"The _Endymion_?"
"Yes; she has infectious disease on board. She must not leave theharbor."
There was a brief and portentous silence. In the hot, heavy stillnessthe boys could hear each other's deep breathing.
Then radio waves began to beat against Jack's stunned ears. "The_Endymion_ with a clean bill of health passed out to sea half an hourago."
CHAPTER XXXV
JARROLD GETS FRANTIC
Jack turned to find the colonel bending over him. Despite the militaryman's firm effort at self-control, his face was gray.
"Is there any hope?" he asked.
Jack shook his head.
"They've stolen a march on us, Colonel," he said. "The yacht had a cleanbill of health, whether forged or not, I don't know. At any rate, herclearance papers must have been O. K. or she could not have sailed."
"Probably forged," said the colonel. "I must communicate with Washingtonat once."
"I can probably relay a message through," said Jack. "What do you wantto say?"
"I will go to my cabin and write it in code," was the reply, and withstooping shoulders the stricken colonel left the wireless room. After ashort time he was back again with his code message. In the meantime, Samand De Garros, under Jack's instructions, had notified the ship'sofficers, who were all ashore, of the looting of the safe, and animportant conference, which Colonel Minturn joined, was held in CaptainMcDonald's cabin.
An examination by the purser showed that nothing except the papers,which had been in an inner drawer, had been taken, so that there was noobject in alarming the passengers by notifying them of the robbery. Themoney and valuables were temporarily removed to another and older safe,and a screen placed about the damaged one to shield it from prying eyes.
Jack was summoned to the cabin to give his version of the affair andreceived warm commendation for the way he had acted. But the boy feltsomehow--however causelessly--that he might have done more to prevent therobbery and recover the papers. However, it was too late then.
He succeeded at last in getting a message through to the nationalcapital, relaying to the immense radio station at Arlington. Thatmessage borne over the seas, caused more excitement in Washington thanhad any piece of news received there for many days. Cabinet officerswere summoned for an extraordinary conference and every wire andtentacle of the secret service was set in motion.
Scout cruisers stationed off Mexico were ordered to scour the seas forthe _Endymion_ and capture Jarrold if they had to sink his yacht. Theadministration's message to Colonel Minturn was in code, but Jackguessed that it was a sharp reprimand couched in no very gentle terms.Uncle Sam is not harsh with his servants, but he does not toleratemistakes, even though innocent and unavoidable.
The _Tropic Queen_ sailed early next morning while the naval wirelesswas still sending the far-flung message, "Find the _Endymion_ andcapture the man Jarrold." That simple message from Jack, tapped out byhis agile finger-tips, had set the machinery of the war and navydepartments buzzing as nothing short of a declaration of war could havedone.
The possession of the complete plans of the fortification of the PanamaCanal by Jarrold, meant only one thing. They would speedily pass intothe hands of the foreign power of which he was agent. This meant thatthe power in question would have complete, triumphant knowledge of themost carefully guarded secrets of the mighty nation that built the greatcanal.
It would be necessary to squander money and time on remodeling the wholesystem of defense unless the _Endymion_ could be found. That was theburden of the song the naval wireless men were flinging backward andforward with flaming keys that crackled and flared angrily.
"Find the _Endymion_! If she is on the Seven Seas, find her."
Over those who knew the secret agony that the army officer was sufferinghung a heavy gloom, as the _Tropic Queen_ ploughed her way seaward,bound for Santa Marta on the coast of Colombia. Colonel Minturn kept tohis room, nursing his anxiety.
From time to time the naval wireless boomed messages in the secret codeinto Jack's ears and they were promptly transmitted below. But thecolonel sent out no replies. All that he could say had been said in thatfirst radiogram that had set official Washington a-buzz.
And in the meantime, on board the _Endymion_, what was happening?Speeding as if from a deadly plague, she was driven at top speed acrossthe Caribbean. Jarrold, his face gray and lined, and almost asanxious-looking as the visage of Colonel Minturn, paced the deck and thebridge, calling always for speed and more speed. His niece, pale-facedand nerve-racked, watched him anxiously.
Cummings, catching the naval messages that volleyed through the air,told of the hunt that was up; of the naval prows ploughing the tropicseas in a systematic hunt for the grayhound-like yacht that was fleeinglike a criminal across the sea wastes.
Jarrold, under the strain, grew dangerous to approach. He kept shoutingand signaling for speed and ever more speed. The engineer appealed tohim in vain. It was dangerous. The boilers could carry no more steam.Already the ship was a-quiver with their imprisoned power.
But Jarrold had only one reply:
"More speed, I say, more speed!"
On the evening of the second day of this mad race, a murmur began to runthrough the ship: A rumor that Jarrold was a criminal. That he wasfleeing from justice. That he would blow the ship up with every soul onboard rather than be captured.
The grimy crew of the stokehold, the "black watch," refused to face thetrembling boilers any longer. They feared that at any moment the steelplates would yield under the terrific pressure and annihilate them andthe ship. The chief engineer, unable to keep them at their work, even atthe pistol's point, sought Jarrold, while the stokers spread a mutinousspirit throughout the yacht.
Jarrold was bending over a chart in the pilot house when the engineerfound him.
"You are crawling like a snail," he snarled; "more speed."
"The men have quit," said the engineer quietly to the half-crazed man."They are afraid to work below. The boilers may burst any moment."
"I don't care about that. We must reach the coast before to-morrowmorning. It must be done. My life hangs on it."
"I can't help that. The men won't work," protested the engineer;"they've thrown down their shovels and gone forward. I'd advise you togive in to them; they are in a dangerous mood."
Jarrold sprang to his feet with a snarl. He reached into a drawer anddrew out a magazine revolver.
"The mutinous dogs! I'll drive them back to their fires with this," herasped out, rushing from the bridge.
"Don't do anything rash," implored the engineer, who knew how thingsstood. "The rest of the crew are with them and we'll have a generalmutiny on our hands if you precipitate trouble."
The only answer was a roar of rage from the hunted man, about whom UncleSam was weaving a fine-meshed wireless net.
He swung down the steps from the bridge to the main deck with theagility of an ape. The captain, who also knew how matters stood, turnedto the engineer and the mate.
"You fellows better get your guns," he said; "there's trouble comingnow."
Suddenly the slender, graceful form of Jarrold's niece appeared on thebridge.
"Oh, what is it? What is the matter?" she implored.
"It's nothing, Miss Jarrold," began the captain, in a tone intended topacify the half-hysterical girl. "You see----"
The sharp crack of a pistol shot cut him short. Following the shot, camea riot of savage cries and shouts.
The captain wasted no more words but, followed by his officers, allarmed with revolvers, ran forward.
"That madman has spilled the fat now," he cried, as they rushed towardthe forecastle. The sounds proceeding from it resembled the uproar froma den of wild beasts.
CHAPTER XXXVI
ADRIFT
Cummings, like the rank coward that he was, had run for his cabin justbehind the pilot house when the inferno broke loose. He was cowering init with ashen cheeks when Miss Jarrold appeared in the doorway.
"Go away! Go away!" screamed Ralph, in an agony of fright. "The crew hasmutinied. They'll kill us all. Oh, dear!"
"You coward!" said the girl, with flashing eyes, drawing her figure upto its full height. "Have you got a pistol?"
"Yes, there's one in the drawer there," stuttered Ralph.
With cool, firm hands, the girl took out the weapon.
"What are you going to do?" mewed Ralph fearfully.
"Help my uncle. You know what danger is on his track. Those men must goback to the furnaces."
"Oh, we'll all be killed," repeated Ralph tremulously; "or, if we're notkilled, we'll be caught by a war ship. The air is full of messages aboutus. Scout cruisers from Vera Cruz, and war craft from other places areclosing in all around us."
The girl bit her lip and turned a trifle pale.
"What are they saying?" she demanded.
"I can't tell. The messages are all in code, but I can catch the name ofthis yacht all the time."
The bulky figure of the captain suddenly appeared. The girl looked athim inquiringly. There was an expression on his bluff face that shecould not fathom.
"Miss Jarrold, I have some unpleasant news for you," he said.
"Well, Captain, what is it?" she demanded haughtily.
The big seaman shifted from foot to foot uneasily.
"Your uncle has shot a fireman up in the forecastle," he said. "Oh,don't be alarmed; not dangerously, but the men are ugly. Your uncle,too, has confessed to me that there's a whole lot that is crooked aboutthis cruise and I don't like it. The United States cruisers are afterus, he says."
The girl bowed her head.
"So I believe. What of it? We have chartered this vessel and it is yourduty to obey orders."
"I beg your pardon, Miss, that's what I was coming to. It's my duty tomy owners not to get their craft in a position where it can beconfiscated by the government. That is what will happen if we keep onrunning away. The situation amounts to this. The men have got your unclecaptured and tied. They say they won't work the ship as long as he is onboard unless he is made a prisoner."
The girl tapped her foot impatiently.
"Is that all the authority you have over them? Why don't you drive themto their posts?"
"Because I don't intend to, Miss. This cruise ain't regular; and I wantthis fellow here to send out a wireless message to the nearestbattleship telling her our bearings and saying that we'll give up Mr.Jarrold."
"And if he refuses to accept?"
"We'll have to provision a boat and turn him loose in it. It's in theregular steamer lane here and he won't suffer much inconvenience.Somebody's bound to pick him up, and, anyhow, there are islands not faroff."
The mate and the engineer appeared with Jarrold at this juncture. Hishands were bound and his expression of rage was more like that of a wildbeast than a man.
"I've already told Mr. Jarrold the men's terms and mine, Miss," said thecaptain. "Mr. Jarrold, sir, which is it to be?"
Jarrold looked like a trapped wolf. He glared at his niece and at hiscaptors.
"You see, I can't lose my ship just because you've done something thatseems to have stirred up the whole administration," said the captaindiplomatically. "Personally, if you want to get away, I'd take to theboat. I can cook up a story about you and the young lady escaping onedark night, when we reach port."
Jarrold raged silently. The girl, white-lipped, erect and defiant,merely said: "Go on, please."
"You see we can't hope to get away. Every port we can touch at has awireless plant of some sort. By this time the whole coast of the twoAmericas is on the lookout for us. And we can't keep on going withoutcoal, and because of the crazy way we've been making steam, the bunkersare pretty nigh empty."
Jarrold nodded bitterly. The truth of the captain's arguments appearedto strike home on even his stubborn mind.
"You'll pledge your word to do no talking?" he said.
"Not a word, sir, and I'll answer for my officers, too."
"But the sailors?"
"Oh, they'll talk, but nobody believes a sailor's yarns, anyhow. I don'tknow what you've been doing, but it's clear that Uncle Sam wants youmighty bad. However, that's none of my business. My job is to save myship from confiscation or being blowed up. So is it to be surrender bywireless or the boat?"
Jarrold glanced at his niece. She came to his side and stood thereproudly.
"Let it be the boat," she said; and Jarrold nodded his head in silentassent. He seemed crushed and broken by the way in which fate had turnedagainst him in the very hour of his triumph.
CHAPTER XXXVII
THE IRONY OF FATE
The _Tropic Queen_ moved majestically through a sapphire sea. It was aperfect tropic night. A dream mist, like a scarf of shimmering, spangledvapor lay over the water. Above, the great, soft stars of the equatorialregions beamed from a sky like blue-black velvet. High above the mainmast, like a great lamp, hung the full moon.
Disaster, danger and death seemed miles away, a contingency too remoteto be considered. Yet they were close at hand, far closer than any ofthe sleeping passengers dreamed.
The bells chimed the hours and half hours as they slipped by to thesteady threshing of the propeller, and the wake of the big ship spreadfan-like from her stern in a milky stream that flashed with luminousphosphorescence.
Suddenly, from the lookout in the crow's nest came a shout sharp andclear.
"Something dead ahead, sir," was the reply to the inquiring hail fromthe bridge.
"Can you make it out?"
"Not yet, sir. It's two points on the starboard bow."
From the bridge night-glasses were leveled, but the eyes in the crow'snest made out the nature of the drifting object on the moonlit seafirst.
"It's a boat, sir."
"A boat?"
"Aye, aye, sir. Looks like a ship's boat."
"Anybody aboard?"
"Can't just make out yet, sir."
And then a minute later:
"Yes, sir. I see somebody standing up and waving. It's--it's a woman,sir."
"Jove," exclaimed Mr. Metcalf, who had the watch. "Schultz, call thecaptain. Tell him there's a boat with a woman castaway on board ahead ofus."
"Aye, aye," cried the old quartermaster, and hurried off on the errand,leaving the wheel to his mate; for on such a night the ship could besteered almost by a boy.
The captain hastened to the bridge in his pajamas and bath-robe.
"A boat, eh, Metcalf?" he said.
"Yes, sir. A ship's boat, by the looks of her."
"Order the engines slowed down. Schultz, get the after cutter ready forclearing away."
The old quartermaster's whistle sang out shrilly, and the watch jumpedaft, alert for anything that was in the wind. Like magic, word had flownamong the crew of the discovery of the tiny derelict.
"The land's not more than two hundred miles off," said Metcalf. "It'spossible they've drifted out to sea."
"Most probably that is it, unless some disaster has overtaken a ship. Atany rate, it couldn't have come from storm, for we haven't had anyweather to speak of for days."
"By the way, sir, I heard a lot of talk before we left Kingston aboutearthquake weather. In my opinion, a quiet, still night like this meanssome sort of a shake. At least, that's what the natives say."
"Yes; and the glass has been singularly high. That's a sign of somethingin the wind," was the response. "But go aft, Metcalf, and see that theyclear that boat properly."
"Yes, sir," and the chief officer hurried off.
He found Colonel Minturn, who had been pacing the deck sleeplessly inhis anxiety, beside the boat crew, watching their preparations. Jack,whose watch had just expired, was there, too.
"Something up, eh?" asked the colonel.
"Yes; there's a drifting boat with a woman in it dead ahead. We're goingto pick her up."
"I wonder if I could go along," said the colonel. "It would be somethingto relieve this anxiety. It is terrible. I cannot sleep. All
I can do isto walk the decks and think."
"I'll ask the captain," said Mr. Metcalf. "Personally, I have noobjections."
He was soon back with the required permission.
"Ready, you're off duty and I know you like anything like adventure, soif you want to come, get aboard."
"Good!" exclaimed Jack. "Have you any idea what boat it is?"
"Not the least. That makes it all the more interesting. From what we canmake out, though, it's a ship's boat of some sort."
The big vessel almost ceased to move. Her propeller, driven by theslowly working engines, only made a ripple on the water. The boat wasswung over and struck the sea with a gentle splash.
"There they are, men. Give way with a will now," ordered Mr. Metcalfbriskly.
The oars struck the water, sending serpents of phosphorescence over itsdark surface. The boat moved swiftly forward toward the other craft, asmall white gig apparently.
"There's the woman," cried Jack. "Look, she's standing up and waving!"
"There's a man there, too," cried Mr. Metcalf. "Pull hard, men, the poordevils may have been drifting for days."
"Hold on! We're coming," cried the colonel encouragingly, forgetting hisown troubles in the sight of these two castaways of the sea.
The boats ranged alongside and the crew of the _Tropic Queen's_ boatseized the gunwale of the other craft, holding them together. Jack stoodup and extended his arm to the young woman to aid her on board theliner's boat.
The next instant a shock, sharp as the sudden sting of a galvanicbattery, shook him.