Had Jack Benson or Hal Hastings heard that strange talk, perhaps neither of them would have slept as soundly that night.
As it was, both submarine boys slept more soundly and sweetly than any other human being in that great hotel, unless, possibly, it were Jacob Farnum.
At daylight all three were astir.
Wrapped in bathrobes that concealed their bathing suits the three made their way down to the beach. There, for ten minutes, they enjoyed themselves in the surf.
"Seems mighty queer to be bathing in salt water in December, doesn't it?" demanded Hal, gleefully, as, with both hands, he launched a column of salt water that caught Jack neatly in the face.
"Anyway, I believe it's just what the family medical man ordered," chuckled Mr. Farnum, as he stepped shoreward, then ran briskly up and down the beach before he went in again for a final plunge.
Over to the bath house, where an attendant had carried their clothing, the three now hastened. After a brisk rub-down and dressing, these three from the "Benson" presented themselves in the hotel dining room, where, at this very early hour, they were privileged to breakfast all by themselves.
"The way my appetite feels," laughed Jack, enjoyably, "I pity the guests who have to follow us at table."
"There won't be any breakfast left. They can have lunch," declared HalHastings, gravely.
Hardly had the food been placed before them when Mr. Farnum glanced up, to find at his elbow a bowing, smiling little Japanese.
"Honorable sir, may I address you while you eat?" inquired the little brown man.
"Why not?" asked Farnum, good-humoredly. "Take a chair, won't you,Mr.—"
"Kamanako is my name, honorable sir," replied the Japanese, with three more bows.
"Take a seat, won't you, Mr. Kamanako?" Mr. Farnum invited him again.
"It is much better, honorable sir, that I stand."
"Why?"
"Because I am servant."
"Not here, surely," replied the shipbuilder. "All the waiters here are negroes."
"Not all in kitchen, honorable sir," responded the Japanese, with an air of great deference. "Some in kitchen are Japanese."
"Are you employed in the kitchen, Mr. Kamanako?" asked the shipbuilder.
"Until to-day, honorable sir."
"Meaning you have left the employ of the hotel?"
"Yes, honorable sir."
"Then you're going away from here?"
"I hope to follow the sea, honorable sir. I am a sailor. All my ancestors before me were sailors. We love the salt water."
"There is something, then, that I can do for you, isn't there?" guessed the shipbuilder.
"If you will be so good, honorable sir. I seek to become steward aboard your boat."
"Oh," replied M. Farnum, understanding, at last. "You will have to speak to Captain Benson about that."
He indicated Jack by a nod, so the little Japanese turned to Benson with another bow.
Now, as it happened, a steward was just what Captain Benson wanted. Such duties, formerly, had fallen upon Eph Somers. But now cooking and serving meals did not exactly jibe with Eph's present position aboard the "Benson" Eph was really first officer or mate.
"Yes, we want a steward," Jack admitted. "There's just one drawback, though, Kamanako. We can carry very few people aboard, so that everyone who does ship with us has to count. In other words, our steward must also cook the meals in the galley."
"I think that will be all right, honorable Captain," replied theJapanese, thoughtfully. "How many have you on board?"
"Six," answered the young submarine commander.
Kamanako thoughtfully counted that number on his fingers.
"It is not too many," replied the Japanese. "What do you pay, honorableCaptain?"
"Forty dollars, and found."
"I will accept, honorable Captain."
"Are you sure that you can cook well enough for hungry sailors?"
"I am satisfied that I can cook for anyone, honorable Captain," rejoined the little brown man, rather proudly.
"That sounds well enough," smiled Jack. "Have you had your breakfast,Kamanako?"
"Oh, yes, honorable Captain."
"Then, if you'll wait for us, we'll take you aboard. We shall be going in a half an hour, or sooner."
"Would it not be as well, honorable Captain, if I go out before you?" asked Kamanako, respectfully.
"No," smiled, Benson. "Our first officer, Mr. Somers, does not take kindly to strangers who are not introduced."
"Then, if I may suggest—if honorable Captain will write note for me—then I might go out sooner."
"If you want to go aboard, Kamanako, we'll take you out when we go," Jack replied. He was annoyed, though he could not have told why, by the little brown man's insistence.
Smiling and bowing again, Kamanako left the dining room. He was waiting, though, when the others came out. As all three carried dress suit cases the Japanese quietly took those belonging to Mr. Farnum and Captain Benson.
"Most sorry I have not three hands, honorable officer," Kamanako assuredHal Hastings.
There were always plenty of shore boats at Spruce Beach. Just now, on account of the visit of the submarine, there appeared to be more of the small craft than usual. So the submarine party had no difficulty in finding transportation at once. Looking out into the harbor they beheld the "Benson," surrounded by more than a score of rowboats containing sight-seers. Eph Somers, backed by Williamson, stood on the platform deck, doggedly driving away people who wanted to come on board. Yet Eph kept wholly good-natured about it, for he could quite appreciate the curiosity of the sight-seers.
As this last boat from shore made its way, through the concourse of boats Jack heard a sudden, joyous hail in a woman's voice.
"Oh, here he is—my gallant young captain."
"Mlle. Nadiboff!" ejaculated Jack, under his breath.
Jacob Farnum turned his head away for an instant, but the young captain heard the unmistakable sound of a chuckle from the shipbuilder.
Kamanako turned his mild eyes inquiringly in the direction of the handsome young woman, as though he wondered who she might be.
"Good morning, Mademoiselle," was Jack's greeting, as he courteously lifted his uniform cap. Hal and Mr. Farnum also uncovered. Then the boat ran alongside, and all four clambered on the deck.
In another instant. Mlle. Nadiboff's boat was also alongside.
"You are going to be kind, my Captain, and invite me aboard?" asked the young woman. Eph Somers, who was never intentionally rude to a woman, found himself staring with all his eyes, whereat he colored hotly.
"I shall be very glad to invite you as far as I am permitted to invite visitors," Benson replied. Then, turning briefly to Eph, he muttered:
"The Japanese is to be cook and steward. Take him below, and show him the galley and the supplies."
Then Benson turned to reach down his hand to Mlle. Sara Nadiboff, who trustingly extended her hand to him. She slipped. Jack was obliged to throw his left arm lightly around her waist in order to draw her in safety to the platform deck. Mr. Farnum, after seeing her safely aboard, vanished inside the conning tower, going below to smile quietly to himself.
"As gallant as ever, my Captain!" murmured the handsome young woman spy, gazing almost tenderly into Jack's face. "What a very strange craft! And now, conduct me below, please. I am much interested in seeing how you all live aboard such a little and odd vessel of war."
"I am utterly sorry, Mademoiselle," Jack Benson replied. "But my orders are that no visitors except naval officers, or those brought aboard by naval officers, may see the interior of the boat."
"Yet that Japanese has just gone below!" remonstrated Mlle. Nadiboff.
"The Japanese," replied the young captain, "is our cook and steward, and belongs below."
A light glowed swiftly in Mlle. Nadiboff's eyes, but disappeared almost instantly.
The handsome young woman opened her mouth as though to speak, then compressed her lips tightly.
"You are not as gallant as you were last night," murmured Mlle. Sara, in a low tone.
"Last night I was ashore, on social pleasures bent," replied Jack."To-day, I am on duty, and duty must go ahead of everything else."
"And I am hungry," continued the young woman, pathetically. "In my eagerness to see that boat that you command, my Captain, I came away from the shore before going through the ceremony of breakfast. Do you mean to say, Captain Benson, that you cannot conduct me to your cabin, there to have that—your Japanese—serve me with at least a sandwich?"
"Mademoiselle," cried Jack, apologetically, "you can't have the faintest idea how sorry I am that my instructions are what they are I feel wicked as I look at your distress, but it is simply wholly impossible for me to ask you below. I can have food served to you on deck, however."
"What? Eat here before the eyes of all Spruce Beach? And have it made perfectly plain to every onlooker that I am not welcome here?" cried the woman spy, reproachfully.
"Oh, but, indeed, you are welcome here," protested Jack. "As welcome as I am permitted to make anyone. My orders, you know—I am a slave to those orders."
"Yet there is some one aboard," urged Mlle. Nadiboff, in her most pleading voice, while there was an almost tearful look in her pretty eyes, "some one who can change the orders. Your Mr. Farnum, I take it. Go to him, won't you, and plead with him for me? Go!"
One of her little, gloved hands rested on his arm, pushing gently.
But Jack Benson, though she made him feel inwardly at odds with himself, thought more of his duty than of anything else.
"I am very sorry—awfully sorry, Mlle. Nadiboff. But won't you understand that what you ask is wholly impossible?"
"Good-bye, then!" she said, resentfully, though gently, half turning from him.
"You'll shake hands, won't you?" asked Jack, holding out his own right hand.
"Perhaps, after I have talked with you on shore—when we meet again," she replied, a bit distantly. Then she turned to Williamson as her boat came in close alongside. "Your hand, please. I am afraid I may slip."
Williamson helped that most attractive young woman down over the side, lifting his cap after he had seen her safe aboard the rowboat. As the harbor craft veered off, Captain Jack Benson lifted his cap with all courtesy. Mlle. Sara Nadiboff bowed to him rather coldly.
"I suppose," sighed Jack, to himself, as he turned away, "a woman can't begin to understand why we must be so secret aboard a submarine craft that all the naval men in the world would like to know about. If she only could understand!"
Had Benson been able to guess just how well the handsome young spy did understand, and how much she had hoped to learn through appealing to his interest in her, he would have been furious at the thought of his own great simplicity.
"Your charming partner of last night was rather disappointed," observedHal Hastings.
"Yes; she must feel that I have used her mighty shabbily," Jack responded. "I am afraid she won't forgive me."
"Oh, well, after a few days you'll never see her again," murmured Hal. "Just because a girl is pleasant—and pretty—one can't forget all the orders that he's working under."
Captain Jack Benson talked to himself in about the same strain, yet he couldn't wholly get over the notion that he had been—though helplessly—rude to a woman.
"You won't need me on deck any more, will you, sir?" asked Williamson, saluting.
"No; I shall be on deck," Jack replied, returning the salute. "Very likely Mr. Hastings will be here with me, for that matter."
Soon after the machinist had gone below Eph Somers returned to the deck.
"I've been posting that Kimono," Eph explained.
"Kamanako," laughed Captain Jack.
"Oh, it's all the same to me," sighed Eph. "To my untrained ear allJapanese names sound alike."
"Whatever you do," warned Jack, "don't, hurt the poor fellow's feelings by calling him Kimono."
"Why not?"
"Well, the Japanese are a proud and sensitive race.
"Suppose they are?"
"Do you know what 'Kimono' means, Eph?"
"Haven't even a guilty suspicion."
"It's the Japanese name for a woman's dress."
"Wow!" muttered Somers. "I shall surely have to, forget 'Kimono,' then.What do you call his truly name?"
"Kamanako," Jack responded, and spelled it. Eph wrote the name down on a slip of paper, saying:
"Thank you, Jack. I'll try to commit this name to memory. I don't want to hurt the feelings of a sensitive little fellow. It would be a shame to have to punch him if he felt insulted and made a pass at me."
"Punch him, eh?" laughed Jack in genuine enjoyment. "Eph! Eph! Don't make any false start like that!"
"What are you talking about?" questioned Somers.
"Don't make the mistake, at any time, Of trying to punch that Japanese."
"Trying to?" gasped Somers. "Say, if I made a swing at that light colored little chocolate drop, do you think I'd make a false pass and hit my own nose?"
"You might be lucky if nothing worse happened," grinned Jack. "Eph, did you never hear of the Japanese jiu-jitsu?"
"What's that?" demanded young Somers. "Slang name for something else in the Jap wardrobe?"
"No; it's the Jap way of fighting," Captain Benson explained. "And you want to remember, Eph, that's it's a mighty sudden system, too. It hits like lightning. When the smoke clears away you see a little Japanese bowing over you, and apologizing for having rudely tipped you over."
"And little Cabbage-Jacko could do that?" Eph grinned, incredulously."Say, it's wrong to tell me such funny things when I have a cracked lip."
"All right," sighed Jack. "But at least you've been warned."
Truth to tell, the young submarine commander wasn't much worried about Eph's deliberately provoking any fistic encounter with a fellow much smaller than himself. In the first place, the carroty-haired boy wasn't quarrelsome, unless actually driven into a fight. At all times Somers was too manly to take out wrath on anyone merely up to his own shoulder height.
Nearly an hour later Jack Benson stepped through into the conning tower; then moved down the spiral staircase.
His rubber-soled deck shoes made no noise. Thus it happened that the young submarine commander came upon the new steward most un expectedly, and without being seen by the little, brown man.
"Kamanako—you scoundrel!" shouted the young captain, beside himself with sudden wrath.
For the Japanese, wholly absorbed in his present task, had deftly removed the gauge from the midships submergence apparatus, and was now dissecting the gauge itself, eyeing the parts with the knowing look of an expert.
At sound of the captain's voice Kamanako wheeled calmly about, holding up the gauge. The smile on the face of the Japanese was childlike and bland.
"This very queer thing," he murmured. "What for you use it—thermometer."
"No," retorted Jack Benson, frigidly, eyeing the detected one. "It's a barometer, and it shows which way a meddler blows in!"
"I don't understand," remarked the Japanese, looking perplexed.
"Then I'll help you to understand. First of all, put that gauge down on the table!"
Kamanako did so, then made a little bow.
"Now," continued Jack Benson, "take cap and go up on deck."
"What shall I do there, Captain?" asked Kamanako, politely.
"Well, you'll stand there until I see if you've done anything else on board. If you haven't, you can then take a boat to the shore—and stay there."
"What this mean, honorable Captain?" demanded Kamanako, a look of offense beginning to creep into his little, brown face.
"Well, if you must have it," returned Benson, coldly, "it means that I've found you spying into our mechanisms here. Now, a spy is a creature no one cares to have about—least of all on a warship."
"You call me spy—call me ugly name like that?" cried Kamanako, showing his teeth.
"Get your hat and go up on deck. Do you hear me?" insisted Captain Jack.
"I hear you, but I please myself about when I do it," retorted theJapanese, drawing himself up to his full though not very imposing height.
"Then you'll go without waiting for your hat," retorted Benson, his patience rapidly oozing now. He started toward the Japanese, just as Eph, hearing the sound of talking, looked in and down the staircase.
"Gunpowder and smoke!" ejaculated the carroty-topped boy. "It's little chocolate drop!"
"Are you going up on deck quietly and in an orderly way?" demandedBenson, a resolute glitter in his clear, blue eyes.
"I please myself," retorted Kamanako, defiantly.
At that Jack Benson promptly forgot the warning he had given Eph, and sprang at the inquisitive steward.
"You'll go—" began Benson.
He was in error, though. It was he himself who "went." As he reached out with his right hand to seize Kamanako something happened. Exactly what it was the young submarine captain never quite knew. But he found himself sprawling under the seat at the opposite side of the cabin.
"Hi, yi! Wow!" exploded Eph, darting down the stairs. "Save some of that for me!"
It was ready and waiting.
The carroty-topped boy crouched low, resting his hands on his knees, after the manner of a football player awaiting an assault.
Kamanako slid in close. Ere Eph could seize him the Japanese let himself fall lightly on one side. One of his feet hooked itself behind Eph's advanced left ankle, the other foot pressing against the knee of the same leg. Eph's ankle was yanked forward, his knee pressed back, and Somers went toppling as a tree in the forest does.
Kamanako was so quickly on his feet again to suggest that he had fallen and risen in the same movement. There was a quiet, yet dangerous, smile on the face of the Japanese.
The door of the engine room opened swiftly though noiselessly.Williamson, the machinist, took in the whole scene instantly. Hardly afull step forward he took when his fist landed between the shoulders ofKamanako, sending that young Japanese through the air, to land sprawling.
As Kamanako leaped to his feet he found himself blinking at the muzzle of a revolver that the machinist held in his right hand.
"Don't get troublesome," advised the machinist, softly. "I've never shot a Jap, but I've always wanted to."
There was a flicker of a grin in Williamson's face that found a reflection in Kamanako's own features.
By this time Jack Benson was on his feet, a bit ruffled though with all his wits about him. At the same time Hal Hastings peered down from the top of the staircase.
"You've had all the fun so far, Kamanako," Jack admitted. "But now you've got to get off this boat mighty quick. Do you choose to go without any more fuss?"
"I go when I get ready," retorted the Japanese, sullenly.
"What's the matter, Jack?" asked Hal, slowly.
"I've caught a dirty spy at work overhauling our mechanisms," replied the young submarine boat commander.
With something of a snarl Kamanako turned as though to spring at Benson again. The sight of Williamson, immovable as a piece of marble, yet holding that revolver suggestively, cooled the Japanese ardor.
"How will it do, Captain," queried Hal, "if I pass the word to the gunboat and, have a file of marines come over to take charge of this spy?"
"First rate," clicked Benson, and Kamanako looked decidedly uneasy. He had his own reasons why he didn't care to be placed under arrest by United States troops.
Eph, striking on his head, had been knocked senseless. He was too strong, however, too full of vitality, to remain knocked out for long. Now, he half opened his eyes, as he murmured:
"How beautifully the birds are singing today! And there's mother, letting down the bars so the cows can go to the milking shed!"
Jack laughed, in spite of himself. Then he turned to the Japanese.
"Kamanako, do you want to go quietly, or remain to see what the Navy officers do with you?"
"I go now," replied the Japanese, with a shrug of his shoulders.
Turning, he started up the step, while Hal Hastings, regaining the deck before him, hailed one of the harbor boats.
Jack darted to where Eph was trying to sit up, and raised him to one of the cabin seats.
"What do you think, now, of jiu-jitsu?" asked the young captain.
"I don't know," confessed Somers, sheepishly. "I didn't see any of it."
At this moment a stateroom door opened and Jacob Farnum thrust his head out.
"Anything happening?" inquired the ship builder.
"No, sir," Jack answered. "It's all over."
Mr. Farnum came out, to ask further particulars. Williamson, as soon as he had seen the Japanese disappear up aloft, dropped his revolver back into his pocket, closing the engine room door.
Eph, however, had his own private idea of vengeance to execute. Up the stairs he went, holding hard to the spiral rail, for he was still a bit dizzy. Kamanako, having dropped into the stern of a shore boat, looked unconcerned as he was pulled away.
"Yah!" grunted Eph, shaking his fist. "You kimono! Kimono! Kimono!"
"What does that mean when it's translated?" inquired Hal, looking interested.
"That's a Japanese insult," grinned young Somers.
"Do you think Kamanako understands it?" queried Hastings.
"If he doesn't then what good does it do him to be Japanese?" Eph demanded.
Jacob Farnum listened with great interest to what his young captain had to tell him. David Pollard, being still asleep, had no notion, as yet, of what had happened.
"I reckon," muttered the shipbuilder, "It won't be any use to have anyJapanese aboard here as steward, or as anything else."
"I shan't hire any more of them," Benson replied. "I shall always suspect a spy, after this, when I see any Japanese aboard any kind of a war craft, or serving at any military post."
"I'm sorry I missed seeing Eph do the flying somersault act, though," laughed Mr. Farnum.
"I missed it as much as you did," admitted Jack Benson. "At the moment my face was buried in the carpet."
When the two ascended to the platform deck Captain Jack asked, soberly:
"Well, Eph, what is your present opinion about the ability of a Japanese to look after himself?"
"Don't rub it in," muttered Somers, with another sheepish grin.
"Oh, that's all right," retorted Jack. "I came in for pretty nearly as much as you did. I may meet Kamanako again, however. If I do, I'll pay him back."
"What?" gasped young Somers. "Jack Benson, I thought you knew enough to be sure when you've had plenty!"
"I'll pay that little fellow back, just the same, if I ever get a half-way chance," insisted Benson.
"Please yourself," muttered Eph, grimly. "As for me, I'm not looking for any damages. I've had plenty of 'em already."
Not much later the submarine people were favored by a visit from some of the officers of the gunboat.
Plans were discussed for making some displays of the submarine's strong points on another day. When the officers had gone, Mr. Farnum turned to the boys to propose:
"You've never seen any of the country around Spruce Beach. Neither have I. What do you say if we go ashore? I'll charter an auto, and we can have quite a trip before it's luncheon time. Then we'll come back and eat at the hotel."
Right under the shadow of the gunboat, Williamson could be relied upon as being sufficient guard. But David Pollard declined to go ashore, on the plea that he had some letters to write, which left a guard of two on board.
It was eleven o'clock, just to the minute, as the automobile chartered by Mr. Farnum came around the corner of the hotel veranda. At that same instant another and handsomer car came rolling into sight. The door of the ladies' parlor opened, and Mlle. Sara Nadiboff, arrayed with unusually pleasing effect, came out.
As she caught sight of Jack she started, then came eagerly over to him, holding out her hand.
"Here comes my car," she murmured. "And I see, my Captain, that you have changed your mind. You will drive with me this morning."
"I'm sorry that I can't," Benson replied, and he meant it. "But I am engaged to go with Mr. Farnum and our party."
"You prefer to avoid me?" cried Mlle. Nadiboff, reproachfully, raising her eyes swiftly to his.
"Now, please don't say that," begged Benson. "I wish you could understand, Mademoiselle, how far from the truth it is."
"Say but the word, and Mr. Farnum will pardon you," coaxed the charming young Woman.
"I couldn't even think of that," replied Benson. "It is business to go with one's employer."
"Business?" repeated Mlle. Nadiboff, with an accent half of disdain. "Surely, you are not sufficiently a petty shop-keeper or serf to think always of that word, 'business!'"
"I fear I am," Jack nodded.
"Bah! Then you will never be a success with the ladies," tauntedMlle. Nadiboff, though her eyes were laughing, challenging.
"Of course, I'm only a green country boy," Jack replied, with admirable coolness, and without any tone of offence. "So my highest ambition is to be a success in the submarine business."
The young woman had tact enough to perceive that she had not quite scored by her contempt for business. She was about to change subject adroitly, when Mr. Farnum called, laughingly:
"Are you coming with us, captain? Or, have you found pleasanter company for a drive?"
Jack's hand started toward his uniform cap. He was about to excuse himself, when the young woman answered for him:
"He was just assuring me, Mr. Farnum, that he would gladly go with me, but that you had the right of prior engagement."
"Oh, I'll release, him," volunteered Mr. Farnum, his eyes twinkling.
"Now, my Captain, you can no longer find excuse, unless you truly prefer other company to mine."
Though Jack was interested in the vivacious manner of Mlle. Nadiboff, he had not yet lost his head under any of her flatteries. He was secretly irritated against Mr. Farnum for letting him off so easily. So Jack swiftly determined upon his own plan of evening matters.
"The way the affair has turned out, Mademoiselle, I shall be delighted to go in your cars. Yet I am going to ask one every great favor."
"A thousand, if you wish!" cried the young woman spy, graciously.
"Will you permit me to invite my chum, Mr. Hastings?"
"Assuredly," she replied, with a very pretty pout, "if you feel that you will find my company, alone, too dull."
"It isn't that," Jack replied, with ready gallantry. "I am anxious to have Hastings share my rare good fortune."
Then raising his voice he called:
"Hal, Mlle. Nadiboff desires me to invite you to come, too."
Young Hastings was quick-witted enough to understand that this was all but a command from his chum. So he hastily left Mr. Farnum, stepping over to join the other party. Mlle. Nadiboff's little booted right foot tapped the flooring of the veranda impatiently, but that was the only sign of displeasure she gave. Her eyes were as laughing and as gracious as ever. She extended her hand to Hal, who bowed low over it in knightly style—a trick he had caught from his observation of naval officers.
Then, as though to punish Jack, Mlle. Nadiboff asked:
"You will hand me into the car, Mr. Hastings?"
Hal did so, taking the seat beside her in the tonneau. Jack Benson, suppressing a twinkle that struggled to his eyes, closed the tonneau door, then stepped in on the front seat beside the chauffeur.
Despite her own cleverness, the young woman gave a slight gasp of astonishment over this swift arrangement.
"Decidedly, my young captain is not wholly, a fool," she told herself. "When I seek to snub him, he puts it past my power. However, it may be that this young engineer will be better suited to my purpose. I will study him."
"Toot! toot!" The Farnum auto, getting away first, went past them, sounding its whistle while Mr. Farnum and Eph lifted their hats.
"Our gallant friend, the captain, must feel out of conceit with me," laughed Mlle. Nadiboff to Hal. "He prefers the chauffeur's company to mine. So we must console ourselves."
Though he had not been able to hear any of the conversation, M. Lemaire, looking out from behind the lace curtains of a parlor window, had seen what had happened.
"Sara is doing better this morning," he muttered to himself. "Though why should she take two of the young men with her? Ah, I see that she has the engineer at her side, while young Benson rides on the front seat. Clever little woman! She is going to make the young captain jealous! Well enough does she know how to do that!"
Not quite so well pleased was the young woman herself, as the drive proceeded. Though she did all in her power to charm Hal, and though she did succeed in interesting him, she could not draw the boy out into much conversation. Hal usually had little to say. Though he answered Mlle. Nadiboff courteously from time to time, he did not utter many words. Indeed, he appeared to be thinking of something far remote from the present scene.
"Are you bored, Mr. Hastings? Does the sound of my voice annoy you?" asked Mlle. Nadiboff, as the auto flew over the quiet country roads inland from Spruce Beach.
"Good gracious, no!" replied Hal.
"Then why do you say so little?"
"Because you say it so much better, Mademoiselle."
"But flattery will never take the place of interested conversation."
"Engineers don't talk much," protested Hal.
"So they think a great deal. Of what were you thinking?"
"Oh?" murmured Hal. "Oh, I was thinking of my engine, I guess."
Mlle. Nadiboff bit her lips in secret rage. If she had felt that she was doing poorly with Captain Jack Benson, evidently she was now seated beside an absent-minded sphinx.
"What place is that over there?" inquired Hal, coming out of a brown study as he felt some reproach in the stiffening attitude of his companion.
Hal's eye had been caught by what looked like the ruins of an old castle.Such sights are at least rare in the United States.
"That ruin, do you mean?" asked Mlle. Nadiboff. "Oh, it is a quaint bit of a castle, only some three hundred years old, though long past in ruins. I believe it was erected as a stronghold by some wealthy man, in the old days when the pirates from Havana now and then swept along the coast on their raids. Would you like to see the place, Mr. Hastings?"
"Very much indeed," Hal admitted, "if you have the time."
"The time?" Mlle. Nadiboff's laughter rippled out merrily. "Why, I have all the time in the world, Mr. Hastings. I live only to enjoy myself."
"That must be rather a dull existence, then," thought Hal, while his pretty companion leaned forward to give the order to the chauffeur, who turned up a road leading to the ruined castle of the old piratical days.
Jack had heard the conversation, and so knew, without asking, for what they were now heading.
As they drew closer they discovered other automobiles near the old castle.
"The place has several visitors to-day?" hinted Hal.
"Oh, yes; it is one of the show spots of this section," replied Mlle.Nadiboff. "It does well enough to look about there for a few minutes.But a ruin like that suggests death and decay, and I—I love life."
"Still, that castle is now a part of history," suggested Hal, "and history, it seems to me, should always be interesting."
"This stupid young engineer!" fumed Mlle. Nadiboff, to herself. "He would drive me wild, if I saw much of him. I think even my slow little captain will prove more romantic."
Though neither of the submarine boys could yet suspect it, they were soon to stumble into much more than relics of the past.
They were destined to find themselves exposed to one of the greatest surprises of their already eventful lives.
"Here we are," cried Mlle. Nadiboff, as the auto stopped near the north end of the castle. "May you discover something to interest you!"
The submarine boys certainly did!
There was not much left of the old castle, save the walls, and some badly crumbled ruins of inner buildings.
"The Florida climate doesn't seem to agree with castles," suggested Jack. "I have, an idea that, in Europe, a castle only three hundred years old would last much longer and keep much better."
"In Europe?" repeated Mlle. Nadiboff. "Oh, yes; much better. But then, perhaps in Europe there would be a feeling of veneration for the old that would lead the people to take much better care of their castles. It would be so in my country, I know."
"May I ask what is your country, Mademoiselle?" asked Jack, looking up and into her face.
"Guess, Mr. Yankee!"
"Why, I would guess that you are a Russian."
"You are worthy of the name of Yankee, then. Yes; I am a Russian."
Another party of sight-seers passed them at that moment, and one man was heard to remark:
"At the south end of the castle is a stairway leading down to an underground dungeon. Legend tells us that some forty Spanish pirates were once confined there, for a month, before permission was received from the governor to hang the Spaniards."
"Did you hear that?" murmured Jack, interestedly. "A real, old dungeon, with an interesting history."
"Such a history merely afflicts me with a shudder," replied Mlle.Nadiboff, shrugging her shoulders.
"By Jove, I believe I'd like to have just a glimpse of that old dungeon,Mademoiselle, if I am not tiring you or wasting your time."
"You will have to go alone, then," replied the young woman. "I will wait, my Captain."
"I will remain with Mlle. Nadiboff," volunteered Hal.
So Jack Benson, after raising his cap, stepped off rapidly toward the southern end of the old ruin.
With much difficulty he found the entrance to the stairway leading below. At the head of the stairs two youngish men were standing. The face of one of them looked familiar.
"How do you do, Captain?" nodded that one. "You don't recall me, I guess. I saw you, yesterday, only for a moment at the rail of the gunboat. My name is Hennessy, one of the newspaper men who visited your wonderful craft yesterday."
"I am glad to meet you again," Jack replied, "and sorry that we couldn't show you more."
"This is my friend, Mr. Graham," continued the newspaper man. "Graham is the Washington correspondent for my paper, so of course he has heard of your boats before."
"If you had been aboard," smiled Jack, "you might have seen something in the way of a little news happening."
"What was that?"
"Why, we found a new Japanese steward, whom we had engaged, absorbed in his study of some of our mechanisms. So we had to induce him to quit our service and go back to shore again."
"A spy, eh?" smiled Graham. "There are many of them about. Wherever there is anything connected with our national defense the spies of Europe are sure to flock, until they have learned all they want to know. And I suspect that they rarely fail, in the end. You were fortunate to catch your Japanese at his tricks at so early a stage in the game."
"I wish all these spies could be herded together and hanged!" mutteredCaptain Jack, in honest indignation.
"Do you?" asked Graham, looking at the boy, with a queer smile.
"Can you doubt it?" challenged Jack.
Graham was silent for a few moments, puffing at his cigar. Then, speaking very slowly, he went on:
"Captain Benson, I wonder if you would be much offended if I offered you some information that might prove of much value to you?"
"What makes you think, sir, I'm such a fool as that?" asked Jack, gazing at the Washington correspondent in great astonishment.
"One sometimes has to use a good deal of caution, even in offering well-intended information," replied the Washington correspondent, "Benson, I've been stationed at the national capital for eight years, now. I meet all kinds of people, and I see a good many others whom I don't get to know, and don't want to know, and yet I become familiar with their histories."
"I don't doubt that, sir," Jack assented. "The life of a Washington correspondent must be full of interesting things and experiences."
"Washington itself is full of foreign spies," pursued Graham, studying the ash on the end of his cigar. "After a newspaper man has been in Washington a while he begins to have people pointed out to him who are either known or believed to be in the employ of foreign governments for the purpose of getting information that our national authorities would much rather conceal."
"That must be true," agreed Benson. "And I suppose there are some very clever men engaged in that peculiar line of business."
"Some of the smartest of them are not men, but women," continued Mr. Graham. "Men, perhaps, direct them, but the women spies, when they are young and good-looking, can usually coax a lot of information."
"Oho! I'd like to get a look, some time, at one of these clever women spies," declared Jack, much interested.
"That's just what I'm coming to," pursued the Washington correspondent. "I hope you won't be offended, Benson, but I understand you have already paid some attention to one of the brightest women in this line."
"Mlle. Nadiboff?" cried Jack, guessing instantly what the other sought to convey.
"Yes," nodded Graham. "Though I believe, when I first saw her, eight years ago, she was using some other name than Nadiboff."
"Eight years ago," smiled Jack, "she must have been about thirteen years old. Do they employ, spies at such a tender age?"
"Eight years ago," retorted Graham, "this young woman was, I should say, about twenty-one years old. I am aware that she looks hardly older to-day. When I saw you with her ten minutes ago it was the first hint I had that she was in Florida."
"So she's a spy?" muttered Jack Benson, speaking more to himself. "Then I can understand why she seemed so anxious to interest me. I was not wrong about that."
"No," laughed Graham. "Beyond a doubt the young woman is very anxious to please you, and to keep your interest. You happen to command a type of submarine torpedo boat in which all the world is at present much interested. By the way, I wonder if Mlle. Nadiboff, as you call her, works under the directions of the same chief? He was a man—"
Here the Washington correspondent gave a description that caused JackBenson to exclaim:
"Why, that's M. Lemaire, to a dot!"
"I guess there's no doubt about it, then," laughed Mr. Graham. "You've fallen into the hands of a pair of the boldest, wickedest and cleverest of foreign spies."
"I thank you heartily for informing me about them," breathed Jack Benson, his eyes gleaming as he thought of the pair. "But there's one thing that puzzles me. Mlle. Nadiboff is a Russian, and M. Lemaire must be a Frenchman. Then which country owns that precious pair?"
"Spies rarely have any country," smiled the washington correspondent. "They work for whichever government will pay them best. Today they will sell out their employers of yesterday."
"They're a noble lot, then," grunted Jack, disgustedly.
Mr. Hennessy proposed that they go down to have a look at the dungeon underground. While they were examining that damp, slimy old cell, the conversation continued.
"Has either of that pair seen you, Mr. Graham?" asked Jack.
"I don't believe it. I'm not stopping at the Hotel Clayton."
"Then neither of them will suspect that I've been posted," mutteredBenson, with a short laugh.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I rather think," smiled the young submarine captain, "that I may attempt to pay that pair back in their own coin—somehow. By the way, do either of them know you well when they see you?"
"They might remember me as a newspaper writer," replied Graham. "SoI'll keep out of the way."
"It won't be necessary for me to keep out of the way," added Hennessy. "I don't know either Mlle. Nadiboff or her companion; and, besides, I'm here openly as a reporter interested in the submarine craft."
By this time the three had returned to the upper air.
"I'll vanish, now," proposed Mr. Graham. "But you, Hennessy, if Captain Benson doesn't mind, might as well go along with him. You may get a good look at the Nadiboff woman. You, too, may think her very young. She has a knack of keeping so. Yet she's at least twenty-eight or thirty. Good-bye, for the present!"
Graham turned, losing himself from their sight amid the ruins. Hennessy walked with Jack back to where Hal and the woman awaited them.
Jack's mind was rapidly revolving plans for teaching some one a lesson that would not be forgotten.
"This is Mr. Hennessy, one of the newspaper men who visited our boat yesterday afternoon," said Jack, on rejoining his companions. "Mr. Hennessy has been returning good for evil. While I am unable to tell him any of the things he wants most to know about our boat, he, on the other hand, has been telling me much of interest about these ruins."
"There are a lot of legends about this old wreck of a castle," laughed Hennessy. "Most of them are too silly to consider for a moment. One of the old stories has to do with a secret passage. Some of the guides hereabouts show what they solemnly explain was one of the outlets of the secret passage in bygone days. Do you care to devote five minutes to looking at the ridiculous thing?"
Mlle. Nadiboff smilingly accepted the suggestion, so Hal and Jack also agreed. The reporter led the way across a field, pausing at last before a fringe of weeds and low bushes.
"Now, just step through this wild hedge," Hennessy proposed, smilingly, "and you'll see how little it takes to start a yarn. Look out, though, that you don't fall down."
As they stepped through the fringe cautiously the members of the party found themselves peering down the shaft of what appeared to be a very ordinary well. It was circular, in shape, and had been laid, on the inside, with a masonry of stones.
"There is water at the bottom, isn't there?" inquired the woman Spy.
"Yes," replied Hennessy. "It was never anything more than a well. Yet, day before yesterday, one of the local guides brought me here and insisted on telling me all about its having been an outlet of a famous secret passage from the castle. I had some fishing tackle in my pocket, so I rigged up a line and weight, and let it down. I satisfied myself that there were about four feet of greenish, slimy water at the bottom of a well. I wish you could have seen the guide's face!"
"Here come some visitors, now," nudged Hal.
Two men and four women, led by a guide, approached the place.
"This shaft looks dark and mysterious enough," began the guide, reeling off a well learned lesson, "to be as full of historic interest and mystery as it really is. This shaft is what is left of one of the outlets of the famous secret passage to and from the castle."
While the new visitors crowded about, asking questions and offering remarks, the party that Hennessy was guiding stepped into the background, secretly enjoying the guide's buncombe.
"If people would only stop to use their good sense a bit," whispered Hennessy, "they'd know, at once, that the shaft is only a long disused well."
"Great Scott!" whispered Jack. "Here come Mr. Farnum and Eph with a guide. Let's see if they will be buncoed."
Guide number two came up, with the shipbuilder and Somers in tow. Greetings were exchanged. Then the last arrived pair stepped forward in the guide's wake. Farnum listened with an amused smile.
"Oh, pshaw!" grunted Eph. "Is this the best you can show us? This is nothing but an old well, with ten feet of malaria at the bottom. Show us, for a change, something that we can believe."
Hal began to laugh quietly. Then all hands stepped forward for another look down the shaft. As they stepped outside again Benson happened to turn just in time to see a familiar figure coming along a path near by.
It was Kamanako, better dressed than he had been earlier in the morning, and carrying a bulging dress suitcase.
"Hullo!" muttered Jack Benson, in a tone loud enough to carry to the ears of the newcomer. "There's that infernal Jap spy—that scoundrelly thief of other men's secrets!"
Kamanako halted as abruptly as though he had been challenged by a sentry. As he saw the young captain a dark, red flush crept into the cheeks of the little, brown man.
"You talk much," sneered the Japanese his anger rising.
"I say what I think about spies and fellows who would steal other men's secrets," retorted the young submarine captain.
"You will hold tongue better, if you please," snapped Kamanako.
"I? Hold my tongue for any scamp like you?" taunted Jack Benson.
The taunt had the effect for which Jack wished. Kamanako, looking furious, dropped his dress suit case and ran angrily forward.
Just in time, as the Japanese bounded through the fringe of weeds,Captain Jack dodged adroitly to one side.
So Kamanako plunged past him—and, the next instant, there came a smothered yell from the inside of the well shaft.
"Oh, that was a shame!" came indignantly, from one of the women in the party of strangers.
But Jack, paying no heed to her, had stepped back to the edge of the well shaft. Dimly, down at the bottom, he could make out Kamanako, standing in slimy water that reached nearly up to his arm-pits.
"Is the water fine, eh?" Jack called down, laughingly.
"I show you—some time!" came the answer, in smothered rage.
"You showed me Japanese jiu-jitsu," mocked Benson "so I had to do something to return your courtesy. What I have just shown you is called—American strategy!"
By now Kamanako had succeeded in pulling himself part way out of the water, using his hands and feet on projecting bits of the old masonry.
"You'll get out, in time, for you're a patient fellow," Jack called down, in a tantalizing kind of encouragement. "Don't forget the name that I have just given you—American strategy. And, the next time a fellow tries to make you mad, don't let him do it until you've looked the ground over. American strategy—yes, that's the name."
Laughing, as he straightened up, Jack turned away from the shaft
"And aren't you going to throw him down a rope, or do something to help the poor fellow out?" demanded the same indignant woman.
"Not in view of his line of offense, madame," Benson replied, raising his cap.
"Offense? What did he do?"
To the whole party Jack explained how Kamanako, that same morning, had been caught spying upon the controlling mechanisms of the submarine boat. All the young skipper's hearers were satisfied, then, to leave the Japanese there to work his own way out, since no one feels any sorrow over the punishment of a spy.
"Gunpowder and doughnuts! But you did get square," chuckled Eph, as the submarine party turned back to the automobiles.
"So that Japanese was a spy, you said?" murmured Mlle. Nadiboff, in a low tone, as they walked along.
"Yes, beyond a doubt," Jack assured her.
"It must seem strange to be a spy," murmured the young woman. "It must give one a strange feeling."
"Yes, and a mighty mean feeling," agreed Jack, coolly.
As he spoke he raised his eyes carelessly to her face. He did not make the glance so significant as to betray his real thoughts.
Mlle. Nadiboff did not flinch nor change color under that brief scrutiny.Instead, she appeared to be almost lost in thought as she walked along.
Suddenly she clutched at the young captain's arm.
"I wonder if you would do something very great, to please me?" she murmured, questioningly.
"I'd certainly like to have you try me," responded Jack Benson, in an equally low tone. He spoke the truth, too, for he believed that this charming but dangerous companion was scheming some sudden move in her plans as, a spy. He wanted to find out what that move would be. Above all, if it were possible, he wanted to get knowledge of which foreign country she represented.
"Won't you contrive to drive alone with me in my car, when we reach it?" she whispered, coaxingly.
"And leave your chauffeur behind, also?" asked Jack, smiling.
"That will not be necessary. I do not mind him. But I have much that I wish to say to you, my Captain. As for your friend—pardon me, but he is dull, and—"
"Quiet, I think you mean, Mademoiselle," interposed Jack. "Hal's worst enemy, if he had one, would hardly call him dull."
"Anyway, my Captain," murmured the young woman, "he does not interest me, and I do want a few words with you."
"This charming young spy," muttered Benson quickly, to himself, "is beginning to feel that I'm not enough interested to be coaxed away from my duty by flatteries. I take it she means to show her real hand, and try to play it in earnest. If that's the case, I want to know what she is going to say."
Aloud he replied:
"It will be easy enough to send my friend away with the others, Mademoiselle. When we reach the automobile all I shall have to do will be to look straight at him."
"Ah! You have a code of signals—you two?" Mlle. Nadiboff laughed, delightedly.
"A code?" repeated Jack. "No; we have never needed one. But my chum is an unusually bright and quick young man."
Seeing Jack and the young Russian woman so interested in their talk, the others had gradually strolled away from them.
Hennessy had already succeeded in securing an invitation to return toSpruce Beach in Mr. Farnum's hired auto.
Hal Hastings presently turned, as though to step over to Mlle. Nadiboff's car, but he caught a swift look from Jack, and turned back. Hal had not yet heard of the grave suspicion against the young woman, and could not guess what this move of his chum's meant. Hastings, however, was swift to take the hint.
"You have not overstated your friend's intelligence," murmured the youngRussian gleefully. "At a short look from you he retreats."
"Oh, Hal and I always understand each other," smiled Jack.
"That is very interesting. And yet I do not like Mr. Hastings as I like you," replied the young woman.
She looked at him with a friendly, little flash in her eyes. Had Jack been a few years older, and not warned, he might have been snared by this experienced flirt. As it was, he did not take the trouble to answer her last little speech.
Just before they stepped into the car Mlle. Nadiboff uttered a few quick words, in some foreign tongue, to her man at the steering wheel. The auto sped away. Jack noted only, at first, that they were now going further from Spruce Beach. The road down which they drove, however, was a beautiful one, and the submarine boy did not much mind where they went, provided he could find out how Mlle. Nadiboff meant to make the approach against his loyalty to the submarine company.
"Do you know, my Captain, that you are hardly a flattering escort?" began Mlle. Nadiboff, after they had whirled along for a mile or more.
"Why not?" Jack inquired, bluntly.
"Have you noticed how I seem to please most men?"
"I saw that several were very anxious dance with you last evening, and that, whenever you were seated, men flocked about your chair."
"Why do you suppose they did that?" challenged Mlle. Nadiboff.
"Because you are a very handsome woman, and the men admired you," Benson answered, plainly.
"Ah! Then you think I am handsome?"
"I haven't a doubt of it," Jack answered.
"Do you admire me?"
The challenge came plain and direct. Mlle. Nadiboff now gazed searchingly into the submarine boy's eyes.
"I—I think you a very handsome woman to look at," Captain Jack admitted, readily.
"Is that all you have to say?"
"I—I am afraid I do not understand you, Mademoiselle."
"You have no desire to be especially gallant to me? It would cause you no jealousy if you, saw that I preferred the company of other men?"
Jack Benson returned her glance, almost in, bewilderment for a moment. Then he leaned back, trying to stifle the impulse to laugh, but he did not wholly succeed.
"You are amused?" cried the young Russian, half angry.
"Amused—yes, at the idea of my falling in love, if that was what you meant to suggest," replied Jack, again speaking very candidly.
"And why should that amuse you, my Captain?"
"Why, do you know how old I am, Mlle. Nadiboff? Or rather, how young? I am only sixteen. At my age, if I formed any notion of being in love, it would be sensible to have me spanked and put on a short diet for a few days."
He laughed merrily, now, and Mlle. Nadiboff turned away her head to conceal the tears of vexation that started to her eyes.
"Bah!" she thought to herself. "I have been wasting time—at Lemaire's orders. The only way to induce this boy to betray his trust will be by offering him presents of marbles, tops, kites—bah!Bah!"
Mlle. Nadiboff settled back in her seat, looking straight ahead, her attitude as frigid as could be. For some moments she did not attempt to speak. When she did open her lips she said, icily:
"I find that I have been wasting my time."
"Wasting your time, Mademoiselle?" echoed Jack Benson, coolly, for he was much more fully alive to the situation, thanks to Mr Graham, than she had any chance to know. "May I ask what you have been trying to do?"
The question made the young woman bite her lip. Mlle. Nadiboff had been a spy quite as long as Mr. Graham had stated. As she looked back over the years she was able to recall man after man whom she had flattered and lured by the witchery of her eyes. Secret after secret she had coaxed from men entrusted with guarding such mysteries. The rewards of the work had kept M. Lemaire and herself both bountifully supplied with money by the foreign governments that they had served as spies. Most men whom she had tried to win into her service the young Russian woman had found easy enough victims. But now, here was a sixteen-year-old boy laughing at her attempts at "cleverness."
"I was wrong to think Jack Benson a fool," she said to herself, angrily. "He is far more clever than the men I have met. I can do nothing with him. I must turn him over to Lemaire—to see if that prince of spies, as he has often been called, can find the flaw in this submarine boy's armor."
With that Mlle. Nadiboff leaned forward, murmuring a few words to the chauffeur, who nodded slightly. Then the young woman leaned back, turning a smiling, friendly but no longer coaxing face to Jack Benson.
"If I have amused you," she smiled, "I am glad. We will say that much and forget the rest, eh, Captain Benson."
"I am glad to agree to anything that will please you," responded the boy, gravely.
Mlle. Nadiboff shot a covert look at his face, then decided to say nothing. She began to have a suspicion that this sixteen-year-old boy was far more clever than she, despite all her years of strange experiences.
A mile further along the automobile branched off the main road, running down a shaded lane at much reduced speed.
"What is this—some short cut back to the beach?" asked Jack, trying to conceal his astonishment.
"Yes," replied the young Russian, falsely.
Soon the big car stopped. The chauffeur thrust a whistle between his lips, blowing a trilling blast.
Jack Benson changed color somewhat. This sounded suspicious—a signal in the woods. It was doubly suspicious after the hints that Mr. Graham had given the young submarine captain.
"Do not jump—do not be afraid," laughed Mlle. Nadiboff, rather maliciously. "Nothing in the way of danger threatens."
Almost immediately the chug-chug of another auto was heard, just ahead up the narrow road. Then into sight glided a small runabout, which sat M. Lemaire, all by himself. That Frenchman stopped his car, next waving one hand gayly to those in the larger car.
Then, lifting his hat most courteously to the young woman, M. Lemaire stepped over to the other car. The Russian woman spoke in some tongue, the like of which Benson had never heard before. It was Arabic, a language that both of these spies understood perfectly. What she said was:
"The boy is yours. Do what you can with him. I admit that I have failed. I have no hope of being able to do anything with him."
M. Lemaire's eyebrows contracted briefly, in a slight frown. Then, forcing a pleasant look to his face, the Frenchman asked, in a tone easy enough with courtesy:
"Captain Benson, will you step out and talk with me a few moments? I have much to say."
"I can listen," nodded Jack, looking steadily, shrewdly into the eyes of this male spy. "At the same time, sir, this whole proceeding, meeting, request and all are so unusual that I think you cannot do better than to give me a frank explanation of what this all means."
"Means?" murmured the Frenchman, as though not comprehending.