In the nineteenth century, when a vessel left port, her destination unknown, that craft might get away from a pursuing squadron scattered over the seas.
At best, knowledge of a marine fugitive's whereabouts could be gained only from the masters of other vessels that had sighted the fugitive. Usually, such information must be delayed until the informing master of the sighting ship reached port.
In the twentieth century all is greatly changed.
A vessel bound for parts unknown, carrying some fugitive from justice, is sighted by some steamship that is equipped with a wireless telegraph outfit. Hours before, perhaps, the master of the steamship has been asked to keep a weather-eye open for a vessel that answers the name or description of the runaway craft. Now, she is sighted by the master of the steamship. Ten minutes later the authorities on shore know the exact whereabouts of the fleeing craft. Should she change her course wholly, her new whereabouts is soon after reported to land by the master of some other wireless equipped steamship.
Once upon a time the task of finding and overtaking a runaway vessel at sea presented innumerable difficulties. Nowadays, it is often necessary only that the pursuing craft possess sufficiently greater speed to overtake the easily located fugitive.
As the "Sudbury" turned out into the open sea that little gunboat was in instant communication with Washington, and also with any wireless equipped ocean traveler up to nearly half way across the great Atlantic.
At three o'clock the Navy Department at Washington reported to a gunboat out of sight of land that the last sighting of the supposed "Juanita" placed her on the same course as hitherto reported.
At four o'clock came word that the Navy Department had had no new report as to the schooner by wireless.
At five o'clock another wireless despatch was flashed through the air.Lieutenant Jack Benson, reading, discovered that the "Juanita" hadagain been sighted on the same course, headed for some port in theBritish West Indies.
At 5:20 Ensign Eph Somers, port watch officer of the "Sudbury," sent a marine orderly to report to Lieutenant Benson that a schooner's topmasts were within sight.
Benson hurried to the bridge, but found Ensign Fullerton there just ahead of him.
"We'll shape our course in straight pursuit of the schooner, Mr.Fullerton," decided Lieutenant Jack.
"Very good, sir."
As yet the schooner's topmasts were visible only from the military top. After a few minutes had passed, however, the vessel's masts were visible from the bridge.
"Does her rig look like that of the 'Juanita,' Mr. Somers?" questioned young Benson.
"I can't say, sir," Eph replied. "I didn't see her, at Cobtown, under sail. I shall have to wait until I can make out the hull, sir, before I can make even a good guess."
Smoke was pouring heavily from the "Sudbury's" two funnels by this time, for the gunboat was being pushed, under forced draught, to considerably better than twenty knots an hour. The schooner apparently was making between seven and eight knots an hour.
In a few minutes more the hull of the stranger began to show. Eph, with a pair of marine glasses to his eyes, studied the stranger long and carefully. Lieutenant Benson, knowing it would be folly to hasten his comrade's judgment, waited in silent patience.
"That craft looks very much like the 'Juanita,' sir," ventured Eph, at last. "In fact, sir, I think that's our schooner."
"Steer up to windward of her, then, Mr. Somers," Jack directed. "Mr. Fullerton, give orders to have the port bow gun manned. When the order is given, be prepared to fire a blank shot toward the schooner. If, after one minute, the schooner shows no signs of heaving to, then fire a solid shot across her bows."
"Very good, sir."
Without leaving the bridge Ensign Fullerton passed the word for the manning of the gun and loading with a blank cartridge.
There was a new, deeper glow in Eph Somers's eyes as he paced the bridge. He was to have, at last, his wish to see the "Sudbury" fire a shot.
In a few minutes more the "Sudbury" was ranging tip alongside the schooner, though a full quarter of a mile away to windward.
"Mr. Fullerton, fire the blank shot at the stranger," ordered LieutenantJack Benson.
"Aye, aye, sir."
The order was carried by a simple wave of the executive officer's hand. The petty officer in command behind the bow gun, looking for the signal, saw it and gave a low-toned order.
Bang!Eph was watching for it. His eyes danced as he heard the sharp explosion and saw the cloud of white smoke, with the tongue of fire spitting through the center of it. In most of us there is left some of the spirit of the old Norse pirate; Eph had a lot of it.
"The people on the schooner act as though they were bewildered," smiled Jack, watching the schooner through his glass. "It doesn't look as though they expected any such order from us. I wonder if they mean to obey?"
"Worse for them, if they don't," replied Ensign Fullerton, grimly. "A solid shot across the bows, and a shot through their rigging after that. What schooner has any chance to defy a ship of war?"
"There they go around," cried Jack, barely above his breath, "They'll heave to."
"Of course," smiled Fullerton. "Your orders, sir?"
"Lower the power launch. Send a corporal and four marines, and six sailors, armed, beside the boat-handlers. Mr. Somers will take command, as he's the only one of us who knows the fellow Gray by sight."
Ensign Fullerton accordingly transmitted the orders, also ordering Midshipman Drake up to the bridge to serve as watch officer in Eph's absence. Hal Hastings was asleep in his cabin at the time.
In the meantime the schooner continued "hove to," several men lining her starboard rail.
"Somehow, Mr. Fullerton," muttered Lieutenant Jack, after Eph had departed in the power launch with his boarding crew, "I'm not much inclined to think that's our schooner."
"Somers seemed to think so."
"Mr. Somers said it looked like the 'Juanita.' He's too careful to commit himself to more than that."
"We shall soon know, sir, anyway."
It is probable that Eph was disappointed that the schooner had been stopped by anything less than a round shot through her rigging. Yet, as he stood up in the stern of the launch, as it bounded over the waves, he felt a heap of satisfaction in the thought that he commanded the searching party, and that he did so by virtue of being an officer in the United States Navy. And this, too, was a form of duty in which Ensign Somers wore his sword at his side.
"I hope they're preparing a surprise for us," chuckled Eph, as he looked about him at his armed crew. "I hope the schooner's people will try some mean trick for us, or attempt to put up a fight. Whee!"
Yet none of these aggressive thoughts showed in the young Ensign's face. Eph knew his place, usually, and the amount of dignity that went with any place.
"Make fast alongside!" Eph sang out, as the launch rounded in alongside the schooner.
"What's wrong with the United States Navy, Midshipman?" came the jovial question from a bronzed, broad-shouldered, bearded man of fifty who appeared at the quarter rail, offering Eph a hand to aid him on board.
But Eph, disdaining the proffered hand, seized the rail, vaulting neatly on board. Then he straightened up.
"I am Ensign Somers, from the gunboat 'Sudbury.'"
"Ensign, eh?" muttered the schooner's master, looking in some bewilderment at Eph's boyish face. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Somers."
"What craft is this, sir?" Eph continued.
"Schooner 'Varia,' from New York, bound for Jamaica."
"We saw 'Varia' painted on your stern, of course," smiled Eph. "But was that name painted there during the night?"
"Sir?" demanded the skipper, in some astonishment. "Oh, I see, Ensign. Your commander thinks we may be sailing under false colors. Will you be kind enough to step down into my cabin?"
Here an elderly man, in yachting dress, stepped forward out of a group of sailors at the waist of the craft.
"This schooner is chartered to convey—" he began, but Eph interposed, politely:
"Pardon me, sir, but I am talking with the captain only."
Then, turning toward the launch, Ensign Somers called:
"Corporal, board with your marines, and wait further orders."
Then Eph followed the captain below.
"The gentleman who spoke to you," explained Varia's master, "is Dr. Herman Barnard. He chartered the 'Varia' at New York for a West Indian cruise for himself and his family. Here are my papers, as master. Here is the 'Varia's' license to carry passengers, and here are our clearance papers, from New York to Jamaica."
The papers were all in regular order. Eph looked them over, noting that the master's name was Walford.
"I don't see anything wrong here, Captain Walford," Eph continued."Where is your list of passengers?"
"Here, sir."
Eph glanced over the list, noting that besides Dr. Barnard, there were five other men passengers, besides Mrs. Barnard, her two daughters and one other woman.
"I shall have to ask you, Captain, to line your passengers up on deck,"Eph continued.
"I had hoped to escape that annoyance, sir," protested the schooner's master. "The ladies were alarmed, and took to their staterooms."
"I am very sorry, Captain," Eph insisted, "but I must look over the passengers."
"Very good, then," sighed Captain Walford.
"And muster the crew forward. I must see on deck every person on this craft."
"Very good, sir."
Eph returned to deck, leaning against the starboard rail of the quarter deck. Below, he heard some sounds of remonstrance in feminine voices. Then, as a step sounded on the after companionway, and Eph straightened up, he heard a woman's voice say:
"United States Navy? I would call this a good deal more like piracy!"
"But, mamma—"
"Hush, child!"
Mrs. Barnard, when she stepped on deck, looked as severe as her husband appeared mild.
Ensign Eph doffed his cap quickly to the ladies.
"I know this does not please you," he said, courteously, "but I will ask you to remember that I am acting under orders, and have no choice."
"It is outrageous to stop a pleasure craft in this fashion!" declaredMrs. Barnard, haughtily.
"Do you know why we are making this search, madam?" asked Eph, sweetly.
"Of course I don't," snapped the good lady.
"Then I marvel," replied Eph, with another bow, "that you can have an opinion of something that you don't understand."
One of the girls was so undutiful as to snigger. Thereupon, one of the young men joined in the laugh, which became so general that the severe expression on Mrs. Barnard's face softened considerably.
"Perhaps I owe you an apology, young man, for having spoken as I did of you," admitted the good lady.
"You only called us pirates," smiled Eph. "That wasn't much."
"Perhaps I said more than I should have said, young man," admitted Mrs.Barnard.
"Mamma, wouldn't it be better to address this officer by his title?" asked the elder of the girls. Then, turning to Eph, the same speaker inquired:
"May I ask your title? Are you a captain?"
"Only an ensign, miss," Eph replied, "and only an acting ensign at that."
While this brief conversation had been going on, the cook, stewards and watch below were being routed out. Now Captain Walford came aft to report:
"All hands on board, sir, have been turned out for your inspection."
"All?" insisted Eph.
"All, sir."
"Then, Captain Walford, I am going to do something that may appear very extreme, but I regret to say that I can't help it. I must search this craft. If I allowed one for whom we are seeking to slip through our fingers it would bring a lot of blame down about my head."
Eph now stepped back to the rail, ordering six of the sailors on board. To them he gave his orders. The party spread, going below. Eph, excusing himself to the ladies, went with the sailors.
No more thorough search could have been made. Every nook and cranny of the schooner was searched, but at last Eph was obliged to admit that the man he sought was not aboard.
"My apologies to everyone for all trouble caused," declared Ensign Somers. "I trust you will find it easy to believe that I have only been following my orders; and, therefore, doing my duty."
"You couldn't have done less, Ensign," replied Dr. Barnard, courteously."You couldn't have been more courteous."
"Are we at liberty to proceed on our way, sir?" asked Captain Walford, as the young acting ensign went over the side.
"I shall have to ask you to take the signal for that from the 'Sudbury,'"Eph answered.
On the gunboat's quarter deck, following Ensign Somers's report, there was an anxious conference.
"If this is the craft we've been following all the time," mutteredJack Benson, "we've a lot of hunting yet ahead of us."
"Shall I signal the schooner permission to proceed, sir?" asked EnsignFullerton.
"By all means."
Darkness came down over the ocean while Lieutenant Jack was sending a wireless despatch through the air to the Navy Department.
Three hours later, under a new order from Washington, the gunboat's launch stole in alongside of a second schooner that had been pursued, overhauled and brought to a standstill.
This craft, however, proved to be a Nova Scotian vessel, with papers all right, a cargo beyond suspicion and no sign of the fugitive Gray aboard.
When news of this second failure had been flashed to Washington, and twenty minutes more had passed, the instructions came back out of the ether:
"Cruise slowly about where you are. Await new instructions, which will go forward to you as soon as we have fresh, reliable information from any source. See that your own search light is freely used through the night."
"'Puss in the Corner,' at sea," muttered Lieutenant Benson. "And we ain't even find a corner."
An hour later the young commander of the "Sudbury" turned in. Hal was on the bridge.
The gunboat cruised along lazily at about eight knots an hour. For some time Hal paced the bridge indolently, while the sailor lookout, forward, manipulated the searchlight, sending its beam in wide circles over the waters.
It was within half an hour of the time of calling the new watch, in fact, when the bow watch reported:
"Sail dead ahead, sir!"
Barely more than a topsail could be made out, even through the marine glass of the young watch officer.
"Hold the light on her; we'll overtake and examine her, anyway," was Ensign Hastings's quick decision. From the bridge he gave orders for the engine room to go ahead with increased speed. While the gunboat was bounding off after the stranger, time came to call the port watch. Eph Somers came up to the bridge, somewhat sleepy.
"Same old story, I guess," yawned Eph. "Have you passed the word to the executive office?"
"Not yet," Hal replied. "I didn't believe it worth while to break the slumber of Mr. Fullerton, or of the commander, until we got close to see whether the stranger looks in the least like the 'Juanita.'"
"I don't believe the 'Juanita' is anywhere on this wide ocean," mutteredEph, stifling a yawn.
"It doesn't look that way," smiled Hastings.
Down before the wheelhouse a bell began to sound briskly.
"Eight bells; your watch, Mr. Somers," announced Hastings. "But I am going to remain on the bridge with you for a while. I want a look at that mud-hooker over yonder."
Within fifteen minutes more the gunboat was running fairly close, though off to starboard.
"That doesn't look even a little bit like the 'Juanita,'" mutteredEnsign Eph, disgustedly. "Why, she's longer than the Cobtown schooner.Besides, the 'Juanita' is a two-sticker, while that hooker yonder hasa third mast with a yawl-rig leg-o'-mutton sail."
Hal said nothing, but continued to study the stranger through his night-glass.
"She is a queer-looking hooker," muttered Hastings. "Say, Eph, somehow that boat doesn't look as though she was built to fit her own rig."
"Why not!" demanded Eph.
"Well, look at her length. Then take a peep at the height of her dory-mast. Does it look tall enough for the length of the schooner?"
"I hadn't thought of that," admitted Somers, also taking a careful look through the nightglass. "Jove, Hal, she is an odd-looking piece of hulk."
Eph turned to pass the order to run in still closer to the schooner.
"What's wrong with her stern-hull?" asked Ensign Somers, three or four minutes later.
"Looks like a patchwork affair," declared Hal, more interested than ever.
"Has she a built-on stern?" demanded Somers, half a minute later.
"By Jove, I half believe she has. Eph, without that stern and the yawl mast, would you say the craft looks like the 'Juanita'?"
"I believe she would," muttered young Somers, excitedly. "Marine orderly!"
A sea-soldier came quickly up the bridge stairs, saluting.
"Mr. Somers's compliments to Mr. Fullerton, and will the executive officer come to the bridge?"
Again saluting the marine vanished aft. It doesn't take a naval officer long to report, even when he has to rouse himself out of a sound sleep to do it.
Ensign Fullerton reached the bridge rubbing his eyes, but he listened intently to what the two younger ensigns had to say.
"Marine orderly!" called the executive officer. "Mr. Fullerton's compliments to the commanding officer, and will he come to the bridge?"
Barely a minute later, Jack Benson stood on the bridge, listening to his subordinate officers and staring across the gap of water at the unknown craft.
"Mr. Fullerton," directed the young commander, "prepare to fire a signal shot and to lower the power launch. Make up the boarding party as usual. Mr. Somers, you will go in command of the launch. And I will accompany you this time. Mr. Fullerton, when I leave the bridge, you will assume command."
Both officers, as they received their orders, saluted.
Bang! The signal gun barked out, the flash from the muzzle sending a long tongue of red through the darkness.
But the stranger continued on her way through the night. Ensign Fullerton regarded the young commanding officer of the gunboat expectantly.
"Put a solid shot across her bows, Mr. Fullerton."
Again the order was transmitted, with little noise. The gun-crew then awaited the signal from the executive officer.
Bang! This time the solid shot struck the water a bare fifty feet ahead of the strange craft's bows as she forged on through the waves, her bow stirring up a gleaming white foam.
"That ought to stop her!" muttered Lieutenant Jack Benson, impatiently.
"I don't believe it is going to, though, sir," reported Ensign Fullerton, studying the other vessel through his night-glass. "I don't see a sign of motion on the stranger's decks."
"Load again with solid shot, then," directed the gunboat's young commander. "This time hit her square in the fore-rigging."
"I'll step below and sight the piece myself," replied Ensign Fullerton.
A few moments later the executive officer reported the port bow gun in readiness for service.
"Fire whenever you are ready, Mr. Fullerton," called Lieutenant Jack, in a low voice.
Bang! barked the bow gun, a moment later. Over aboard the stranger there was a crash, a tearing sound, and then her foretopmast toppled, hanging loosely in place by the stays.
"That'll stop her, I reckon." chuckled Jack Benson.
And "stop her" it did. There was no choice but to stop. This gunboat of the United States Navy was in a position to shoot every standing stick out of the schooner, if provoked too far, and the legal right to go to such lengths existed.
"Stranger is heaving to, sir," reported Ensign Somers.
"Very good, Mr. Somers. Order the power launch lowered. Put off as quickly as possible."
"Very good, sir."
Ensign Fullerton hastened back to the bridge, to assume command, whileHal hastings stood by him.
Boat-handlers and armed sailors and marines scampered over the side. Down the gangway followed Jack and Eph, looking very stately as they held their swords clear of their legs. Busily the launch chugged across the intervening water gap.
"Schooner, ahoy!" hailed Eph, as the launch ran in alongside "What craft is that?"
"Schooner 'Malta,' Cooper, master, from Sidney, N.S.," came the reply of a man at the after rail.
"Seems to me I've seen you before, in Cobtown!" suddenly exclaimed EphSomers, as he leaped over the rail in advance of his marines.
"C-Cob—town?" demanded the schooner's master, falteringly.
"By the great Constitution! We've caught the 'Juanita' in disguise!" bellowed back Ensign Eph, turning to Jack Benson, who was just boarding. "See! There's the false stern structure."
"You're making a huge mistake of some sort, gentlemen!" protested the vessel's master, tremulously.
"Marines, lay aboard," thundered Eph. "Take the deck, Corporal. Round up all the crew you see, and make 'em stand at attention along one of the seams of the deck! Sailors aboard, you down any man who tries to block or balk you. Lively, now! I've seen this master in Cobtown, and I'll take my oath this is the 'Juanita' with a pieced-out, false stern and a faked third mast!"
"We hold you responsible for the deck, Corporal," spoke Jack, in a low tone to the noncommissioned officer of marines. "We're going to take the sailors and go below."
A rush was made for the companionway leading down into the schooner's cabin. A man's white, scared face showed below, for a moment.
"Hurrah!" yelled Eph Somers, drawing his sword and making a bound below "There's Brother Gray. Oh, we've the right boat—and the right crowd, too!"
Bang!
A stateroom door closed just before the two young officers reached it.
Click! That told the story of a bolt shot into place.
"You may as well open!" called Jack, coolly. "We have ample force for breaking down that door!"
Crack! In that confined space the discharge of a pistol sounded almost deafening. A line of red shot through the stateroom door. The bullet from the weapon whizzed between Jack Benson and Eph Somers, the missile burying itself in wood across the passage.
Crack! Crack!
With that desperate fellow the other side of the door, shooting through the key-hole, it was worse than folly to remain in line of range.
Yet Jack and Eph retorted coolly, with the dignity of officers.
"My man," requested Lieutenant Jack, turning to one of the sailors, "hand me your revolver."
Taking the weapon, Benson glanced at it a second or two, then raised the weapon, sighting for the top of the stateroom door.
Bang! The shot that Jack fired sent a bullet crashing through the door close to the upper framework.
"You see, Gray!" Jack called coolly, "we're armed, too, and in overpowering numbers. Resistance is worse than foolish."
Bang! came the hostile answer.
This shot was fired through one of the panels of the stateroom door—fired at an angle, too.
Plainly the shot was intended to hit the young naval lieutenant. It passed Benson's right side by a margin of barely two inches.
"Pass me another revolver," whispered Benson, in the stillness that followed.
All through the day and evening these seamen, though outwardly respectful, and wholly well disciplined, had cherished a great deal of amusement over their boyish officers.
Now, however, these bronzed men of the deep beheld Benson and Somers at work in a manner worthy of any product of Annapolis.
The second revolver was handed to Jack.
"I want to be in this, too," muttered Ensign Eph, and held back his hand for weapons.
"Are you going to surrender, Gray, and open that door?" demandedLieutenant Jack.
"Never—to you," came the ugly defiance.
Bang! Again Gray fired, straight in the direction of the voice the bullet, crashing through a panel of the door, fanned Jack's left ear so that he felt the breeze.
"Open up on him, Mr. Somers," directed Benson. "Slowly. Fire high, and fire low. Try to get him somehow."
Two more shots came from the other side of the locked door.
Then pop-pop-pop! began the fusilade from outside, Jack and Eph firing with either hand as they sighted their weapons for new spots.
R-r-rip! crash! A long enough bombardment of this sort was certain to reduce the panels to splinters and leave the way clear—if they didn't riddle Gray with bullets in the meantime.
Pop-pop-pop! The air was becoming heavy with the white fog of smoke. Breathing was somewhat difficult, with so many shots being fired in the confined space.
Then both young officers stopped, passing back one revolver apiece to be reloaded.
Bang! came a defiant shot from inside the stateroom. The bullet struck the cabin floor just behind Jack, having passed between his feet.
The sailors, back where they were comparatively safe from harm, looked on in admiration at these two grit-full young American officers.
Pop-pop-pop! began the fusilade by Jack and Eph again.
"Ouch!" came a sudden yell from the stateroom.
"Hit you, did we?" called Jack, calmly. "Well, we're going to riddle you unless you stop that nonsense."
The answer was another shot from inside the stateroom. The bullet clipped off a stray lock of hair at the left side of Eph Somers's head.
Both young officers fired slowly, searchingly, until their weapons were emptied. Then they passed the hot smoking revolvers back for new loads.
From the other side of the stateroom door came no sound.
As soon as he and Eph had received the reloaded weapons, Jack motionedEph Somers not to fire.
For a few moments they listened. Then Jack turned, selecting the two most stalwart-looking of the husky sailors back by the companionway. A nod of Jack's head brought them stealthily to his side.
"Put your shoulders to the stateroom door, and force it," commandedLieutenant Benson.
At the same time Jack and Eph moved up with the sailors, holding their revolvers ready to fire at the first sign of renewed hostilities from within.
Bump! Two pairs of sturdy shoulders went up against the door. From within there came no sign of defiance. Bump! At the second determined assault the door flew open.
"Step back, men! We'll go in first," commanded Lieutenant Benson.
Revolvers in hand, and ready, the two young officers of the "Sudbury" pressed forward into the battered-looking room.
"Where is the rascal?" growled Eph Somers.
"Here, hiding like a cornered rat," replied Jack, aiming both revolvers at a huddled figure well in under the lower berth. "Come out, Gray! You won't be hurt unless you try tricks on us."
The answer was a groan.
"Are your hurt?" inquired Lieutenant Benson.
"Yes."
"How badly?"
"You hit me twice."
"Where?"
"Once in the left arm; once in the right thigh. O-o-o-h!"
Jack Benson felt a swift twinge—almost a guilty jerk of his conscience.
To be sure, Gray had been defying properly appointed officers of the government engaged in performing their sworn task. Gray had attempted to kill or injure the young officers.
Still, Gray was a human being. Benson, despite his fighting spirit, at need, was not fond of gazing upon misery.
"I guess you can get out, with a little aid," coaxed Lieutenant Jack.
Gray's answer was another groan.
"We'll help you out, then," Jack continued. "But don't you dare to open fire upon any of our party!"
"I would, if I could," snarled the wounded man.
"Why can't you?"
"Fired my last cartridge!" snapped the wretch, defiantly. "Else you wouldn't have got in here without losing a few men!"
Jack signed to the two men who had forced the door to lend a hand in moving Gray out from under the berth. As they got the wounded man out on the carpet he presented a sad picture in his bloodstained clothing.
"Will the Lieutenant pardon a suggestion?" spoke up one of the sailors, saluting.
"Yes."
"I have a first aid package, sir. With some help I can, bind this man's wounds until we get him over to the sick bay on the 'Sudbury.'"
"A fine idea," agreed Lieutenant Jack. "Go ahead."
First of all, the wounded prisoner was taken out into the passageway.Jack and Eph had yet important work to do here. For a few minutesthey searched in vain. Then, in turning over the lower berth's mattress,Eph's hand touched something hard.
"Wait until I get my pocket-knife out," he smiled.
Rip! r-r-r-r-rip! As Ensign Eph tore open the mattress and thrust his hands inside, the grin on his face broadened.
"I reckon we've got the object of the whole expedition," he announced.
He drew out a package wrapped in heavy paper. Jack broke the string, unwrapping, and pulling out to the light, a bundle of charts, layer upon layer.
"Yes. Here we have what we're after," nodded Lieutenant Benson. "And here are two books written chock-full of notes to go with the charts. Gracious! That fellow. Millard must have stolen plans of every important fortified harbor on the Atlantic coast. And here are charts of some of the gulf ports as well."
Gray, his wounds bound, had been laid on the door of the stateroom, which had been taken from its hinges. On this stretcher, the prisoner was taken over the side into the launch.
"Who's going to pay for the damage done here, sir?" asked the skipper of the Cobtown schooner, stepping forward.
"Hm!" muttered Jack. "It seems to me you are lucky, my man, that we don't put a prize crew aboard this craft and take you back to Norfolk."
"I haven't done anything," protested the fellow, "except to stand for a lot of damage on board because you're backed by sailors and marines."
"My man," retorted Jack, grimly, "if you think you have suffered any unfair damage, then lay your case before the Navy Department. But my private advice is for you not to attract the attention of the authorities to you in case they seem likely to overlook you."
"Is my vessel at liberty to proceed?" inquired the man, sullenly.
"Yes; I have no orders to seize your craft. I'd like to, however,"Lieutenant Jack Benson added, dryly.
Through the night the "Sudbury" rolled lazily over the waves.
A wireless message had carried the news through space to Washington.Orders had come to return to Norfolk, there turning Gray over to theUnited States authorities.
Benson and his comrades were instructed to return to Washington with the charts and record books.
Down in a berth in the sick bay, lay Gray. The hospital steward had made the wounded man as comfortable as possible. The latter was painfully but not seriously wounded.
At the speed at which the gunboat was now proceeding the "Sudbury" was due at anchorage at six in the morning.
Lieutenant Jack had turned in, after leaving orders that he was to be called a few minutes before five. He wanted to be on deck to enjoy the sensations of his last hour of command on the cruise of a vessel of the United States Navy. Forward, the sailors of the watch were talking in low tones of their very youthful officers.
"There's the real stuff in those boy officers, mates," grunted one sailor who had been in the boarding party. "It don't make any difference whether they've been through Annapolis or not. Look at the way the lieutenant and Mr. Somers went up against the shooting. Kept us back, and took the medicine themselves, like real officers."
"You'd expect it of Somers," rejoined another sailor. "There's a bit of the bull-neck about him, and such men always fight. But the lieutenant makes a real officer that I'd be glad to foller anywhere."
"Mr. Hastings didn't get a chance to show what was in him," suggested another of Uncle Sam's old salts.
"Oh, you leave Mr. Hastings alone for fighting, if he saw any need to," retorted the sailor who had been the first to speak. "He's one of your very quiet chaps. Your quiet ones always sail into a fight while a brawler is getting his mouth wound up to do some talking."
"Hanged, if I don't wish them lads could remain on board!" muttered another old salt.
"With the young lieutenant to command the ship?" asked another.
"Him as well as anyone. He knows what he's doing, for which reason I don't care for the number of the year he was born in. Why, mates, the lieutenant is the head of them submarine boys we've read so much about in the newspapers when layin' in port. And the other two are his messmates. Now, I'll stand for it that the submarine boys are good for any kind of a job on salt water. I'd foller their lead on a battleship!"
It would have been fine for the three submarine boys had they been able to know what great opinions the crew held of them.
But Hal was again on the bridge in the last watch, and Eph had gone below for an hour's sleep ere he, like Jack Benson, was to be called.
Then, at last, two sleepy-eyed boys came from their cabins, going up to the bridge for what they felt was their last hour of real sea-glory.
Ensign Fullerton appeared half an hour before anchorage was made.
"You have the satisfaction, sir, of knowing that your task was put through in record time," said Fullerton, by way of congratulation.
"For which I'm truly glad," smiled Benson. "Yet I could wish our experience with the Navy had not ended so soon."
"Why, it hasn't ended yet, sir," smiled the executive officer.
"It will, in a few minutes more, however," sighed Jack. "My last official act will be to order the gig into the water to take us on shore. We're under orders to take the next train for Washington, you know."
"Very true," smiled Ensign Fullerton. "But, sir, you are commanding officer of the 'Sudbury,' no matter where you may be, until you receive an order to relinquish command. Also, sir, your present appointments as officers in the service run until the orders appointing you are revoked."
"But that will all happen before the day is much older," replied Jack, with a forced smile.
It was going to come harder than he had thought, after this brief taste of real naval life, to give it all up!
No sooner had the "Sudbury" let go her anchors than Jack called for the gig. He and his comrades hurried below, doffing their uniforms, which went back into the dress suit cases. Then, in citizen dress, with their precious swords again wrapped in chamois skin, the three submarines went over the side.
There was the same ceremony, however, which had attended their coming aboard. The marine guard turned out, presenting arms as Lieutenant Jack Benson passed to the side gangway. Ensign Fullerton and Mr. Drake stood by to salute Jack, and to receive his formal acknowledgment of their courtesy.
Their feet touched the bottom of the gig. They seated themselves, and the short row to the landing stage commenced.
On the landing stage stood an orderly, who promptly saluted.
"The Commandant's compliments to Lieutenant Benson, and will theLieutenant and his comrades report at the Commandant's office."
Early as the hour was, the commandant was at his desk, in uniform, and received the young officers most graciously.
"Mr. Benson, and gentlemen," declared the commandant of the navy yard, "you have done your work well, and as quickly as it could have been done. I congratulate you. The Secretary of the Navy, I believe, will thank you personally, It was splendidly done. And now, if you will come around to the officers' club with me, you will find that your breakfasts have been ordered. It will be an hour and a half, yet, before it will be necessary for me to furnish you with the carriage that will convey you to the railway station."
In the presence of this much older officer the lads did not attempt to make too merry at breakfast. Seated in the dining room of the officers' mess, they listened respectfully to whatever the commandant saw fit to discuss.
The meal was about over when a marine orderly entered, crossed the dining room, stopped at a respectful distance, and saluted.
"Telegram, sir."
The commandant received the envelope, drawing out the sheet it contained.
"Lieutenant Benson, this will interest you and your comrades," pursued the commandant.
"The order revoking my command of the gunboat," thought Jack. Oddly enough, though he expected it, knew it must happen, the arrival of the moment brought a strange sinking at heart.
"I wonder how on earth it could have happened?" pursued the commandant, his eyes again turned toward the paper. "Millard has escaped from Fort Craven, and, so far, has eluded recapture!"
"The government possesses the fellow's charts and notes, anyway," observed Jack Benson, rather proudly.
"Yes, thanks to you, gentlemen," nodded the commandant. "Still, I fancy the authorities, will be fearfully annoyed over this escape."
"There are no particulars, sir, you say?" queried Jack.
"No; the mere announcement of the fellow's escape, and a request to military and naval authorities to be on the lookout for the fugitive The despatch also states that description will follow by wire."
"We can give you a pretty fair word-portrait of Millard right now, sir," offered Lieutenant Benson.
"And I wish you would."
Jack proceeded to do so. He had about finished, when the carriage stopped punctually before the door of the officers' club. The commandant took cordial leave of his young guests, after which they were driven to the railway station. Just a little later they found themselves leaning back in parlor car seats, bound for Washington.
Most of the way back the youngsters dozed in their chairs. Now, that the excitement was over, all felt need of rest.
Not even at the railway station in Washington could they escape the watchfulness of the Navy Department. The same messenger who, the day before, had handed them their copies of the Regulations, now met Benson with a note.
"The Secretary will not be at his office until one o'clock this afternoon," announced Lieutenant Jack, looking up from the order. "We are directed to report at that hour."
"What shall we do until then?" demanded Eph, blankly, when the messenger had departed.
"Why, since we're still in the service," laughed Jack, "and as I've heard that the Arlington is much patronized by Navy officers, suppose we treat ourselves to a carriage, go to the Arlington and register. That will be the last grand feeling we'll get out of this."
His comrades rather merrily agreed. So, a few minutes later, the trio marched through the lobby of the Arlington to the desk. Jack picked up a pen, and registered:
"John Benson, U.S.N."
Hal and Eph followed suit. Then they were led to their connecting rooms.
"We'll have luncheon at half-past eleven," smiled Lieutenant Jack, as he dropped into an easy chair. "In the service one never knows when his next meal is coming."
"Good!" chuckled Hal, though there was a sad ring to his tone. "Keep up as long as you can, old fellow, the fiction that we're still in the naval service."
"Well, aren't we?" demanded Jack, stoutly.
"Surely," assented Hal, meekly.
"Say," demanded Eph, taking out notebook and pencil, "what is an ensign's pay, anyway?"
"Seventeen hundred dollars a year," replied Benson.
"I don't suppose the Navy Department will try to spring less than a day's pay on us," hinted Eph. "If that's right, then the government now owes me three hundred and sixty-five into seventeen hundred. Let me see—"
"Oh, cut it!" laughed Hal.
"What? My pay?" demanded Eph, "Not much, sir! I want the only money I ever really earned."
"One of us ought to drop Mr. Farnum a line," hinted Jack, presently.
"Oh, well, let Hal do it," offered Eph. "He carries the only fountain pen in the crowd."
Without a word Hastings crossed to a table on which were envelopes and paper, and began to write. Perhaps he welcomed something to occupy his mind; for, truth to tell, each of these submarine boys had a woefully "blue" feeling. Though all were naval officers, still, at this moment, all realized that they would cease to be such as soon as they had received the thanks of the Secretary of the Navy. However, "blue" as all three felt, none of them hung back when half-past eleven arrived. They descended to the dining room, where they refreshed themselves heartily.
The meal over, there was just about enough time left for them to walk comfortably to the Navy Department.
They had walked a couple of blocks of the way when Hal suddenly felt the stamped letter in his pocket. He drew it out, and glanced hurriedly down the avenue.
"I don't see a letter-box ahead, fellows, but I saw one, half-way down the block, at the last corner we passed. You two keep right on. I'll join you."
Presently Jack and Eph halted in their walk to look back.
"Where is Hal?" demanded Somers.
"He can't have lost us," muttered Jack.
"Oh, I guess he has simply taken a short cut to meet us ahead on the way."
Yet, though they continued to look for their comrade until they had neared the State, War and Navy Building, Hal Hastings had not again appeared in sight.
"Say, but this is fearfully careless of good old Hal," muttered Jack Benson, uneasily, as he glanced at his watch. "We've no time to go back to look for him, either, for we've barely time to reach the Secretary's office."
"We'll have to go in without Hal, then," grumbled Eph. "It makes me feel like a fool, too!"
Had the two lads but known it, there was still plenty of time. For the Secretary of the Navy may make an appointment with an understrapper, and then find that he must first see some more important personage.
There were "big" callers ahead of the boys that day, so that it was nearly two o'clock when Lieutenant Jack and Ensign Eph were admitted to the presence that they were to leave shorn of their brief rank and command.
"Good afternoon, Lieutenant Benson. Good afternoon, Mr. Somers," was Secretary Sanders's swift greeting. "You were most successful, and I must congratulate you heartily. But—where is Mr. Hastings?"
"We don't know, Mr. Secretary," Jack admitted. "He left us for a short time, as we thought, and, since then—"
Mr. Sanders wheeled sharply as the door opened and a clerk came in.
"Pardon me, sir," apologized the clerk. "But a note has just come for Lieutenant Benson, sir, and the messenger was insistent that it was a most important matter—"
"You may take your note and read it, Lieutenant," suggested the Secretary of the Navy.
Young Benson gave a start when he recognized, in the address, the handwriting of Hal Hastings.
In another instant Jack gave a much more violent start. For these were the words that met his astounded gaze.
"Dear Jack: I am in a Washington police station, feeling like a number-one idiot. Soon after leaving you I ran into Millard, face to face, There was a policeman within two hundred feet at the moment. I let out a full siren yell and dashed at Millard. He held on to me until the policeman reached the spot. I let him hold me, thinking that the easiest way. But Millard produced a paper—a request from the military authorities at Fort. Craven, to arrest and hold anyone pointed out by the bearer. I talked—some—to that policeman, but it did no good. He took me to the station house, and here I am! Millard vanished, after saying that he'd wire the news of my arrest to Fort Craven. You'll have to explain me out of this. Yours disgustedly, Hal."
"May I read this to you, Mr. Secretary?" begged Jack Benson.
"Do so, Lieutenant."
"I will be back in a moment," muttered the Secretary of the Navy, rising, and hastily quitting the room.
The instant that high official was gone Eph caught at his sides with his hands.
"Oh, wow! Woof! Umpah!" chuckled young Somers, his face distorted with glee. "Some one catch me! I'm choking! Great Scott, what wouldn't I have given to see that? Hal, the quiet, the dignified? Oh, dear! Oh, dear. Hal pounces on the fellow, to arrest him, and Hal is the one who gets pinched Woo-oo! I can see Hal's face right now I'll wager an anchor to a fish-hook that the astonished look is stamped on Hal's face so hard that it won't come off for a week. Oh—woof!"
Eph was laughing so hard that the tears streamed down his face.
"Quit that!" commanded Jack, stepping over to his comrade, his own face stern. "It's no laughing matter."
"Why, they won't hang Hal!" sputtered Eph, as soon as he could talk. "Hal will be at liberty almost at once. But fancy the shock! Imagine the dear old fellow's astonishment, and the jolt to his feelings."
Again Eph Somers went off into a paroxysm of laughter. It seemed uncontrollable, for Eph had a strong sense of the ludicrous, and Hal's face, as Somers pictured it, must have been a tremendously funny sight at the instant when Millard so neatly turned the tables.
"Come, quit your nonsense!" grumbled Jack, disgustedly.
"I can't," roared Eph, going off into still another burst of laughter.
Just at that instant Somers gave himself the lie. The door opened, admitting the Secretary of the Navy. In a fraction of a second Ensign Eph had straightened up, while his face was solemn enough for an Indian chief's countenance.
"I have just been straightening out that little matter," explained Mr.Sanders. "I have talked with the police, and have described Hastings.The police are in deep chagrin over their blunder. Mr. Hastings is nowat liberty and on his way here."
At a motion from Mr. Sanders the two young officers seated themselves.The Secretary turned to his desk to sign some papers.
From Eph, suddenly, came a suppressed, explosive sound. Jack seated beside him on a sofa gave Somers an indignant elbow jab. The Secretary glanced up, then resumed his writing.
A minute later there came from Eph the sound of another smothered explosion. The picture of Hal Hastings's indignant astonishment had once more been conjured up before young Somers's face. Poor Eph was red in the face with all the effort of keeping back his laughter.
"I fear you must have caught some cold, standing watch on the gunboat's bridge," said the Secretary, sympathetically.
That sobered Somers in an instant. The notion that he—he a sea-dog accustomed to stand watch in all weathers, could catch cold through exposure of the kind just mentioned made Eph feel a sense of ghastly humiliation.
Five minutes later Ensign Hal Hastings was shown into the office. The Secretary of the Navy greeted him kindly, though with a twinkle in his eyes.
"The paper that caused my trouble was one that was taken from Mr. Benson when he couldn't help himself," Hal explained. "For some reason, the military authorities never discovered that Millard had that paper about him. It was enough to save him from arrest an hour ago."
"And Millard is still at large," nodded Mr. Sanders. "It's a matter for the military authorities and the Secret Service, I imagine. I don't see how the Navy can be drawn into it. However, I am going to ask you young gentlemen to retain your special appointments a little longer. I may yet have considerable need of you in this affair. You are stopping at the Arlington? Perhaps, for this afternoon, you would enjoy going over to the United Service Club, where you are likely to meet a good many Army and Navy officers. I will send some one along with you who will see to it that you have ten-day cards at the club."
At any other time this all would have meant to Jack Benson that he was still an officer in the Navy. Just now, however, it meant that Millard was at large, and Benson had a strong notion that it would yet fall to the lot of the submarine boys to put that wretch where he belonged.
"Ho-ho! Haw-haw! Woof!"
Eph found himself started again, the very instant the boys found themselves in the lower corridor of the building.
"Let him alone," uttered Jack, scornfully. "The poor fellow had better work it all out of his system."
"But, Hal, your face—when the policeman took you, on Millard's complaint!" sputtered Somers, next going off into another burst of laughter.
"It didn't seem funny, at the time," returned Hal Hastings, quietly.
"Ho-ho! Haw! Of course, not. Say, Hal, can you do me a tremendous favor? Can you look, just for a moment, the way you did when that blue-coat pinched you?"
Hal began to laugh, despite the fact that his loss of Millard still rankled under his quiet outside.
"Now, hush up," warned Benson, suddenly. "Here comes Lieutenant Ulwin, who has undertaken to present us at the United Service Club. Idiots are barred from the club, you know, Eph."
By a great exercise of will power Eph managed to straighten his face by the time that the lieutenant overtook them. They entered a cab. By this time the young naval officers were beginning to understand that it is the usual custom to go about Washington in a carriage.
"Have you ever been at a Service Club before?" inquired their guide.
"We breakfasted at the club at Norfolk this morning?" Jack answered.
"Your acquaintance with our Service clubs is not very large, then?"
"We have also been at the club at Fort Craven."
"Oh!" smiled Lieutenant Ulwin. "I guess you gentlemen have been about a little more in the two branches of the service, than I had suspected. You have seen the officers of both the Army and the Navy at play?"
"Mostly at table, I should say," laughed Benson.
"The club is the only place where we can go and get away from shop-talk," continued Ulwin. "As a rule the Army and Navy men at our club do not talk much shop. It may be different to-day, however."
"Why to-day?" asked Jack.
"Because—well, you see, I am introducing three rather famous strangers to-day."
"Meaning—" began Hal, quietly.
"You young gentlemen, of course. The whole nation has heard much about the submarine boys. Yet it is in the Army and the Navy, after all, that the deepest, most abiding interest in you exists."
"This red spot on my cheek isn't a blush," explained Ensign Eph, suddenly. "It's where a mosquito bit me."
"I am not joking," replied Ulwin, with a friendly smile. "All the officers of the Navy know about you by this time."
"They'll be greatly disappointed, when they see us, then, won't they?" laughed Hal Hastings.
"Now, see here," protested Eph, earnestly, "I can stand a good deal. But, if they see us walking around the club, and ask who left the lid off the can of shrimps—I'll fight!"
Ulwin laughed heartily.
"I shall have to pass the word to our worst jokers," he smiled, "that it won't be safe for the fellow who starts in to tease you young men."
"Why, if anyone does start, we've got to keep our tongues behind our teeth," returned Hal. "We're only boys—kids—and we can't say anything smart to men who have been a good many years in the service."
"You can answer back, if anyone starts to have any fun with you," replied Lieutenant Ulwin. "Remember, a club is where all men stand on an equal footing. If an admiral gets after you, you will do well to swallow any witticism he may try on you. But with any officer below an admiral you don't have to be so careful."
Eph Somers immediately began to look thoughtful. Now, Eph did know how to say caustic things when occasion seemed to demand.
"Here we are," announced Lieutenant Ulwin, suddenly, as the cab stopped before the club building.
Hal went in at Ulwin's side. Jack gripped Eph by the elbow, pulling the auburn-haired one back a few paces.
"Now, see here, Eph, remember that we don't want any funny answers inside."
"But Ulwin says—"
"You listen to what I'm saying, Eph. I've known you longer than Mr. Ulwin has. Just remember that we're boys—b-o-y-s—boys. Not one of us is quite eighteen yet. If we've gained a little fame for five minutes, we mustn't begin to imagine that we're eight feet high and on a par with men forty years old. So be careful, Eph. If anyone starts to have any fun with you, come back at him a different way."
"How?" whispered Eph.
"Look stupid."
"What?"
"Look stupid."
"I don't see much in that."
"Why, it's the funniest answer possible; and, besides, it isn't fresh or forward."
"How do you make that out?" Eph inquired.
"Why, Eph, boy, if you're half as famous as you may think you are, then folks will know you can't be stupid. So, if you pretend to be, you'll have everyone guessing what you mean by looking that way. On the other hand, if you look stupid, and no one is surprised, then you'll discover that that's just the way the crowd had you sized up in advance."
"I see," nodded Eph, but it was plain that Jack's almost direct command was not wholly pleasing to Somers.
The two comrades now caught up with Ulwin and Hal at the elevator.
"We'll go up to the reading room, first," proposed Lieutenant Ulwin."That's where the afternoon crowd is usually found."
Anyone who had been looking for "color" or pomp would have been disappointed. The only uniforms in sight were those worn by two bell boys. The officers of the Army and Navy present were all in citizen dress. They looked like a lot of cheerful, prosperous business men.
"Hullo, Ulwin, what are you doing with my friends from Dunhaven?" eagerly called one young man, rising hastily and coming forward. "Benson, I'm glad to see you. And you, Hastings. And you, Somers."
"Didn't know you knew the young gentlemen, McCrea," broke in Ulwin.
"Don't know them? When they made me the laughing-stock of every mess-room crowd in the Navy for months!" retorted McCrea.
Jack, Hal and Eph were shaking hands with the speaker with a good deal of pleasure.
It was Lieutenant McCrea, one-time watch officer on the battleship "Luzon." At one time McCrea had doubted that submarine boats were, in all respects, as wonderful craft as was claimed. The submarine boys had paid him back in most laughable fashion. Lieutenant McCrea, at one time, had felt himself much aggrieved over the wholesome teasing of his brother officers in consequence; but he had long since learned to accept the whole incident as a good and deserved joke.
Now, McCrea stood wringing the hands of the boys as though he had found long-lost friends.
"What are you doing these days?" McCrea wanted to know. "Anything besides testing new boats at Dunhaven?"
"You must greet them as comrades, McCrea," continued Lieutenant Ulwin.
"What? Cadets at Annapolis?"
In this case McCrea wondered at their being there, for cadets would be considered forward who visited an officers' club.
"Benson is a lieutenant, his friends ensigns," replied Ulwin.
"Come, come!" laughed McCrea. "I'm easy—these boys know that. But don't tell me—"
"Fact, though," replied Ulwin. "They hold special appointments, for some special duty or other. I'm here, at the direction of the Navy Department, to introduce these young brother officers of ours, and to procure ten-day cards for them."
By this time the news had spread. A score of officers, young or middle-aged, were crowding about. Ulwin had his hands full introducing the submarine boys. Yet they stood the ordeal well. The habit of command, based on discipline, had given these boys plenty of poise and self-possession. Nor were any attempts made, at that time, to have any good-humored fun with them. Half a dozen officers representing foreign navies were present. These, too, came in for introductions. The foreigners were, mainly, military or naval officers attached to foreign embassies at Washington.
"By Jove, Benson, I've had it in mind, for some time, that I wanted to meet you and grasp your hand," murmured Lieutenant Abercrombie, of the British Navy, as he drew Lieutenant Jack to one side. "By Jove, old fellow, I want to meet you soon and have a good old talk all by ourselves."
"That will be most agreeable to me," nodded Jack, pleasantly.
"And your comrades, too," added Abercrombie. "You know, you're already known on the other side. Fact, I assure you. Only the other day I picked up a London magazine and read quite an account of the doings of you three. I was especially interested in an account of how you three discovered a way of leaving a submarine at the bottom and swimming to the surface; then diving and re-entering the craft while she's still on the bottom. But your method is a secret, I suppose?"
"Yes," smiled Jack. "At least, the American Navy alone shares the secret with us."
"Oh, I'm not asking it, you know, old fellow," Lieutenant Abercrombie assured him.
"Is Mr. Benson here?" called a bell-boy, from the doorway.