CHAPTER XIII
THE TRAMP
"Looks as if the game's up," commented Rawlins, when he too had readthe brief message. "Guess they held the last trump. Well, I suppose wemight as well be getting back to our folks--they'll begin to thinkwe're lost as well as the boys."
"Yes," agreed Mr. Pauling. "There's nothing more we can do until weget some hint or clue to where they've flown. But we'll have todestroy this lair before we leave. It seems a terrible waste and ashame to do it, but I don't intend having them come back after we go.We can bring some explosives from the submarine and blow the placeup."
"No need to do that," declared Rawlins. "Just tell Jules and his ganghere to help themselves and there won't be much left for theBolsheviks, if they do come back. When they get through looting theycan build a rattling big fire in here and that'll finish it. It'slimestone and after it's heated it'll crumble to bits."
"Good idea!" replied the other. "Sam, tell Jules that he and his menare welcome to anything they want in the cave. But make him promise tobuild a huge fire inside after they've taken what they want."
As Sam interpreted this to Jules, the latter's eyes fairly bulged withwonder and a wide grin spread across his countenance as it graduallydawned upon him that the white man had made him a present of all thesetreasures. Already, in his mind's eye, he could picture the duskybelles of his village strutting about in gowns of silk and satinbrocades, he could see their earthen jars and battered iron potsgiving way to those shiny cooking utensils, he could imagine howdressed up his huts would be with those deeply cushioned chairs, thepictures and the statues.
"I'll say he'll' be heap big chief now," chuckled Rawlins, as he sawJules' eyes roaming greedily over the furnishings as if at a loss whatto seize first. "And say, won't it be a scream when some chap comesalong and finds a bunch of French West Indian niggers all dolled outwith billiard tables, grand pianos and marble Venuses!"
Then, a sudden whimsical idea seized him, and grasping Jules' arm, heexclaimed, "Here, old sport, come along and see what you think aboutthis for a devil box."
As he spoke, he led the negro towards the Victrola, but at the words"devil box" the black's eyes took on a frightened look and he drewback.
"Oh, it's all right!" Rawlins assured him, "it won't bite."
Still hesitating, but somewhat reassured by the diver's tones, andputting on a brave front, Jules accompanied Rawlins and stood silentlywatching as the latter wound up the machine, placed a record under theneedle and set it in motion. But as the first sounds of a singer'svoice burst from the horn, Jules uttered a frightened yell and leapedaway.
Every one burst into a hearty roar of laughter and the negro, with ahasty terrified glance about, halted in his precipitate retreat,ashamed to exhibit his fear before the white men. Then, with the odd,quizzical, half-puzzled, half-frightened and wholly wonderingexpression of an ape, he leaned forward, turning his head first to oneside and then the other as he listened to the song, peering at themahogany cabinet as if expecting to see the hidden singer step out atany moment. But finding that nothing happened and that the othersseemed in no dread of the affair, he drew nearer and nearer,absolutely fascinated by this new form of witchcraft. Never in hislife had he beheld a phonograph, and while he realized that the"Bekes," as he called the whites, were capable of performing almostany miracle or of making most marvelous and incomprehensible things,yet this, he was sure, was something quite beyond their power and mustbe some most powerful form of Obeah. But evidently the "devil" orwhatever it contained was most securely imprisoned and compelled toserve the white men, and when he saw that Sam was not in the leastafraid, and even picked up and examined the flat, round objects thatRawlins drew from the cabinet, he decided that this particular devilwas even harmless to men of his own color. Here indeed was a treasure.With this he would be truly a king and he could imagine what asensation he would create when, in the light of the Voodoo fire, heordered the devil in the box to sing and talk and produce music.
His fears had now completely vanished and, drawing close to theinstrument, he stood absolutely fascinated as Rawlins placed recordafter record in the machine.
"Tell him to try it himself, Sam," said Rawlins, and very reluctantlyand gingerly Jules obeyed Sam's instructions, wound the crank, placeda record, and uttered a yell of mingled triumph and delight as hefound the imprisoned devil obeyed him as readily as it did theAmerican.
"Well, he's all set up for life," laughed Rawlins. "All the rest ofthe whole shooting match can go to blazes as far as he's concerned.He'll wear the blamed thing out making it work overtime. But let's begoing. Sam, tell Jules he and his bunch'll have to show us the way outof here. I'm all twisted and couldn't find the bay in a month ofSundays."
But Jules absolutely refused to leave. He had no intention of givinghis new acquisition any opportunity of getting away and, as theAmericans departed, following the other negroes whom Jules had orderedto guide them to the bay, the old fellow was squatting on his haunchesat the mouth of the cavern, a broad grin on his wrinkled black facewhile, from within, came the strains of the overture from Faust.
"Pretty good ringer for old Mephisto himself!" chuckled Rawlins, asthey scrambled down the hill towards the boats.
Pushing through the water plants and into the narrow channel, thecanoe, followed by the boat, moved rapidly among the mangroves. Soon awider waterway was reached, and for a time this was followed, thenthey slipped into a small lagoon completely encircled by an apparentlyimpenetrable barrier of trees, but, without hesitation, the negroesheaded their craft across the little lake. With swinging strokes oftheir paddles they urged their craft forwards with redoubled speed andthen, with a sharp cry of warning to the white men behind them, theycrouched low in their dug-out. Straight for the dense foliage shot thecanoe, there was a swaying of low-growing branches, the negroes' craftdisappeared from sight and the next instant the boat had slippedthrough the screen of leaves and was floating on open water in a dark,tunnel-like passage through the trees. Just ahead was the canoe, withthe negroes again paddling forward.
"Well I'll be hanged!" cried Rawlins, "so this is their front gate,eh? Wonder how the dickens they ever found it!"
Straight as a canal, the channel led and five minutes later a secondwall of foliage blocked the way. But, as before, the canoe was urgedahead and crashed through the barrier followed by the boat. As thelast branches swayed back into place behind them, the boys and theircompanions glanced about in surprise. They were floating upon thebroad waters of the bay; an unbroken line of close-growing treeswithout a trace of opening stretched in their rear and far ahead theycould see the row of palms upon the bar which marked the hiding placeof their submarine.
"Well, I'll be shot!" cried Rawlins, as he swept his eyes about."We've passed this place a dozen times and never knew it. No wonder wecouldn't find their hang-out. Why, I thought that was all solid land!"
A moment later they were pulling, across the open bay. The Martinicanshad vanished as if by magic in the dark green foliage and two milesaway were their waiting friends.
Half an hour afterwards they were clambering aboard their sub-seacraft and regaling the amazed and wondering Henderson with the storyof their adventures, their discoveries and the escape of the men,while below, the quartermaster, surrounded by his mates, was relatinga yarn which put the Arabian Nights to shame.
"All gold an' jools b' cripes!" he declared. "With a gran' pianner an'a funnygraf an' electric lights. Aw, I ain't yarnin', ye can ask Mr.Rawlins--an' statooary like them youse sees up to the art muse'ms, an'velvet curtains. Soak me if 'twan't a reg'lar joint! Fit fer a kingthat's what 'twas, an' I'll be blowed if Mr. Pauling didn't up an'give the whole bloomin' outfit to a bunch o' wild Frenchy niggers!Struck me fair 'tween wind and water to hear him a-doin' of it! Blowme if it didn't, an' then up an' tol' 'em to burn the blessed placeafter they was done lootin' of it! But say! You'd 'a' bust your-sel'slaffin to a-seen that old gazooks of a nigger a-squattin' on his blackhams in his ragged dungarees
a-grinnin' like a bloomin gorilla an'a-listenin' to gran' opery!"
"Aw, stow it, Bill!" yawned one of the engineers. "Tell that gaff tothe marines. Why didn't ye cop some o' them things if they was there?"
The quartermaster snorted. "I aint no bloody thief o' a greasy wiper!"he replied contemptuously. "Think I'd a-got myself in Dutch bya-swipin' stuff under Mr. Pauling's nose? But jes' the same I didbring along a bit o' a sooveeneer. Look a-here, you sons o' seacooks!" Fumbling in his blouse, the quartermaster drew forth aglittering object and placed it on the mess table triumphantly.
"Holy mackerel! Stow me if 'taint a ring!" exclaimed one of the men."An' a reg'lar shiner in it! What youse goin' to do with it, mate?Give it to your best girl?"
"None o' your business," retorted the quartermaster pocketing thering. "An' mind youse don' go blowin' the gaff neither. I picked herup 'longside o' one o' the beds an' none the wiser. Might as well be ahavin' it as one o' them black monkeys."
While Bill was thus entertaining the crew, the boys and their friendson deck were still talking, retelling their stories, putting andanswering innumerable questions and gradually imparting a coherentaccount of all that had transpired to Mr. Henderson.
Presently Rawlins grasped Tom's arm and pointed towards the hillsacross the bay.
"Look there!" he exclaimed. "There goes the last of the Panjandrum'spalace!"
The others turned at the diver's words and saw a thick column of smokerising in curling blue clouds against the green jungle.
"Guess old Jules made quick work of looting it." continued Rawlins."Say, I can just see the old boy and his mates dancing and prancingaround to the music of that phonograph and watching the place go up insmoke. Must do their hearts good! Wonder if they'll learn to playbilliards or hammer jazz music out of that piano!"
"Well, let's get down to business," suggested Mr. Pauling, when thelaughter over Rawlins' quaint conceit had subsided. "I suppose we'dbetter notify Disbrow and leave here. No use of delaying longer. Thetrail is blind now."
"I vote we all turn in early and light out to-morrow morning,"suggested the diver. "I'm dead tired myself and the boys must be allin. They haven't slept since night before last, you know, and it'spretty near sundown now. How about grub, too?"
This seemed the wisest plan, and as Bancroft sat at his instrumentsrapidly sending a cipher message to the destroyer the steward served abelated but hearty meal.
"He's received the message, Sir," announced the operator as he joinedthe others. "Here's his reply."
"H-m-m!" said Mr. Pauling, as he glanced over the apparentlymeaningless figures and letters. "He'll stand in and wait for us inthe morning. Hasn't seen any signs of a sub, or anything suspicious."
Now that their appetites were satisfied and the excitement was overall realized how tired, exhausted and sleepy they were and gladlysought their bunks at an early hour.
It seemed to Rawlins that he had scarcely closed his eyes when heawoke with a start, the sound of a shout still ringing in his ears.For a brief instant he thought he had been dreaming and then, as thecry again echoed through the night, he realized it was no dream, thatsomething was amiss, and wide awake leaped to the floor.
The next instant he uttered a yell of shock and surprise. Instead oflanding on the rubber mat his feet had plunged into cold water!
"Get up! Wake! Hustle!" he screamed at Bancroft who occupied the otherbunk. "The boat's full of water!"
Without waiting, he dashed from the room, shouting and yelling,switching on lights and starting the alarm gong as he plunged,splashing, through the water that covered the steel plates of thefloors.
Instantly all was in an uproar. Hoarse shouts and cries came from thecrews' quarters. The boys, with frightened faces and still rubbingdazed and sleep-filled eyes, rushed from their cabin with Mr. Paulingand Mr. Henderson at their heels and through the din of the clanginggong, the excited questions and warning shouts, Rawlins, with thequartermaster by his side, hustled the men and boys up the ladder tothe deck, checking them off one by one as they passed.
"All up?" demanded Rawlins as a drowsy oiler stumbled through thefast-rising water to the foot of the ladder.
"Aye, aye, Sir!" responded the old sailor. "Better be gettin' aloft,Sir."
The water was now up to the men's hips and as they reached the outerair Rawlins and the quartermaster found the waves lapping the edges ofthe deck. But perfect order prevailed. The two boats were manned andready and as Rawlins and the sailor sprang into them the men bent tothe oars and a few moments later the boats' keels grated on the sandbeach under the ghostly palms.
"I'll say we're lucky!" were Rawlins first words. "Wonder what inblazes burst loose!"
But no one could offer an explanation. The man who had been on watchand whose cry had roused Rawlins declared that the first thing he hadnoticed had been that the submarine was settling. The engineersinsisted that no sea-cock or valve had been left open. There had beenno blow, shock or explosion and, huddled together on the beach,shivering and shaken, the men and the boys waited for the dawn.Presently a fire was started and the survivors, glad of its warmth inthe chill night air, gathered close about it, discussing the disaster,surmising as to its cause and thanking their stars that they had allescaped and that help was not far away.
"If we don't turn up, Disbrow will suspect something is wrong and senda boat in," declared Mr. Pauling. "We won't have to wait here manyhours."
"Perhaps we could call him," suggested Mr. Henderson. "Are those radioinstruments still in the boats?"
"One is." replied Rawlins. "I noticed it as we came ashore."
"But we haven't any aerial," said Tom. "The resonance coil was onboard the submarine."
"I don't think it matters," his father assured him. "Disbrow's sure toinvestigate."
"For that matter, we can row out and meet them," suggested Rawlins."We've got perfectly good boats."
"Of course," agreed Mr. Henderson, "although it would be more riskythan waiting here. Disbrow might not sight us and then we'd be worseoff."
"Yes, we'll wait here a reasonable time at any rate," declared Mr.Pauling, "Ah, I believe it's getting lighter."
Very soon the eastern sky grew bright and presently there was enoughlight to distinguish surrounding objects clearly.
"There she is!" exclaimed Rawlins, pointing towards the spot wheretheir submarine had been moored. "Didn't go clear under. Too shallowfor her."
Above the water, the top of the submarine's conning tower was visiblewith the slender aerial wires faintly discernible in the soft morninglight.
"We're all right!" declared the diver. "We can get that aerial off thesub, rig it up between a couple of these palms and get the destroyerhere in double quick time. But I _would_ like to know what sunkthe old tub."
Acting on Rawlins' suggestion, the boats rowed over to the wreck andthe men busied themselves stripping the aerial from the submarine. Bythe time this was accomplished it was broad daylight and the warm sunwas shining brightly upon the water and beach.
"Sam," said Rawlins, turning to the Bahaman who, up to his waist inwater on the submarine's deck, was unfastening a wire. "What do youthink of diving down and having a look around. I'm blamed anxious toknow how the old sub got full of water."
"All right, Chief," grinned the negro, dropping the wire and strippingoff his scanty garments. "Ah'll mos' surely ascertain, Chief."
The next instant he had plunged off the deck and all waitedexpectantly for his reappearance. After what seemed a tremendouslylong interval his wooly head bobbed up close to the stern and shakingthe water from his eyes he swam easily to the submerged deck andpulled himself up.
"Tha's nothin' wrong this side, Chief," he announced as he recoveredhis breath. "Ah'll go down tha' other side an' have a look."
Presently he rose, felt his way along the deck with the water to hisarmpits and reaching a point near the bow again dove.
Again he reappeared near the stern and the satisfied grin upon hisface assured Rawlins that he had
news.
"Yaas, Sir!" he announced as he drew himself onto the boat. "Ah foun'it, Chief. Tha' a big hole aft, Chief. Looks like it been bored intha' plates, Chief."
"Well, what in thunder!" cried Rawlins. "Come on, Sam, I'm going tohave a look. Show me where 'tis. I'm no fish like you, but I can staydown long enough for that."
Poising himself on the boat's thwart with Sam beside him, Rawlinswaited for the word and together the two figures, one white, oneblack, plunged into the sea.
Presently the two heads bobbed up side by side and breathing hardRawlins scrambled into the boat.
"I'll say it's bored!" he exclaimed. "Burned! Cut clean through withan acetylene torch!"
The others fairly gasped with amazement.
"But how _could_ any one burn a hole through steel,--underwater?" cried Tom.
"Easy!" retorted Rawlins. "A good torch'll burn as well under water asin air. Used right along by divers. It's those blasted, dumbfoozled'reds'! I can see it all now. They sneaked down here in that littlesub of theirs, laid on the bottom, sent a diver out with a torch andburned the hole. Thought they'd drown us like rats in a trap--blametheir dirty hides!"
"By jove! it doesn't seem possible," declared Mr. Pauling. "I'msurprised, they----"
His words were cut short by a shout from Rawlins. "Look there!" hefairly screamed, leaping up, and pointing towards the bay. "Look at'em! The low down, sneaking swine!"
All turned instantly towards the bay and at the sight which greetedthem jaws gaped, eyes grew round with wonder and hoarse exclamationsof anger, amazement and chagrin arose from a dozen throats.
Traveling swiftly seaward through the calm water was a smallsubmarine, her deck just awash, and standing upon her superstructureand waving their hands in derisive farewell were two men. One washeavily built with a huge red beard, the other slender, immaculate inwhite flannels and with a stiffly upturned, iron-gray mustache.
The next moment they disappeared in the hatch. An instant later onlythe conning tower showed above the water and ere the amazed onlookerscould recover from their astonishment the placid bay stretchedunbroken even by a ripple to the distant shores.
Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson exchanged rapid glances.
"It was!" muttered Mr. Pauling in a low voice.
The other nodded. "Absolutely!" he rejoined.
Rawlins, who for once had been rendered absolutely speechless withsurprise, anger and chagrin now found his voice.
"Lively, men!" he shouted. "Get that aerial up quick! We'll nab thosedevils yet! Get a message to Disbrow to go for 'em! Drop depth bombsor anything else! He can't be far off."
At his bidding, thoroughly aroused to the necessity for action, themen fell to work. Hastily the antennae from the submarine was rushedashore. Up the palms scrambled Sam and a sailor and in an incrediblyshort space of time the slender wires were stretched between thelopped-off tops of the lofty trees and the boys adjusted theirinstruments. Excitedly they called the destroyer and presently sharp,and clear, came back the answering call.
"Tell him to watch for a sub," ordered Mr. Pauling. "Don't bother overcipher. Give it to them in English. Tell him she's just slipped out.If he sights her sink her, disable her, anything! Drop depth bombs ifnecessary!"
Then, as the boys hurriedly and excitedly flashed these orders to thedestroyer and the "dee dee dee dah dee" ("we understand") came back,Mr. Pauling continued. "Now tell him our sub has sunk. Have him send acutter for us and tell him to hustle."
Slowly the minutes slipped by. Breathlessly, filled with excitement,those upon the beach beneath the palms listened, expecting each momentto hear the distant boom of a gun, the low rumbling roar of anexploding depth bomb. But no sound broke the low swish of the palmfronds and the soft lapping of the waves upon the sand.
An hour went by and then, from the direction of the bay, came thefaint staccato beat of a motor's exhaust and a moment later a trimnavy cutter came into view. Shouting and waving their hands, thoseupon the beach attracted the cutter's attention, it spun around, cameswiftly towards them and ten minutes later was headed seaward leavingthe sunken submarine deserted and alone.
A mile or two offshore, steaming in great circles, was the lean, graydestroyer and as those in the cutter ran up the gangway and gained thedecks Disbrow met them.
"Seen anything of that sub!" demanded Mr. Pauling, ignoring theofficer's cheery greeting.
"Not a sign," declared the commander. "Had men aloft and been swingingin circles ever since we got your message. Haven't sighted a craft ofany sort since daylight. Only thing we've seen was an old Dutch trampover by Trade Wind Cay."
Rawlins, who had just reached the deck, sprang forward.
"Dutch tramp!" he cried. "What did she look like? Did you board her?"
"Of course not!" replied Disbrow icily. "Why should we? Ordinary tramppainted pea-soup color with bands two blue and one yellow, on herfunnel."
"I'll say she's not an ordinary tramp!" exclaimed the diver. "If sheis, what the blazes is she hangin' around there for? She was there aweek ago--we saw her--and Dutch tramps or any other tramps don't hangaround Trade Wind Cay for a week! Rotten luck you didn't board her!"
"Humph!" snorted Disbrow. "I'd get myself in a pretty mess if Iboarded every steamer I saw. It's none of my business if a Dutchmanwants to kill time cruising about here. The sea's free."
"Yes, and I'm beginning to think some naval men are blamed idiots!"cried Rawlins, overcome with excitement. "I know one that boarded asquare-head fishing smack and didn't think 'twas any of his businessbecause she was a Bahaman schooner. Darned near finished us on accountof it, too!"
The commander flushed scarlet. "If you're going to insult me!" hebegan; but Mr. Pauling interposed.
"Here, here, boys!" he exclaimed. "Don't get excited. We all makemistakes and we're dealing with most elusive and resourcefulscoundrels. Rawlins has a hunch of some sort, Disbrow, and his hunchesare usually, right. Now what it is, Rawlins? The sooner we get to anunderstanding the quicker we can act."
"Sorry, old man!" apologized the diver, extending his hand to Disbrowwho instantly grasped it. "Was a bit jumpy, I guess. But that tramp'sgot to be overhauled. I've an all-fired hunch she's part of the game.They deserted a sub once and took to a schooner and I'll bet my lastdollar to a plugged cent that that tramp's just waiting for 'em now."
Disbrow wheeled and gave a crisp order and the next moment thedestroyer, throbbing and shaking like a leaf, a huge wave rising highabove her sharp bows, was tearing like an express train towards TradeWind Cay.
As they neared the little islet and rounded its jutting point, Rawlinsgave a cheer. Wallowing slowly along, her rust-streaked sides risingand falling to the ocean swell, was the tramp, with the flag of theNetherlands fluttering at her stern and the blue and yellow stripesplainly visible on her funnels.
Up to the destroyer's mast fluttered a string of bunting, but theDutchman paid not the slightest heed, continuing placidly on hiscourse.
"Confound him!" exploded Rawlins. "Doesn't mean to stop, eh?"
"Run alongside and hail him," quietly ordered Mr. Pauling. "I'll takeall responsibility if there's any trouble. But we'll board that chapif we have to fire on him."
There was no need of any such drastic measures, however. As thedestroyer came near and Disbrow's hail through the megaphone reachedthose upon the tramp, a huge, burly figure appeared upon the bridge,waved an arm in assent and a moment later the ill-kept vessel laymotionless, as the cutter from the destroyer bobbed alongside. Overthe tramp's wall-like sides dangled a rope ladder and followed byRawlins and Mr. Pauling a white clad ensign ran nimbly up and leapedover the battered iron rails.
At the break of the bridge-deck the ponderous man lounged upon therail awaiting them, a big pipe projecting from an enormous yellowmustache, a weather-beaten cap upon his tow-colored hair and greasy,faded blue garments hanging loosely on his immensely fat figure.Placidly, with pale, expressionless blue eyes, he watched the officerand the civilians approach and as the
y drew near slowly withdrew thepipe from his mouth.
"Vat you vellers vant?" he demanded in thick greasy tones. "Vat voryou sthob mine shib?"
The boyish ensign touched his cap. "Compliments of Commander Disbrow,Sir," he announced. "His orders are to have a look at your papers andsearch the ship if we think necessary. Are you the captain?"
The Dutchman drew himself up in what was a ludicrous attempt atdignity. "Yah, me der gapdain!" he rumbled. "But vat de deffil youvellers link? Dondt you know dot der var vas over? Vat vor you vant tosee mine babers, eh?"
"Just as a matter of form, Captain," replied the ensign crisply."Won't take a minute."
For a space, the fat skipper eyed the other suspiciously. "Ach! Allright," he exclaimed at last. "Gum on! Dis vay an' pe tarn qvick apoutid!"
Rolling like a barge in a gale, the Dutchman led the way across thedeck and into his disorderly cabin under the bridge. Then, rummagingamong papers and letters, he drew out a package snapped together withrubber bands and handed it to the ensign.
"Seem to be all right," commented Mr. Pauling, as he glanced over theofficer's shoulder with Rawlins beside him. "'Steamship _VanDoerck_, 11,345 tons, general cargo, Rotterdam for St. Thomas,Hirschfelt, master and owner.' Don't see anything suspicious there,Rawlins. Last cleared from Curacao. Health and port papers O. K. Guessyour hunch was wrong this time."
Rawlins scratched his head and looked sheepish, but there was still aquestioning, puzzled expression in his eyes. "Maybe," he admitted,"but I'd like to have a look at his crew. Just ask him to line 'em upon deck, Ensign."
At first, the Dutchman vehemently objected, but finally, with amuttered curse in his native tongue at the pigheadedness of theYankees, he ordered his second officer to summon all hands on deck.
Carefully Rawlins, Mr. Pauling and the ensign went along the line ofdirty faces, checking them off by name in accordance with the ship'spapers, but they were all there, no more, no less.
"No use looking under hatches," declared the ensign who began to feelthat he had made a fool of himself. "They haven't been up for a week,I'll swear." Then, as an afterthought, he added sarcastically, "Don'tsuppose you'd care to search the engine room and bunkers?"
"I'll say I will!" exclaimed Rawlins, and without another word hurriedaft.
A few minutes later he reappeared, grimy, perspiring and greasy.
"Nothing doing there!" he announced. "Say, ask the old boy what he'sbeen hanging around here a week for."
Reluctantly the ensign put the question.
"None of your tamt pizness!" replied the skipper. "Put id's no segret.Ve drobt a sbar offerboard in der night an ve been hunding vor id. Vevasn't here vor a veek--id vas night before ladst ve gum pack."
Rawlins raised his eyebrows. "All right, Ensign," he said. "Guess it'sa false alarm. Might as well be going."
"Sorry to have troubled you, Captain," said the ensign, touching hiscap. "Expect you're not the ship we were looking for."
The skipper's only reply was a low, rumbling bellow from his chest andstumping up the ladder to the bridge he jerked the bell for "standby."
No sooner were the boarding party again on the destroyer than Rawlinsbeckoned Mr. Pauling aside.
"You may think I'm an ass, Mr. Pauling," remarked the diver. "Butthere's something crooked about that Dutchman. He's a blamed liar inthe first place, because you know as well as I do he was here six daysago. In the second place, can you imagine wasting even two dayssteaming along and hunting for a lost spar, and how the blazes couldhe lose a spar? The sea's been like glass."
Mr. Pauling smiled. "You're unduly suspicious, Rawlins," he declared."I admit the tramp was here a week ago and we saw her, but he may havegone on and then come back two days ago searching for a spar or he mayhave lied just because he wouldn't give us the satisfaction of tellingus his business. No, I don't think there's anything wrong with him. Ifyou suspect every ship we see we'll have our hands full and everynation in the world will be after our scalps."
"Well, Mr. Pauling," replied Rawlins, "I hope you won't be insulted ifI say so and I don't mean it that way; but you're no seaman and youmay be a mighty good detective on land, but you're not when aboardship. That old whale of a Dutchy has been anchored there and hasn'tbeen hunting for a blamed thing! And what's more, he hasn't been inCuracao for a year!"
"What?" exclaimed Mr. Pauling. "How do you know? Explain yourself,Rawlins."
"If that cockey little ensign hadn't been so stuck on himself, he'dhave noticed it," declared the diver. "Why, the anchor chains werethick with wet mud, the steam winch was still hot, there was mud andwater on deck and some of the crew had fresh mud on their jumpers.What's more, the fires in her furnaces hadn't been going an hour.They'd been banked and the ashes were still on the plates where they'dbeen raked out. That old hooker hadn't been under way half an hourwhen we came up. And now how do I know she hadn't been at Curacao?I'll tell you. The papers looked all right, I'll admit--Curacao stampsand signatures and everything O. K. But they were dead crooked, I'llsay! They were a whole year old!"
"Jove!" ejaculated Mr. Pauling, beginning to be convinced that Rawlinshad grounds for his suspicions. "How do you know? I saw nothingwrong."
Rawlins chuckled. "No, and the old guy didn't expect you would. He orhis friends are darned clever birds, but they slipped up on thosepapers. They'd changed the date under the signatures, but they forgotabout the stamps--they were canceled with a rubber stamp and the datewas '21 not '22!"
"Rawlins!" cried Mr. Pauling. "I'll take it all back! You're awonder--told you you should be in the Service. What's your idea?"
"Well, I don't know just where the Dutchy comes in with those reds,"admitted Rawlins, "but I'll bet they're cahoots somehow. I think we'dbetter follow the boys' motto--hear everything, see everything and saynothing and keep the other fellow guessing--I'd suggest we trail theold porpoise and see if he _does_ go to St. Thomas. If he does,we'll bob up there too. I'm ready to follow along his wake if hewallows round the world, but St. Thomas is an American port and we cando pretty near anything we like there. If we hang around we may get aline on something. We've had pretty good luck all together and I'vegot a hunch we're 'hot', as they used to say when we played hunt thethimble."
A few moments later Mr. Pauling was speaking to the commander in theprivacy of the latter's cabin.
"You'll make for St. Thomas, Disbrow," he said. "Keep that trampwithin sight, but don't let her think we're following her. No, don'task questions, I don't really know myself. Rawlins has a hunch, and sofar his hunches have come mighty near being right. I'm backing them tothe limit."
THE END
By A. HYATT VERRILL
THE RADIO DETECTIVES THE RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA THE RADIO DETECTIVES SOUTHWARD BOUND THE RADIO DETECTIVES IN THE JUNGLE THE DEEP SEA HUNTERS THE BOOK OF THE MOTOR BOAT ISLES OF SPICE AND PALM
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