CHAPTER XV.
THE SERGEANT'S VOW.
"Do you know what I believe, Buddy," said Billy to his chum, while theywere having a little quiet discussion of their own about the wayStrogoff had been misled; "I believe, sure and certain, that it was aphony crew on the collier--not a man jack of them regularly on the job."
"Report at once, pard, and get your badge," laughingly urged Henri. "Whydon't you tell it to the sergeant?"
"I'm not taking any chance of getting on his toes just now," was Billy'sreply, shaking his head.
Strogoff, though somewhat crestfallen over the collapse of his eagerlyconceived plan to put the irons on the adroit Ricker and the lesserlights with him, had lost none of the bulldog tenacity of purpose whichcharacterized his every movement.
"I will yet put every last one of them against the wall," he earnestlyvowed; "the chief by this time has received my wire, and that coal boatwill be a marked craft wherever it goes. Strange, though," he continued,"that the skipper should have been so indifferent as to inspection, whenhe well knew what he would get if caught at deception."
Billy tipped a significant wink to Henri.
The sergeant, having obtained positive assurance that no man unaccountedfor had either boarded or left the transport from start to finish of itspassage, agreed to the proposal of Captain Walki to immediately returnto Warsaw, and there frame a new course of action.
With clearing sky and no countering winds, the young pilots made themost of the remaining hours of daylight, and there was safe landing inWarsaw while the night was yet young.
Strogoff's reception at police headquarters was not such as rejoiced hissoul--the chief had a piece of news for him that had stunning effect.
The regular master and crew of the collier, No. 49 in the shippingrecord, the very vessel upon which the sergeant had been hoodwinked,were even now still in the slow recovery stage from drugging. Only thenight before the whole seven, captain, mate, engineer and deck men, hadbeen found deep asleep in a dinghy, drifting about the harbor.
"You seem to be losing your grip, Strogoff," snapped the chief in thatsteely voice of his.
The sergeant hung his head for a minute, and then, advancing, looked hischief straight in the eyes.
"For every inch I have gained in unearthing the spy den in our midst,sir, I have risked again and again that precious possession called life,and while I may have proved for the once a dull blade against overlykeen ones, it is no sign that I am through."
"Well, well, Strogoff," hedged the chief, "they have had a fall out ofyou; that cannot be denied, but, perhaps, after all, you are notthrough. The credit of locating the nest is still yours, and you shallhave a free hand to complete the work."
"Thank you kindly, sir;" there was renewed vigor in the tone and mannerof the sergeant; "may I ask what became of the coal boat that was in theoffing when I left?"
"With the discovery of the stupefied sailors, and their identityestablished, the harbor patrols were put to work, but no trace of thevessel was found along the city front."
"No question, then, sir, but that she immediately weighed anchor andmade off down stream--it was not up, I assure you, for I had my glass onthe river from the time we started from Vloclavek."
"That was the theory upon which we acted, sergeant; two dispatch boatshave already taken up the chase."
"And me not in the forefront," cried Strogoff, sounding a note ofdisappointment.
"You still have the aeroplane route," suggested the chief.
The sergeant brightened at this. "But no use of a blind run," he sighed;"in the dark we might overrun a dozen boats like the collier, and neverknow it."
"Get your boy wonders and start as soon as you can see, then."
"That is just what I will do, chief, and I would like to have Lowiezassigned with me."
"Just the man, if there is any fancy shooting to be done," agreed thechief.
"It might come to that," grimly observed Strogoff.
At sunup the Young Aeroplane Scouts had their second early call withinthree days.
"We haven't signed up with the police for the league season, have we?"inquired Billy, with a slight touch of rebellion.
"They have the colonel's orders back of their request," explained theaviation chief, "and the officer with the wide front positively declaresthat nobody will suit but the pair I see before me. Climb out, boys, andhustle, or he is likely to have a fit."
"Some lively vacation this, eh, Billy?"
Billy did not catch Henri's remark, for he was over ears in a basin ofice-cold water.
"I had intended to take a peep behind the picture and see if the belt isthere all right," said Billy, as they passed out of the mess hall in thedirection of the hangars.
"No need," replied his chum; "nobody ever touches that wall relic, andStanny's girdle is safe."
Henri's new flying partner, Lowiez, was of swarthy type, and with thekeenest pair of black eyes the boy had ever seen over a human nose. Theoutside pockets of his greatcoat bulged with the heft of two heavyrevolvers, and if the carrier should have shown a hesitancy in usingthem, if occasion served, a surprise would be coming to any person whohad sized them up.
It might also be stated that Officer Strogoff, with all his cares andstrenuous activities, had lost no flesh overnight.
The young aviators had not been given any advance notice of just wherethis day's journey was expected to take them; they only knew that therewas to be a beginning. The end was not until they reached it.
Strogoff was not inclined to be bubbling with information, either, thiscrisp morning. Following the boys' usual careful inspection of theflying machines, the startling words were simply: "Down the river."Additional orders were to fly low.
Having no trouble to compass a course, merely to follow the flow of thebroad Vistula, the pilots were completely at ease. Under them were thefamous No. 3's, the finest military biplanes, in their opinion, thatever crossed the country.
In the current below could be seen at intervals all sorts of steam andsailing craft, iron-sided or slab-sided, modern and ancient, but thespace-filling observer in Billy's biplane, with constant level of fieldglasses, had no disposition to waste a word upon any of them.
A certain slow-moving tub, with "49" showing at the beam, would havecaused lung expansion for the heavyweight, but that particular brand ofboat had yet to be discovered.
It was 10:20 o'clock by Billy's watch when a smart tap on the shoulderroused him from some day dream of far-off Bangor or Boston, and made himset a little tighter grip on the steering wheel.
At the junction of the Vistula and one of the numerous smaller riversemptying into the big channel, several little dispatch boats werechugging around a large freighter, plowing northward. The hulk waseasing its way at the challenge of the mosquito fleet.
"To the ground," commanded the sergeant, when he had secured theattention of the pilot.
Billy nicely figured a stop on the river bank within a stone's throw ofthe watercraft argument. Henri followed suit with equal exactness ofplacing.
Megaphoning through the hollow of his joined hands, Strogoff brought oneof the light draught dispatch boats close to the shore.
A gangplank bridged the way to the deck, and the big policeman lumberedaboard in a hurry.
"What's the row?"
The officer in command of the boat, detailed from the river patrol,explained to Strogoff that before passing the mouths of any of thetributary rivers in the course down, they had been holding up each andevery north-bound vessel for the purpose of inquiry. In every instancebut this one of the freighter, Collier No. 49 had been reported.
"My opinion, sergeant, is that right here the coal tub dodged out ofthis channel. The master of the freighter has not spoken a single craftof collier build below this point."
Strogoff thought a minute. "I am not going to put all of my eggs in onebasket this time," he finally observed, "no matter how fair thequotation
s. Two of your boats may proceed, and two are to follow me upthis tributary."
Leaving to the officer addressed the duty of arranging details of theplan, the sergeant regained the river bank and advised the pilots of thenew course of the biplanes.
Hardly twenty-five miles had been traversed, when the aviation party,even as one man, caught sight of a hull at a dead standstill in thesluggish stream. The bow of the big boat listed in a way to suggest thatit had been stranded on a sand or mud bar. There was no sign of life onher decks.
Strogoff shouted an order to descend, and the pilots circled in promptendeavor to land as near as possible to the apparent derelict. No chancewhatever for a deck fall on this old hunker with its topside barrier ofcrowding masts.
Once on the ground, Strogoff and Lowiez cast about for a way to reachthe vessel, bow-ended in an extensive marsh between the shore and riverchannel.
It was not long before Lowiez discovered in the drift, a hundred yardsor so downstream, one of the ship's boats, by means of which, no doubt,the bogus crew had landed from the stolen craft. The hulk had beeninstantly identified at closer range as the collier sought for--"49"showing at the stern.
If either of the policemen feared ambush on the hunker, it was notapparent in their manner of proceeding, except that Lowiez, thepronounced "fancy shot," kept both hands in his overcoat pockets whilethe stout sergeant volunteered to pole the skiff out to the strandedcollier.
Billy and Henri watched them from a perch on a pile of driftwood.
"I can't see to save my neck," observed the Bangor boy, "why that Rickercrowd, with all their daring and cunning, didn't paint a new number onthe collier, change the papers to suit, and bluff their way nearer tothe Austrian border before they shook the ship."
"For the reason," argued Henri, "that the live-brained leader countedupon aeroplane pursuit and no chance in the world to escape capture onthe open waterway."
"There's something in that, come to think of it," admitted Billy, "butthere is also some pretty hard sledding ahead of them in the bleakcountry back of us," indicating by an overshoulder look at the greatbarrens stretching away to the horizon.
"All the more room to hide," observed Henri.
"And to starve and freeze," added his chum.
They could see the two policemen moving about the upper deck of thecollier, but the fact that their search was soundless made it plain tothe watchers that it was a sure thing that the hull had been deserted.
Now in the distance could be heard the chug, chug of the fast-comingdispatch boats.
As they finally drew alongside the stranded vessel, Strogoff and hiscomrade lowered themselves by the side chains to the deck of the firstcomer, which then turned toward the shore.
The boys were wondering what the next move would be.
The answer was embodied in a pair of long, sinuous shapes, tawny-hidedand slather-jawed, sleepily stretched full length in the cuddyhouse ofthe little craft.
The fugitives were to be trailed across the steppes by Siberianbloodhounds!
Our Young Aeroplane Scouts in Russia; or, Lost on the Frozen Steppes Page 15
