CHAPTER XVII.
PLAYING THE SPY.
Captain Oscar Pelham knew only too well that he carried his life in his hands.
He was in the heart of the enemy's domain, and they would not hesitate to kill him on sight.
He must be cautions, for the ship was a strange one to him and it would be easy to make a false move and thus expose himself.
In one hand he carried a long knife and in his belt rested a brace of pistols.
He walked silently to the end of the stateroom he had entered, and through a half-open door saw a narrow passageway leading into a large and well-furnished cabin.
From this cabin came the murmur of voices which had first greeted his ears.
The British commander of the ship was holding a conference with the two Chinese captains of the warships lying close alongside.
As Oscar took a step forward, a negro suddenly appeared, from another stateroom.
"Hi, you——" began the negro, when Oscar caught him by the throat.
"Silence! if you value your life!" muttered the young captain of the new Holland. "Say another word and I will kill you!"
The negro was powerful, and instead of keeping silent he tried to throw Oscar off. Both went down to the floor and the negro strove to cry out.
It was a fatal move.
Down came the keen knife, straight into the negro's body, and he lay still where he had fallen.
Oscar withdrew the bloody blade with a shudder.
He hated to take human life thus, but it had been rendered absolutely necessary.
He stowed the body under a bunk and threw a blanket before it.
Then wiping the knife on a curtain, he tiptoed his way closer to the cabin.
"I do not see how your plan can succeed," he heard the English captain say.
"But it will succeed," replied one of the Chinese captains, with a strong accent. "Chan Lee and I have it well in hand."
"Then you must have a strong hold upon President Adams."
"We have."
"I doubt if he will agree, even so. Why, sir, if he did that, he would be a traitor to his country—a regular Benedict Arnold."
At this both Chinese captains shrugged their bony shoulders and drew down their almond-shaped eyes.
"That is nothing to us," remarked the captain, who had heretofore remained silent.
"He won't do it, I tell you."
"Captain Gresson forgets that the President has lost his daughter," went on the other Chinese captain.
"Ha! So that is the way the wind blows!" ejaculated Captain Gresson.
"You are now on the right path."
"The girl was abducted."
The two Chinese captains bowed.
"You have her on board of your ship?"
"No, she is many miles from here."
"Where?"
Again the two Chinese captains shrugged their shoulders.
"Let us talk of something else," said one.
"It is a clever plan, but a horrible one in the bargain," was the honest comment of the British captain. "We don't make war in that fashion."
"The Chinese fight as pleases them," answered one of the yellow commanders.
"Yes, I know. But I don't think you will succeed, anyway."
"Why?"
"President Adams would rather see his child killed before his face than prove a traitor to his country. I know these Americans."
"Good for the Briton!" muttered Oscar. "His heart is in the right place, even if he is an enemy."
"We shall see!" muttered one of the yellow captains. "But what of this attack on San Francisco?"
"Orders are to commence at sunrise to-morrow."
"And how many ships will take part?"
"Seven."
"But seven?"
"Yes."
"And the remainder?"
"The remainder will sail up the coast under the direction of the Russian admiral."
"To bombard the Alaskan coast and try to retake the territory," said the Chinese captain, with a shrewd laugh. "The great Russian bear has always wanted Alaska back, since gold was discovered at the Klondyke and elsewhere."
"Well, who can blame him?" answered the English captain. "What do you ask at the hands of President Adams—a slice of California, where you can locate a new Chinatown—and if he won't give it to you you will kill his daughter."
The talk continued for several minutes more, when there came a call from the deck.
"I will come in a moment," said the English captain, and arising he hurried to the passageway in which Oscar was hiding.
The Englishman passed him, but not so the yellow captains.
One stumbled over a rug and pitched forward, clutching at the curtains which concealed Oscar.
Down came the curtains.
"Walila! Cher walila!" roared the second yellow captain. "A spy! He must be killed!"
"A spy!" cried the British captain.
"Ha! You are a stranger to us!" came from Captain Gresson, and he eyed Oscar sharply.
"Hush! Not so loud!" said Oscar, and raised his hand, warningly.
He saw that he was in a bad situation—that nothing but a clever ruse could save his life.
"Why be still, young sir?" demanded the British captain, but in a lower tone.
"We may be overheard," whispered Oscar. "I come to you on a secret errand. Is the admiral on board?"
"No, the admiral was here, but left an hour ago."
"To go up the Alaskan coast?"
"I believe so. But what is that to you? Who are you?"
"I am Barton Peeks," answered Oscar.
He mentioned the name of a notorious British spy who had been captured in St. Louis, shortly after the great war broke out.
"Barton Peeks!" ejaculated Captain Gresson. "Where have you been? How did you get here?"
"It is a long story, captain," replied Oscar. "I was placed under arrest by those clever Yankees, but I found a friend and escaped one dark night in a heavy storm. But I have important news for the admiral. If he goes to the Alaskan coast all is lost."
"Then you thought he was on board this vessel?"
"I did; otherwise I would never have come on board."
"How did you get here?"
"In a submarine boat captured from the Yankees."
"Not the Holland XI.?"
"No, but a craft very much like her. We captured her while she was coming through the Central American Canal. Six of the men on board were killed. The engineer took the oath of allegiance to England and I got aboard a new crew of men I could trust. We shall now be able to give the Yankees a dose of our own medicine, captain."
"It is a strange story, Peeks—a strange tale, truly. But you were always a wizard, by the war reports—captured to-day and free to-morrow. Where is your craft?"
"At the stern. Will you come on board?"
"I am needed on deck now."
"I will go aboard and wait for you, for I want you to help me. Everything is going wrong, and this movement on Alaska is the worst of all."
"I would like to see that strange under-water ship," spoke up one of the yellow captains, who had listened to the talk with interest.
"Then come with me," said Oscar, grimly. "And you'll be a prisoner in five minutes more," he added under his breath.
The turn of affairs delighted him, for the Chinese commander was the same who had spoken about President Adams' daughter. Once he was a prisoner, Oscar was certain he could wring the yellow wretch's secret from him.
"Remain here for a moment," said Oscar, as they neared the stern. "My men are on guard and may not like to see me with a stranger, after my telling them I had come on a secret mission. I will be back in a minute."
The Chinese captain agreed to wait, and Oscar hurried to the rear rail of the Corcoran.
He leaned far over, expecting to catch a dim view of the new Holland underneath.
Then a cry of dismay burst from his lips.
The submarine craft was gone!