engaged on this explanation of his pained hand when there was borne to his nostrils the sharp, acrid odor of burning cloth.
He realized in a flash what had happened. When he rolled over, the disc of burning essence of light had left his hand, but centered itself on some portion of his garments. The cloth was on fire and was smoldering.
He was powerless to feel with his hands where the cloth had ignited and could feel as yet nopain. But the odor of the burning fabric was unmistakable.
It is a curious fact, but it was not until some seconds later that Ned realized, with a thrill of horror, what that odor of burning cloth really meant.
If he could not extinguish that slowly consuming fire, it might presently burst into flame. Powerless to save himself, he would be burned alive!
For an instant he felt sick and faint. Then he rallied his faculties and began to roll over and over in the sand. After some moments of this, the odor of burning ceased.
"Thank heaven for that," thought the boy with a shudder, as he sensed his terribly narrow escape.
Suddenly his heart gave an exultant throb. A glad thought had been born in his mind. From whence the inspiration came, he did not know. It was enough that it had come.
If the rays of the binoculars that had been so providentially placed would ignite cloth, they would surely set fire to rope!
Ned rolled over once more till he could settle the tiny burning spot upon his wrist bonds. It was tedious work, and by the time he had the white hot circlet focused on the ropes, his hands were covered with tiny red burns that stung like hornets.
But in the excitement of the moment he scarcely paid any attention to these. With shining eyes he watched the rope begin to smoke. It glowed red. The air was filled with a pungent odor.
Ned gave a quick wrench. Like burned flax the charred and smoldering wrist gyves gave way. With his hands free, Ned sat up. He felt sick and dizzy, but his heart bounded with overflowing gratitude. He cast the burning ropes far from him.
A jagged clam shell lay not far off. He madehis way to it, half rolling and half staggering. Then, with the sharp shell edges he swiftly cut his leg bonds.
He found himself shaking all over. There was an odd swimming feeling in his head. The sand about him flashed red as blood and the sun reeled through it like a blazing ball of copper.
He spat the gag out of his mouth as the fit of weakness passed from him.
"Now," he said half aloud, as he rose on his aching ankles, "now to try conclusions with two of the vilest traitors it has ever been my ill fortune to encounter."
He stood thus a moment looking about him. Then, with painful footsteps, for his circulation was not yet fully restored, he set off along the Neck to where the squat, grim pile of dull red buildings marked the location of the fort.
SURPRISES.
"Halt!"
The command came like the crack of a pistol. Facing Ned stood a sentry in the uniform of the Coast Artillery. In his hands he gripped a carbine with a sinister-looking, blue-steel bayonet attached to its barrel.
"Here's where you turn back, friend, andpronto, too," grinned the sentry. He was a young fellow, with light blue eyes, stupid in expression, and a nose of the type generally described as "pug."
"I've got to get to the fort, I tell you," protested Ned.
His voice came from his parched throat like the cracked, whistling accents of a very old man. His clothes were torn in places from the beach plums, through which he had come with furioushaste, his eyes were red-rimmed and wild, and his hat was gone.
The sentry regarded him contemptuously. But his was a lonely post, a quarter of a mile out on the sandy Neck, and he decided to waste a little time with this peculiar stranger.
"Say, friend, you don't want the fort. It's your cage you want. Why don't you go right back to the Bronx, climb in, and shut the gate?"
"Look here," protested Ned, "I'm Lieutenant Strong of the Navy, at least I hold that temporary commission. I've been attacked by rascals while on duty and I'm suffering frightfully from thirst."
"I guess you are suffering fromthirst," grinned the sentry. "Be a good boy and get back to the bug-house now, or I'll have to help you."
He glanced significantly at his bayonet.
"Great Scott! Do you think I'm crazy!" cried poor Ned.
"Think it?" the sentry raised his thin, pale eyebrows, "I know it, old pal. Run along and roll your hoop now, and don't give me no more trouble. If I was to let you into the fort, I'd be put in the guard-house for a month for letting a crank through."
"But I'm Lieutenant Strong, I tell you——"
The sentry interrupted by tapping his forehead.
"Sure you are. That's all right. You can be the President if you like; it's none of my funeral."
There was a sort of soothing intonation in his voice, as if he were trying to quiet a fractious child. The stupidity of the fellow almost drove Ned wild.
He plunged a hand into his pocket. He would show the fellow by documents that he was not an impostor.
"I'll show you papers that will prove who I am," he exclaimed.
Then, with a sudden chill of horror, he recollectedthat all his papers—none of them, luckily, very important ones—had been taken from him by Saki and Kenworth. The sentry was watching him, as he frantically searched, with an amused expression.
"Say, what kind of a game are you trying to work, Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines?" he asked.
"It's not a game, I tell you," cried Ned furiously. "Those rascals who tied me took my papers. They have run off with them——"
"I guess it's you that have run off from your keepers," said the sentry, nodding his head sententiously.
It was hopeless. Even Ned, sore pressed as he was, saw that. The man was convinced that he was a crank or a crazy man of some sort and would have no dealings with him. Ned spied a canteen hung round the man's shoulder.
"At least, you'll give me a drink," he almost begged, so keen was his need.
"It ain't the sort of drink you want. Nothing but water," said the artilleryman.
"Good heavens, man, that's what I want!" rasped Ned through his parched lips. "Give me just a little. Then I'll go."
"Well, if that's all, drink hearty," said the man, in more friendly tones.
He cast a look behind him to make sure he was not observed, and then, unslinging his canteen, he passed it to Ned. The water was warm and tasted leathery, but to Ned it was unspeakably delicious. He threw back his head and let it stream over his parched palate and down his cracked throat.
"Cracky! I can hear it sizzle!" exclaimed the sentry. "Go on, take it all if you need it as badly as that. I ain't that thirsty, and besides I'll be relieved in a short time."
Ned needed no second invitation. He drained the canteen to the last drop.
"I'm ever so much obliged to you," he saidturning away; "maybe some day I'll be able to reward you with more than thanks."
"That's all right," replied the sentry heartily. "I hope you'll get over that bug of yours about being a lootenant. Why, friend, you might be an orficer in Coxey's army, but I guess that's the only branch of the service you ever had any dealings with."
Ned said nothing in reply, but with a wave of his hand walked off. He had plenty of opportunity, as he plodded along the Neck, for philosophical reflections on the part that clothes play in this world. Had he worn his uniform, he could have marched past the sentry without question. But, as it was, the man more than suspected him of being an escaped lunatic.
Ned's intention in going to the fort had been to establish instant communication with the authorities and warn them to look out for Kenworth and Saki. Of course, the fort was technically the enemy's country, but the lad rightlydeemed that the capture of two such renegades as the Jap and the midshipman took precedence of every other consideration.
Now, as he made his way back over the shifting sands, his mind was busy revolving plans for the arrest of the two who had served him in such rascally fashion.
Musing thus, he was pressing steadily on, when, on topping a rise, he came in sight of a small, sandy cove. Drawn well up into it was a sharp-bowed motor boat. A long engine hood forward showed that she carried powerful engines. On shore, beside her, lay a figure dozing in the shade. The tide rippled pleasantly and the sand alongside the beached craft afforded a cool resting place.
"The very thing!" exclaimed Ned. "Goodness knows how long it would take me to walk to Civic Island. Some time, anyhow, even if I felt in the humor to do it. I'm pretty sure thoserascals must have made for there, and if I hurry up I might catch them yet."
"Hello, there!" he hailed, running down the bank to where the man lay. "Can you start your motor on the jump? I'm in a big hurry and——"
At the sound of a voice the dozing man rolled over.
Right then Ned experienced the surprise of his life. The man was Saki!
The shock of this discovery had hardly had time to sink in, and the two were still staring at each other, when from the boat came another voice.
"If you're in a big hurry, come right aboard and save us the trouble of fetching you."
Ned looked up from Saki and faced Kenworth. The renegade midshipman was regarding him with a sardonic grin. Ned saw that he held a revolver. The weapon was pointed straight at the Dreadnought Boy's heart.
OFF FOR A CRUISE.
Kenworth had a look of triumph on his face. While Ned, dumbfounded at the turn events had taken, faced him, Saki sprang to his feet and also jerked out a pistol.
"I advise you not to run, my honorable capitan, or to make resistance," said the Jap, smiling amiably. "It would not by any means suit our purposes to have you get away just now. We must, therefore, claim you as our guest."
Ned feigned an indifference he was far indeed from feeling.
"It seems that rascals do have all the luck on their side sometimes, doesn't it?" he said.
The Jap did not reply. Instead, he turned to Kenworth, who was still standing on board the motor boat and keeping Ned relentlessly covered with his pistol.
"Put over that gangplank," he said. "We are to have the honor of an unexpected visit from clever Mr. Strong. I cannot imagine how he managed to free himself, but it is greatly to our advantage that, after having done so, he took the path that he did. Now, my honorable sir, if you will give yourself the great trouble to walk up that plank I shall be your most obedient servant. Remember I am close behind you, and if you should feel tempted to jump or run, pray recollect that I am excessively nervous, and in my excitement I might press this trigger."
"You mean you would do so," returned Ned. "I know you and your breed."
"Complimentary, is he not?" grinned the Jap, addressing Kenworth.
"It doesn't matter what he is," was the grumbling rejoinder, "we've got him tight this time, and by hookey, I mean to keep him safe and sound."
"Oh, yes, there must be no more promenades, honorable Ned," chuckled the Jap.
Ned could have throttled the grinning rascal then and there. But he reflected that to make any break to escape would probably result in serious consequences for himself. It was a lonely part of the Neck and concealed from the view of the little-traveled path that led through the brush.
Besides, he thought that possibly another chance to get away might present itself. If he proved troublesome, the two rascals would take double pains to secure him, whereas if they thought he was thoroughly subdued they might not be so particular.
With this thought in mind, he threw back his head proudly and walked across the rickety gangway with a firm step.
"At least, I won't let them see that they can scare a sailor of Uncle Sam's," he thought, lookingdefiantly into the grimacing face of Kenworth.
As soon as he was on board, the gangplank was drawn in. Then Saki addressed the involuntary guest.
"Hold out your hands, please, honorable sir."
"What for?" demanded Ned, although he guessed what was coming. They were going to bind him again.
But this time Ned guessed wrong. That is, on the present occasion the two worthies had clearly decided to use no ordinary methods of insuring the safety of their prisoner.
"I wish to present you with some jewelry," said Saki, with a grin that made Ned wild to give the oily, grimacing ruffian a good drubbing.
The next instant he produced a pair of handcuffs. Ned, situated as he was, had no choice but to submit to being manacled.
"It's what I might have expected of you," hesaid, as Saki snapped the locks shut. "May I ask what you mean to do with me?"
"We will take a little cruise out into open water till it gets dark, and then we shall return to—to—well, we shall return you to a safe place on shore for the night."
As the Jap spoke, Kenworth started the engine and then drew in the anchor. The clutch was slipped into forward speed and the motor boat moved out of the little cove, splitting the water at a good rate.
"You said you were going to take a cruise?" inquired Ned.
"Such is our intention," rejoined Kenworth, who had the wheel, with a scowl.
"I should advise you not to," was the quiet rejoinder.
"Why not?"
For answer Ned pointed to great castellated clouds piled up in majestic masses on the horizon.They towered whitely against the blue sky and appeared to be traveling at some speed.
"Well, what about those clouds?" asked Kenworth, with his customary sneer.
"Thunder heads. We are in for a bad storm, or I miss my guess," said Ned, in the same quiet tones.
"Hark at the scare-cat!" chuckled Kenworth. "Say, Ned Strong, for a braggart upstart you show the white feather mighty soon."
"If only you were concerned," retorted Ned, "I shouldn't care what became of this craft or those in it. But I'd hate to be drowned, when some day I confidently expect to be the means of bringing you two traitors to justice."
It was perhaps an unwise speech, but Ned was mad clear through. Kenworth looked at him keenly.
"So that's your little plan, eh?" he asked. "Well, I guess we know ways to checkmate that, Saki."
"Undoubtedly," responded the Jap, gravely nodding his head.
"That's all I have to say," said Ned; "go ahead and work out your own salvation. I've warned you."
"I always knew you were a coward at bottom, Strong," scoffed Kenworth, "and now I'm going to give you a cruise that will take the starch out of you for the rest of your life."
He touched the control, which was on the steering wheel like that of an automobile. The craft leaped forward like a flying fish. The spray flew high on either bow. Kenworth, a wicked gleam in his eyes, headed straight up the Sound.
THE STORM.
As Ned had foreseen, a storm was brewing. It was one of those sudden summer storms that come up almost without warning and rage furiously over the Sound. The big thunder heads rolled up rapidly till the entire sky was overcast.
Saki was sitting on the stern seat. Ned, with a gleam of satisfaction, saw that the Jap looked frightened. Indeed the weather promised to be bad enough to alarm even an experienced sailor, which Saki surely was not.
Under the dark clouds the sky was shot with an angry, lurid, copper color. The sea had turned leaden and began to heave suddenly. Still Kenworth, driven by his hatred of Ned, kept on.
It appeared that he hardly cared what becameof himself or his companion, so that he could have his revenge upon Ned. As a matter of fact, Kenworth by no means liked the looks of the weather himself. But it would have been unsafe to remain ashore with Ned, as neither the midshipman nor Saki knew with whom he had been conversing during his brief liberty. For all they could tell, although it did not appear probable, an ambush might have been laid for them. Therefore, they had decided to cruise about till it grew dark.
Ned, for his part, determined to say nothing more. He sat on a midship seat, the handcuffs on his wrists, watching the coming storm.
The wind began to moan in an eerie sort of way. It sounded like the actual voice of the coming tempest. The sea began to whip up into white caps. Suddenly the black storm curtain was ripped and rent from top to bottom by a jagged streak of livid lightning.
Saki turned a sort of pasty green. His kneesalmost knocked together. The motor boat was a narrow-waisted, wasp-like craft, and did not appear to be suited for heavy weather.
"Maybe so we better go back," suggested the Jap in a shaky voice. He glanced apprehensively at the mighty canopy of the storm overhead.
Kenworth turned on him almost savagely.
"We'll go back when I get good and ready," he said. "I want to see how much this white-livered braggart can stand. Yes, I mean you, Strong."
There was a sweeping blast of wind. It was followed by a blinding flash and then a roar like the rumble of a million celestial chariot wheels. The Jap hid his face while the lightning seared and streaked the sky as if an egg had been spattered to smithereens on a blackboard. The very air smelled sulphurous.
"I—I guess we'll go back," said Kenworth.
Just then a wave struck the side of the bow and reared its white crest high above the tossingcraft. Saki sprang to his feet as the salt water came dousing down in a regular cloudburst. It drenched Kenworth to the skin and tore from the Jap a frightened shout.
"Hope you like it," grinned Ned, the only collected person on the boat. The dark frenzy of Kenworth's mad passion had passed and now he saw with panic-stricken eyes the danger they were in. The wind was howling furiously and the waves were piling up on every side. It seemed impossible that the lightly built craft could live much longer in the tumult of waters.
Saki was in a panic of fear. Crouched on the bottom of the boat, his yellow face looked, in the glare of the almost incessant lightning, like some hideous war-mask of the old Samurai.
Ned gazed about him. The outlook was bad, very bad. And then there were those handcuffs. If only he could get them off. He addressed the terrified Saki.
"You drop that wheel, and we'll all go to Davy Jones!" shouted Ned.—Page 155
"You drop that wheel, and we'll all go to Davy Jones!" shouted Ned.—Page 155
"Here, you, take these handcuffs off. At once, do you hear me?"
He felt no fear of the groveling wretch at his feet. He even emphasized his remarks by a threatening gesture of his foot.
"Oh! Oh! Honorable Saki much frightened!" wailed the Jap.
"You contemptible yellow cur," snapped Ned, "brace up! Do you hear me? Come now, quick, the key."
The Jap actually managed to struggle to his feet and produce the key. Kenworth saw what he was doing.
"Stop that!" he yelled, and began to let go of the wheel. A shout from Ned brought him to his senses.
"You drop that wheel, and we'll all go to Davy Jones!" shouted Ned.
Kenworth gripped the spokes again. If ever fear was written on a face, it was on his. The thought of the death that was so near paralyzedhim. Perhaps he thought of that other storm off the Cuban coast when Ned had brought them safely aboard through a wilder sea than this.
The Jap's teeth chattered as he unfastened the handcuffs and Ned jerked his hands free.
"Now hand over that gun. Quick, now," snapped out Ned.
The Jap was so terrified that he would have done anything he was told. With hands that shook, he handed over the pistol. Ned took possession of it with grim satisfaction.
The chance that he had hoped against hope might come had arrived. He was on even terms with his foes. But would that fact do him any good? The storm was raging so furiously that Ned, with all his optimism, could not hope that the motor craft would live through it.
The only thing to be done, as he saw it, was to run for the lee of a point of land some distance off. If they could reach this in safety, they might have a chance. If not, and the stormcontinued to increase in violence, there was hardly one chance in a thousand for them.
The angry lightning hissed and crackled and the thunder boomed with ear-splitting clamor as Ned made his way forward to Kenworth's side. When he arrived there, he seized the other by the shoulder and shouted in his ear.
"Steer for that point yonder! It's the only chance we've got."
Kenworth, in his fear forgetting everything but the instinct of self-preservation, obediently headed the storm-stressed craft around.
It was at that moment that another sea broke upon the little vessel.
There was a sputter and a series of coughs from the engine, and simultaneously the motor, upon which all depended, went dead.
CONFESSION.
"This is the finish!"
Ned gasped out the words as he heard the last expiring cough of the motor. It was hopelessly short-circuited. The battery box was drenched, the spark-plugs dripping.
Kenworth turned a white face on him.
"You mean——"
"That your wicked schemes have ended in this, Kenworth—a miserable death for us all. This tinder box cannot live more than five minutes longer, if that. You had best prepare to meet your Maker."
Kenworth, moaning like the arrant coward he was, threw himself groveling on the floor of the boat.
"Oh—oh—oh! Can nothing save us?" hemoaned. "Listen, Strong, I have been wicked, I know. But I was poor, and gambling took away whatever money I could scrape together. I was threatened with exposure to my relatives if I did not pay my debts.
"That would have meant ruin, for, influential as they were, they had become disgusted with the poor showing I had made in the navy. It was at this crisis that I met Saki. He tempted me to betray naval secrets with promises of money. He helped me pay my debts and gave me money lavishly. In return, I furnished him with every scrap of information I could pick up. He has secret code books, fire-control plans, night signals, and details of our ammunition resources."
Ned looked at the wretch that groveled at his feet as if he could have struck him.
"How long has this been going on?" he demanded.
"For a long time. Saki had me in his power. I was helpless."
"Don't be a weakling in addition to your other faults," said Ned imperiously. "Have you that book of drawings you have been making?"
"Y-y-y-yes."
"Give it to me."
"B-b-b-but it is meant for——"
"Give it to me. If I should be saved, I will see that the proper authorities get it. If not, there will no harm come of it. Come, hand it over."
Quivering from head to foot, white-faced and limp-fingered, Kenworth fumbled in his pockets. He drew out a book and handed it over to Ned. The Dreadnought Boy took it and thrust it into his pocket.
Hardly had he done so before a giant wave swept down on the motor boat. Caught in the trough of the seas, the craft wallowed helplessly.
Then, half full of water, she sidled down theother side. Ned saw that the end was at hand. With a white, set face he ripped out some life preservers from under the seats.
"Here, put these on," he commanded Kenworth and the Jap.
As he spoke, he flung one to each. They seized them, their teeth chattering and their throats uttering sounds that were hardly human. Ned took one himself and buckled it on.
"At least the stolen secrets of the United States Navy are in safe hands now," he muttered; "if I go to the bottom, there is no better keeper of confidences than old Davy Jones. If I should save my life, no power on earth will separate me from them till I have placed them in the hands of the naval authorities."
The half-filled boat kept afloat with wonderful seaworthiness, considering her narrow build. Wave after wave, that it appeared must engulf her half water-logged hull, she rode right gallantly.
Ned actually began to entertain a ray of hope that, after all, she might weather the tempest. But it was still blowing with malignant fury, and there did not appear to be any sign of abatement in the huge seas and constant display of angry lightning.
"D-d-d-do you think she can live?" stammered Kenworth.
Ned shook his head. He turned a glance of contempt upon the conscience-stricken coward.
"Do you mean to tell me that you care for life after what you have confessed to me?" he demanded. "Why, Kenworth, if I had done one half of what you admit, I should not wish ever to meet one of my fellow men again.
"Why, man, you had a glorious chance in the finest sea service in the world! What did you do with it? Chucked it away and became a pawn, a creature of your country's enemies."
Kenworth whimpered like a whipped cur.
"I—I needed the money," he stuttered; "I washelpless in the hands of the Jap. I tried to do better, but somehow I couldn't break away. I—I always liked you, Strong. I did indeed. Can you save us?"
"Yes, you liked me so much that on every occasion you could you took advantage of the fact that you were an officer to insult and abuse me! Kenworth, now that you are frightened at the face of death, you are willing to cringe and cow to me.
"If we were all to be saved, and our positions could ever be the same again, you would be just the same. It is the nature of such men as you. But we never shall be the same again, Kenworth. Your career is ended. Driven from the navy, branded as a traitor, you will find no peace."
"B-b-b-but life is sweet, Strong. Can't you save us? Saki will give you money. Plenty of money."
"Yes, yes, honorable sir," cried the Jap eagerly. "My emperor will reward you. I, too, am rich.I will give you much money. Only save us. There is nothing——"
A scream of terror from Kenworth's white lips split the air. It sounded above the rumble of the thunder chariots.
"Look! Look!" he shrieked, high above the noises of the storm.
Towering over them, looming up through the flying wrack like the tremendous figure of fate itself, was a gigantic black form. It was right upon them.
"It's a schooner!" shouted Ned. "She's——"
There was a horrible crunching sound and the motor boat was no more. Severed clean in two, she sank, the storm-racked sea carrying with her those who a moment before had been of her company.
ORDERS ARE ORDERS.
Meantime, on board theSeneca, Herc had been feeling intense anxiety over the non-return of Midshipman Kenworth. To add to his uneasiness, also, Saki, who had been sent ashore to order some fresh provisions, had not returned.
The crew of the gig had waited for the Jap that evening (the evening of Ned's departure) for more than two hours. The village was some little distance back from the shore and they allowed him ample time to go and return, considering the fact that a trolley line connected with the place.
When he did not return within that time, the coxswain ordered a return to the ship to receive further orders from Herc, acting commandant. Herc, in some perplexity as to the best course topursue, finally decided to order a picket party to find out what had become of the Oriental.
A thorough search of the village was made and at length, in a garage, they struck the trail of the yellow man. It appeared that he had rented a car there and departed for parts unknown.
Herc decided to wait for the return of the driver. He felt in a vague yet positive way that there was more underlying the disappearance of the Japanese than could be accounted for on the supposition that he had gone off on an undisciplined joy ride.
The chauffeur returned at last. He had taken Saki to a town where the Jap had boarded a train of the main line of the Long Island Railroad. That was all he knew. He had been well paid, he volunteered, and also added that the Jap had paid him from a roll that "would trip a greyhound."
"Now what would the steward of a gunboat be doing with all that money?" mused Herc.
He pondered for a time the advisability of trying to follow the trail of the Jap; but reflection convinced him that this would be useless.
Besides, the fact that he was responsible for theSenecawould have precluded the idea. He could not make it an excuse for deserting his post that he had been in pursuit of a mere steward; and they had not any actual proof against Saki to show that he was anything more than a deserter.
His description was, however, sent out broadcast, as a renegade from the navy. This done, Herc, feeling downcast and uneasy, returned to the ship. He felt depressed. Influences of evil were at work, he felt sure of it. But the very indefiniteness of his suspicions made them the harder to bear.
"At least, I can find out if Saki was lying about being short of fresh vegetables," he said.
The assistant steward, a negro named after the ship where he had last served, Tennessee, was summoned. Herc made an inspection with him and found his worst suspicions verified. Far from being short of fresh provisions, the ship's refrigerators were amply stocked. There was no shortage anywhere that would justify the decamping steward's excuse to get ashore.
"Huh! if I'd only had horse sense enough to do this a while ago," mused Herc gloomily, "that fellow would have stood no more chance to get off this ship than a man would have to sell refrigerators at the North Pole. I'm a fine dunderhead, I am."
No wireless messages came that night, and the morning brought no news of Ned. Nor did Kenworth reappear at the appointed time.
Herc began to be seriously worried. What could have happened? The survey of the mine planting operations could not have taken more than a day. Ned should certainly have beenheard from. The silence and mystery that were closing in about Herc began to get on his nerves.
Still he attended dutifully to the routine of the ship, and Trevor, the operator, was under orders to report to him the instant anything came over the wireless. So the day wore away and with nightfall the wireless began to spit and splutter.
What Herc had dreaded had happened. The flagship was asking for Ned. Herc was in a terrible quandary. He could not tell a lie and pretend that Ned was on board or had been heard from. Yet if he did not shield his comrade in some way, Ned was almost certain, unless he had an excellent excuse for his absence, to get into serious trouble. Even a courtmartial might result.
At length the wireless became imperative.
"If Lieutenant Strong not on board, get in instant communication with him. Important.—Dunham."
"Try and get the flagship again," Herc ordered.
Trevor bent over his key. For a long time he kept sending his crackling waves out into space. But no answer came.
"Can't you get 'em?" demanded Herc impatiently.
The operator shook his head dismally.
"No use trying. The air is full of messages. They're buzzing like flies round a honey-pot. I'll try again later on, sir."
Herc began to see that the command of theSenecawas not going to prove any bed of roses. Already he was plunged into the middle of a puzzle to which there appeared to be no key.
Not only had Kenworth and the Jap vanished, but Ned Strong was not to be found. Yet there were the orders: "Get in instant communication with him."
Herc gave a dismal groan. The more hethought matters over, the more complicated did they become.
"By the bald-headed American steer," he grunted, in the seclusion of his cabin, "this beats anything I ever tackled. However, orders are orders and must be obeyed to the letter. I've got to get into communication with Ned. Just as if I wouldn't have done that long ago if I'd had the chance!"
Turning the command of the ship over to one of the warrant officers, Herc changed into plain clothes and then summoned the crew of his gig. He was rowed ashore and sought out the man from whom Ned had rented the gasoline craft which took him to Civic Island.
The man could shed no light on the matter, beyond saying that he had taken Ned to his destination. A sudden determination came over Herc.
Ned had, then, arrived at Civic Island. He must go there at once and take up the trail.
"It's a blind one," he muttered, "but I'll follow it to the end if it costs me my commission."
Some time later the same gasoline craft that had conveyed Ned, landed Herc at Civic Island. It had fought its way alongshore through the same storm that had brought disaster to Ned. Despite the idea he had formed of the difficulties of the task in front of him, Herc did not imagine, even in his more despondent moments, what a trail of trouble it was that he had set out upon.
ON THE "TWIN SISTERS."
Ned opened his eyes. His first thought was that he was in his bunk on theSeneca. But an instant's glance about at his surroundings soon dispelled that idea.
He lay on a rough shelf, rather than bunk, on a pile of dirty blankets. Another frowsy covering was thrown over him. Above him were beams and cross planks by which he would have known, even had it not been for the motion, that he was on board a vessel of some sort.
The place in which he found himself was clearly a small cabin. In the center of the forward bulkhead stood a rusty stove with a high rail to keep the pots and pans simmering on it from sliding off under the motion of the ship.
Some sea clothes swung from a line stretchedacross the ceiling. In a corner, against a locker, stood some hip boots, above which oil-skin coats were hung. The place was dirty, stuffy and smoky to the last degree. The last mentioned attribute was not improved by the sooty radiance from a dim lantern swinging from one of the carlines.
"Where on earth—what——?" muttered Ned, raising himself on one arm as he made his survey.
And then, like the inrush of the tide, memory came back.
The storm, the wild ride of the motor boat! The confession of Kenworth, the yielding of the note book, and then the last terrible scene when the immense black mountain that towered above them for a flash had engulfed and broken them!
Ned felt weak and dizzy. But his mind rapidly cleared. He had a vague recollection of having been struck a blow when the motor boat was cut in half. Beyond that he knew nothing more.Yet he must have been rescued. Determined to unravel the mystery and also to ascertain if possible what had become of Kenworth and Saki, he made an effort to rise.
But he was so weak that it was some moments after he had made the first attempt that he succeeded. His coat hung near him on a hook. His shirt and trousers he had on. His first action, when he reached for his coat, was to dive into its pockets in search of the book he had forced from Kenworth.
He gave an exclamation of satisfaction as he felt its outlines and drew it forth. It was damp, but not wet within its covers, for the outside of the volume that contained so many of Uncle Sam's secrets was clasped tightly by a strong rubber band. This had kept the water from smudging any of the drawings or writing.
But Ned just then did not give much thought to the book, precious to him though it was. His main object was to discover just where he wasand how he came there. There was a steep little stairway, or ladder, opposite the stove.
Ned climbed it and found himself on the stern deck of a small schooner. She was spanking along, eating her way up against a head breeze while great clouds of sparkling spray tossed over her thundering, pounding bow.
Standing beside the wheel was a short, thick-set man with iron-gray whiskers shot with reddish hair. He was roughly dressed and a pipe,—short and thick like himself,—was in his mouth.
By his side sat a one-eyed black and white dog, with one ear cropped and the other hanging down dejectedly. Forward, Ned saw two men attending to the jib sheets as the schooner came about and went away on another tack.
The man at the wheel being too busy in attending to this maneuver to notice Ned, the Dreadnought Boy, with the thunder of the shivering sails in his ears, looked about him.He instantly recognized their whereabouts. The schooner was crossing New York Bay.
Looking back he could see the battlemented spires and domes of the skyscrapers on the lower end of Manhattan Island, and further up the East River the spidery outlines of Brooklyn Bridge. Ferryboats moved rapidly to and from Staten Island, and close at hand a big tramp was coming along, making for her dock in the Erie Basin.
As the rattle and bang of the sails ceased as they took the wind and the schooner filed off on the other tack, the thick-set man at the wheel gave his attention to Ned. So did the dog. It came sniffing around his ankles growling ominously.
The bearded man removed his pipe.
"Here you, Tops'l, go off on another tack, d'ye hear? Starboard, hard over!"
The sea-going canine appeared to understand,for it relinquished its scrutiny of Ned and came over to its master.
"Inter drydock with you, you flea-chawed stepson of a coyote," grunted the man, and then he was free to turn his attention to Ned.
"Hello!" he grunted gruffly. "How yer feelin'?"
"Pretty good, thanks," responded Ned. "I guess it's you I have to thank for saving me from the Sound last night, for I see by the sun that its near noon of another day."
"'Tis that. We lost a lot of time down ther East River. It's gittin' so that tugs clutters up the river worser nor taxicabs does the streets. But we come down under sail. No fifteen dollars down fer me, thank you."
He looked oddly at Ned from under his bushy eyebrows.
"Can you anyways recall jes' what happened las' night?" he asked presently.
Ned shook his head.
"I've not the least idea," he said. "All I know is that something cut our motor boat in two and then everything got dark. By the bump I've got on my head, I imagine something hit me. But there were two other men in the boat with me. Do you know anything about them?"
The bushy brows contracted. The man looked away, removed his pipe, spat reflectively and then faced Ned again.
"I don't know nuthin' about nobody but you," he said, in the same odd way, and then he returned to his previous question.
"You don't recklect nuthin' more'n what you told me?"
"That is absolutely all," rejoined Ned, puzzled by the man's insistence on this one question.
"Well, then it weren't me as run you down. I don't want no claim for damages on theTwin Sisters."
"You won't have any, so far as I'm concerned,"said Ned, a light beginning to dawn upon him; "but tell me how you came to pick me up?"
"I'll tell you the way of it, no deception and no lies," said the bushy-browed man. "Cap'n Lemuel Briggs ain't the man to lie. Look at me. Do I look like a man who would inwent of malice aforethought a faberrycation?"
"You don't," replied Ned, inwardly thinking that Captain Briggs did not to any vast extent measure up to his description of himself.
"Very well, then, matey, you shall have the truth on it," said Captain Briggs, with a fine open air. "There ain't a man from here plumb to the Pearly Gates that could ever accuse me of ex-er-ager-ation.
"Arter we—that is, arter we seen that other schooner run yer down, I puts my wheel hard over. Then I sends a man up in the bow to look out fer anyone that he could save, me being one of the most humane skippers that ever used a handspike on a frisky deckhand. He climbsdown into the bobstay riggin' and the first thing he catches sight of is you, right under the bow. He grabs you and we gets you on deck and puts you to bed, and now here you are up again, bright and spry, and ready to pay liberal for yer rescue, I hopes."
Ned looked embarrassed. Although he was pretty sure that Captain Briggs' schooner, despite the captain's asseverations to the contrary, was the one that had run down the motor boat, he still felt grateful to the man for being the means of saving his life. But his pocketbook had been stolen by Kenworth and Saki, no doubt in the hope that it might contain papers of value.
He was penniless. His embarrassment must have showed pretty plainly on his face, for Captain Briggs gave a wave of his hand.
"That's all right, matey," he said magnanimously. "I kin see that you come of good folks and kin pay well. If you ain't got much withyou now, you can write me a check or we'll wait till you can take me to your folks."
"But I haven't any folks here, nor have I a check-book or any large sums of money anywhere," said Ned, perplexed about getting out of this unforeseen difficulty. "Where are you bound for?" he added.
The captain looked cunning. He laid his finger to one side of his pimply, bottle-shaped nose.
"That's a bit of a secret, my lad. But I don't mind telling you this. It's on the Jersey shore above Perth Amboy."
"Very well, then," said Ned relieved, "you put me ashore in Perth Amboy and I'll send you whatever money I can raise to any address you give."
The captain stared at him as if in deep thought. For a moment he said nothing. Then he found words.
"Ain't you a nice one ter try yer deceivin' ways on poor ole Cap'n Briggs?" said he in an injuredtone. "Fellers like you ain't ridin' roun' in motor boats with no money to do it on. You'll stay right here with me till you send for a messenger or telegraft or find some way to have the money paid right over to me."
"How much do you want?" asked Ned.
"Three hundred dollars, my lad, and little enough that is to a young millionaire like you."
"But I couldn't get that much, anyhow," gasped Ned.
"Then I'm werry sorry to be obleeged to state that you'll stay here with me until yer do," responded Cap'n Briggs.
He cast a cunning glance at Ned from under his bushy brows out of his bleary, blood-shot eyes. Then he dived into his pocket and produced a large flask.
"I won't treat you no ways mean. Have a drink, matey?" he asked.
"I wouldn't touch the stuff," said Ned, whobegan to see a partial reason for the captain's obstinacy.
The captain shrugged his shoulders and took a long pull. Then, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he replaced the bottle and gave an order to "Haul sheets and go about once more."
"Looks like I'm destined to get into tight places that I can never explain to anyone's satisfaction," mournfully muttered Ned to himself, as the little schooner yawed and pitched and finally clawed her way round on the other tack.