CHAPTER IX
THE SUBMARINE HARBOR
It was not long after the almost miraculous escape of Elaine and myselffrom the blowing up of the bridge on the shore road that Del Marreturned from his mysterious mission which had, apparently, taken himactually down to the bottom of the sea.
The panel in the wall of his library opened and in the still drippingsubmarine suit, holding under his arm the weird helmet, Del Marentered. No sooner had he begun to remove his wet diving-suit than theman who had signalled with the heliograph that we had found Del Mar'smessage from "below," whatever that might mean, entered the house andwas announced by the valet.
"Let him come in immediately," ordered Del Mar, placing his suit in acloset. Then to the man, as he entered, he said, "Well, what's new?"
"Quite a bit," returned the man, frowning still over Elaine'saccidental discovery of the under-water communication. "The Dodge girlhappened to pick up one of the tubes with a message just after you wentdown. I tried to get her by blowing up the bridge, but it didn't work,somehow."
"We'll have to silence her," remarked Del Mar angrily with a sinisterfrown. "You stay here and wait for orders."
A moment later he made his way down to a private dock on his groundsand jumped aboard a trim little speed boat moored there. He started themotor and off the boat feathered in a cloud of spray.
It was only a moment by water before he reached the Dodge dock. Therehe tied his boat and hurried up the dock.
. . . . . . .
Elaine and I arrived home without any further experiences after ourhairbreadth escape from the explosion at the bridge.
We were in doubt at first, however, just what to do about themysterious message which we had picked up in the harbor.
"Really, Walter," remarked Elaine, after we had considered the matterfor some time, "I think we ought to send that message to the governmentat Washington."
Already she had seated herself at her desk and began to write, while Iexamined the metal tube and the note again.
"There," she said at length, handing me the note she had written. "Howdoes that sound?"
I read it while she addressed the envelope. "Very good," I replied,handing it back.
She folded it and shoved it into the envelope on which she had written:
Chief, Secret Service, Washington, D. C.
I was studying the address, wondering whether this was just the thingto do, when Elaine decided the matter by energetically ringing the bellfor Jennings.
"Post that, Jennings, please," she directed.
The butler bowed just as the door-bell rang. He turned to go.
"Just a minute," I interrupted. "I think perhaps I'd better mail itmyself, after all."
He handed me the letter and went out.
"Yes, Walter," agreed Elaine, "that would be better. Register it, too."
"How do you do?" greeted a suave voice.
It was Del Mar. As he passed me to speak to Elaine, apparently byaccident, he knocked the letter from my hand.
"I beg your pardon," he apologized, quickly stooping and picking it up.
Though he managed to read the address, he maintained his composure andhanded the letter back to me. I started to go out, when Elaine calledto me.
"Excuse me just a moment, Mr. Del Mar?" she queried, accompanying meout on the porch.
Already a saddle horse had been brought around for me.
"Perhaps you'd better put a special delivery stamp on it, too, Walter,"she added, walking along with me. "And be very careful."
"I will," I promised, as I rode off.
Del Mar, alone, seized the opportunity to go over quietly to thetelephone. It was the work of only a moment to call up his bungalowwhere the emissary who had placed the submarine bell was waiting fororders. Quickly Del Mar whispered his instructions which the man took,and hung up the receiver.
"I hope you'll pardon me," said Elaine, entering just as Del Mar leftthe telephone. "Mr. Jameson was going into town and I had a number oflittle things I wanted him to do. Won't you sit down?"
They chatted for a few moments, but Del Mar did not stay very long. Heexcused himself shortly and Elaine bade him good-bye at the door as hewalked off, apparently, down the road I had taken.
. . . . . . .
Del Mar's emissary hurried from the bungalow and almost ran down theroad until he came to a spot where two men were hiding.
"Jameson is coming with a letter which the Dodge girl has written tothe Secret Service," he cried pointing excitedly up the road. "You'vegot to get it, see?"
I was cantering along nicely down the road by the shore, when suddenly,from behind some rocks and bushes, three men leaped out at me. One ofthem seized the horse's bridle, while the other two quickly dragged meout of the saddle.
It was very unexpected, but I had time enough to draw my gun and fireonce. I hit one of the men, too, in the arm, and he staggered back, theblood spurting all over the road.
But before I could fire at the others, they knocked the gun from myhand. Frightened, the horse turned and bolted, riderless.
Together, they dragged me off the road and into the thicket where I wastied and gagged and laid on the ground while one of them bound up thewounded arm of the man I had hit. It was not long before one of thembegan searching me.
"Aha!" he growled, pulling the letter from my pocket and looking at itwith satisfaction. "Here it is."
He tore the letter open, throwing the envelope on the ground, and readit.
"There, confound you," he muttered. "The government 'll never get that.Come on, men. Bring him this way."
He shoved the letter into his pocket and led the way through theunderbrush, while the others half-dragged, half-pushed me along. We hadnot gone very far before one of the three men, who appeared to be theleader, paused.
"Take him to the hang-out," he ordered gruffly. "I'll have to report tothe Chief."
He disappeared down toward the shore of the harbor while the othersprodded me along.
. . . . . . .
Down near the Dodge dock, along the shore, walked a man wearing abroad-brimmed hat and a plain suit of duck. His prim collar and tiecomported well with his smoked glasses. Instinctively one would havecalled him "Professor", though whether naturalist, geologist, or plain"bugologist", one would have had difficulty in determining.
He seemed, as a matter-of-fact, to be a naturalist, for he wasengrossed in picking up specimens. But he was not so much engrossed asto fail to hear the approach of footsteps down the gravel walk fromDodge Hall to the dock. He looked up in time to see Del Mar coming, andquietly slipped into the shrubbery up on the shore.
On the dock, Del Mar stood for some minutes, waiting. Finally, alongthe shore came another figure. It was the emissary to whom Del Mar hadtelephoned and who had searched me. The naturalist drew back into hishiding-place, peering out keenly.
"Well?" demanded Del Mar. "What luck?"
"We've got him," returned the man with brief satisfaction. "Here's theletter she was sending to the Secret Service."
Del Mar seized the note which the man handed to him and read iteagerly. "Good," he exclaimed. "That would have put an end to the wholeoperations about here. Come on. Get into the boat."
For some reason best known to himself, the naturalist seemed to havelost all interest in his specimens and to have a sudden curiosity aboutDel Mar's affairs. As the motor-boat sped off, he came slowly andcautiously out of his hiding-place and gazed fixedly at Del Mar.
No sooner had Del Mar's boat got a little distance out into the harborthan the naturalist hurried down the Dodge dock. There was tiedElaine's own fast little runabout. He jumped into it and started theengine, following quickly in Del Mar's wake.
"Look," called the emissary to Del Mar, spying the Dodge boat with thenaturalist in it, skimming rapidly after them.
Del Mar strained his eyes back t
hrough his glass at the pursuing boat.But the naturalist, in spite of his smoked glasses, seemed not to haveimpaired his eyesight by his studies. He caught the glint of the sun onthe lens at Del Mar's eye and dropped down into the bottom of his ownboat where he was at least safe from scrutiny, if his boat were not.
Del Mar lowered his glass. "That's the Dodge boat," he saidthoughtfully. "I don't like the looks of that fellow. Give her morespeed."
. . . . . . .
Del Mar had not been gone long before Elaine decided to take a rideherself. She ordered her horse around from the stables while she donnedher neat little riding-habit. A few minutes later, as the groom heldthe horse, she mounted and rode away, choosing the road by which I hadgone, expecting to meet me on the return from town.
She was galloping along at a good clip when suddenly her horse shied atsomething.
"Whoa, Buster," pacified Elaine.
But it was of no use. Buster still reared up.
"Why, what is the matter?" she asked. "What do you see?"
She looked down at the ground. There was a spot of blood in the dust.Buster was one of those horses to whom the sight of blood is terrifying.
Elaine pulled up beside the road. There was a revolver lying in thegrass. She dismounted and picked it up. No sooner had she looked at itthan she discovered the initials "W. J." carved on the butt.
"Walter Jameson!" she exclaimed, realizing suddenly that it was mine."It's been fired, too!"
Her eye fell again on the blood spots. "Blood and--footprints--into thebrush!" she gasped in horror, following the trail. "What could havehappened to Walter?"
With the revolver, Elaine followed where the bushes were trampled downuntil she came to the place where I had been bound. There she spiedsome pieces of paper lying on the ground and picked them up.
She put them together. They were pieces of the envelope of the letterwhich we had decided to send to Washington.
"Which way did they take him?" she asked, looking all about butdiscovering no trail.
She was plainly at a loss what course to pursue.
"What would Craig do?" she asked herself.
Finding no answer, she stood thinking a moment, slowly tearing theenvelope to pieces. If she were to do anything at all, it must be donequickly. Suddenly an idea seemed to occur to her. She threw the piecesof paper into the air and let them blow away. It was unscientificdetection, perhaps, but the wind actually took them and carried them inthe direction in which the men had forced me to walk.
"That's it!" cried Elaine to herself. "I'll follow that direction."
. . . . . . .
Meanwhile, the men had hurried me off along a trail that led to thefoot of a cliff. Then the trail wound up the cliff. We climbed it untilwe reached the top.
There in the rock was a rude stairway. I drew back. But one man drew agun and the other preceded me down. Along the steep stone steps cut outin the face of the rock, they forced me.
Below, in a rift in the very wall of the cliff, was a cave in whichalready were two more of Del Mar's men, talking in low tones, in thedim light.
As we made our way down the breakneck stairway, the foremost of mycaptors stepped on a large flat rock. As he did so, it gave wayslightly under his foot.
A light in the cave flashed up. Under the rock was a secret electricconnection which operated a lamp.
"Some one coming," muttered the two men, on guard instantly.
It was a somewhat precarious footing as we descended and for the momentI was more concerned for my safety from a fall than anything else. Oncemy foot did slip and a shower of pebbles and small pieces of rockstarted down the face of the cliff.
As we passed down, the man behind me, still keeping me covered, raisedthe flat stone on the top step. Carefully, he reset the connection ofthe alarm rock, a series of metal points that bent under the weight ofa person and made a contact which signalled down in the cavern theapproach of any one who did not know the secret.
As he did so, the light in the cavern went out. "It's all right," saidone of the men down there, with a look of relief.
We now went down the perilous stairway until we came to the cave.
"I've got a prisoner--orders of the Chief," growled one of my captors,thrusting me in roughly.
They forced me into a corner where they tied me again, hand and foot.Then they began debating in low, sinister tones, what was to be donewith me next. Once in a while I could catch a word. Fear made my senseshypersensitive.
They were arguing whether they should make away with me now or later!
Finally the leader rose. "It's three to one," I heard him mutter. "Hedies now."
He turned and took a menacing step toward me.
"Hands up!"
It was a shrill, firm voice that rang out at the mouth of the cave as afigure cut off what little light there was.
. . . . . . .
Elaine passed along, hunting for the trail. Suddenly a shower ofpebbles came falling down from a cliff above her. Some of them hit herand she looked up quickly.
There she could see me being led along by my captors. She hid in thebrush and watched. During all the operations of the descent of the rockstairway and the resetting of the alarm, she continued to watch,straining her eyes to see what they were doing.
As we entered the cave, she stepped out from her concealment and lookedsharply up at us, as we disappeared. Then she climbed the path up thecliff until she came to the flight of stone steps leading downwardagain.
Already she had seen the man behind me doing something with the stonethat formed the top step. She stooped down and examined the stone.Carefully she raised it and looked underneath before stepping on it.There she could see the electric connection. She set the stone asideand looked again down the dangerous stairway.
It made her shudder. "I must get him," she murmured to herself. "Yes, Imust. Even now it may be too late."
With a supreme effort of determination she got herself together, drewmy gun which she had picked up, and started down the cliff, steppingnoiselessly.
At last Elaine came to the cave. She stood just aside from the door,gun in hand, and listened, aghast.
Inside she could hear voices of four men, and they were arguing whetherthey should kill me or not. It was four against one woman, but she didnot falter.
They had just decided to make away with me immediately and the leaderhad turned toward me with the threat still on his lips. It was now ornever. Resolutely she took a step forward and into the cave.
"Hands up!" she demanded, firmly.
The thing was so unexpected in the security of their secrethiding-place protected by the rock alarm that, before they knew it,Elaine had them all lined up against the wall.
Keeping them carefully covered, she moved over toward me. She picked upa knife that lay near-by and started to cut the ropes which held me.
As she did so, one of the men, with an oath, leaped forward to rushher. But Elaine was not to be caught off her guard. Instantly shefired. The man staggered back, and fell.
That cooled the ardor of the other three considerably, especially nowas I was free, too. While she held them up still, with their hands inthe air, I went through their pockets, taking out their weapons.
Then, still keeping them covered, we backed out of the cave. Backwardwe made our way up the dangerous flight of steps again with gunslevelled at the cave entrance, Elaine going up first.
Once a head stuck itself out of the cave entrance. I fired instantlyand it jerked itself back in again just in time. That was the onlytrouble we had, apparently.
Cautiously and slowly we made our way toward the top of the cliff.
. . . . . . .
One look backward from his motor-boat was enough for Del Mar. He mustevade that inquisitive naturalist. He turned to his man.
"Get out that apparatus," he ord
ered.
The man opened a locker and brought out the curious submarine rescuehelmet and suit. Del Mar took them up and began to put the suit on,stooping down in the shelter of the boat so that his actions could notbe seen by the naturalist in the pursuing boat.
The naturalist was all this time peering ahead keenly at Del Mar'sboat, trying to make it out. He bent over and adjusted the engine toget up more speed and the boat shot ahead faster.
By this time, Del Mar had put on the submarine apparatus, all exceptthe helmet, and was crouching low in the boat. Hastily, he rolled apiece of canvas into the semblance of a body, put his coat and hat onit and set it on the seat which he had occupied before.
Just then Del Mar's boat ran around the promontory where Wu Fang hadmet the submarine that had brought Del Mar into the country and landedhim so strangely.
The boat slowed down under shelter of the rocks and Del Mar added apair of heavy lead-soled shoes to his outfit in order to weight himselfdown. Finally he put on the helmet, let himself over the side of theboat, and disappeared into the water.
His aide started the motor and the boat shot ahead again, with thedummy still occupying Del Mar's seat. As the boat swung out and made awide sweeping curve away from the point at which Del Mar had goneoverboard, the naturalist in the Dodge boat came around the promontoryand saw it, changing his course accordingly, and gaining somewhat.
. . . . . . .
Del Mar sank, upright and rapidly, down in the shallow water to thebottom. Once having his feet on something approaching firm ground, hegazed about through the window-like eye of the helmet until he got hisbearings. Then he began to walk heavily along the bottom of the harbor,over sand and rocks.
It was a strange walk that he took, half stumbling, slowly andcumbersomely groping his way like a queer under-water animal.
If any one could have seen him, he would have noted that Del Mar wasgoing toward the base of a huge rocky cliff that jutted far out intothe harbor, where the water was deep, a dangerous point, avoided bycraft of all kinds. Far over his head the waves beat on the rocksangrily. But down there, concealed beneath the surface of the harbor,was a sort of huge arch of stone, through which a comparatively rapidcurrent ran as the tide ebbed and flowed.
Del Mar let himself be carried along with the current which was nowrunning in and thus with comparative ease made his way, still groping,through the arch. Once under it and a few feet beyond, he deliberatelykicked off the leaden-soled shoes and, thus lightened, rose rapidly tothe surface of the water.
As he bobbed up, a strange sight met his eyes--not strange however, toDel Mar. Above, the rocks formed a huge dome over the water which thetides forced in and out through the secret entrance through which hecame. No other entrance, apparently, except that from the waters of theharbor led to this peculiar den.
Lying quietly moored to the rocky piers lay three submarine boats.Further back, on a ledge of rocks, blasted out, stood a littlebuilding, a sort of office or headquarters. Near-by was a shed wherewere kept gas and oil, supplies and ammunition, in fact everything thata submarine might need.
This was the reason for Del Mar's presence in the neighborhood. It wasthe secret submarine harbor of the foreign agents who were operating inAmerica!
Already a sentry, pacing up and down, had seen the bubbles in the waterthat indicated that some one had come through the archway and was down"below," as Del Mar and his men called it.
Gazing down the sentry saw the queer helmeted figure float up from thebottom of the pool. He reached out and helped the figure clamber up outof the water to the ledge on which he stood. Del Mar saluted, and thesentry returned the secret salute, helping him remove the drippinghelmet and suit.
A moment later, in the queer little submarine office, Del Mar hadevidently planned to take up the nefarious secret work on which he wasengaged. Several men of a naval and military bearing were seated abouta table, already, studying maps and plans and documents of alldescriptions. They did not seem to belong to any nation in particular.In fact their uniforms, if such they might be called, were of acharacter to disguise their nationality. But that they were hostile tothe country under which they literally had their hidden retreat, ofthat there could be no doubt.
How high Del Mar stood in their counsels could have been seen at aglance from the instant deference exhibited at the mere mention of hisname by the sentry who entered with the submarine suit while Del Margot himself together after his remarkable trip.
The men at the council table rose and saluted as Del Mar himselfentered. He returned the salute and quietly made his way to the head ofthe table where he took a seat, naturally.
"This is the area in which we must work first of all," he began,drawing toward him a book and opening it. "And we must strike quickly,for if they heed the advice in this book, it may be too late for us totake advantage of their foolish unpreparedness."
It was a book entitled "Defenseless America", written by a greatAmerican inventor, Hudson Maxim.
Del Mar turned the pages until he came to and pointed out a map. Theothers gathered about him, leaning forward eagerly as he talked tothem. There, on the map, with a radius of some one hundred and seventymiles, was drawn a big segment of a circle, with Peekskill, New York,as a centre.
"That is the heart of America," said Del Mar, earnestly. "It embracesNew York, Boston, Philadelphia. But that is not the point. Here are thegreat majority of the gun and armor factories, the powder and cartridgeworks, together with the principal coal fields of Pennsylvania."
He brought his fist down decisively on the table. "If we hold thissection," he declared, "we practically hold America!"
Eagerly the other emissaries listened as Del Mar laid before them thedetailed facts which he was collecting, the greater mission than themere capture of Kennedy's wireless torpedo which had brought him intothe country. Detail after detail of their plans they discussed as theyworked out the gigantic scheme.
It was a war council of a secret advance guard of the enemies ofAmerica!
. . . . . . .
Meanwhile, Del Mar's man in his boat, cutting a wide circle andavoiding the Dodge boat carrying the naturalist, made his way acrossthe harbor until he came to the shore.
There he landed and proceeded up the beach to the foot of a rockycliff, where he turned and followed a trail up it to the top. It wasthe same path already travelled by my captors with me and laterfollowed by Elaine.
As he came stealthily out from under cover, Del Mar's man gazed downthe stairway. He drew back at what he saw. Slowly he pulled a gun fromhis pocket, watching down the steps with tense interest. There he couldsee Elaine and myself wearily climbing toward the top, our backs towardhim, as we covered the men in the cave.
So surprised was he at what he saw that he forgot that his boat belowhad been followed by the mysterious naturalist, who, the moment DelMar's man had landed, put on the last burst of speed and ran the Dodgeboat close to the spot where the aide had left Del Mar's.
A glance into the boat sufficed to tell the naturalist that the figurein it was only a dummy. He did not pause, but followed the trail up thehill, until he was close after the emissary ahead, going more slowly.
Only a few feet further along the cliff, the naturalist paused, too,keeping well under cover, for the man was now just ahead of him. Helooked fixedly at him and saw him gaze down the cliff. Then he saw himslowly draw a gun.
Who could be below? Quickly the naturalist's mind seemed to work. Hecrouched down, as if ready to spring.
The emissary slowly raised his revolver and took careful aim at thebacks of Elaine and myself, as we came up the steps.
But before he could pull the trigger, the naturalist, more like one ofthe wild animals which he studied than like a human being, sprang fromhis concealment in the bushes and pounced on the man from behind,seizing him firmly.
Over and over they rolled, struggling almost to the brink of theprecipice.
Elaine and I had got almost to the top of the flight of steps, whensuddenly we heard a shout above us and sounds of a terrific struggle.We turned, to see two men, neither of whom we knew, fighting. Oneseemed to be a professor of natural history from his dress and generalappearance. The other had a sinister nondescript look.
Nearer and nearer the edge of the cliff they rolled. We crouched closerto the rocky wall, gazing up at the death grapple of the two. Who theywere we did not know but that one was fighting for and the otheragainst us we could readily see.
The more vicious of the two seemed to be forcing the naturalist slowlyback, when, with a superhuman effort, the naturalist braced himself.His foot was actually on a small ledge of rock directly at the edge ofthe cliff.
He swung around quickly and struck the other man. The vicious lookingman pitched headlong over the cliff.
We shrank back closer to the rock as the man hurtled through the aironly a few feet from us. Down below, we could hear him land with asickening thud.
Far over the edge Elaine leaned in a sort of fascination at the awfulsight. For a moment, I thought the very imp of the perverse had gotpossession of her and that she herself would fall over. She brushed herhand unsteadily over her eyes and staggered. I caught her just in time.
It was only an instant before the brave girl recovered control ofherself. Then, together, we started again to climb up.
As we did so the naturalist looked down and caught sight of usapproaching. Hastily he hid in the bushes. We reached the top of thestairway and gazed about for the victor in the contest. To our surprisehe was gone.
"Come," I urged. "We had better get away, quickly."
As Elaine and I disappeared, the naturalist slowly emerged again fromthe bushes and looked after us. Then he gave a hasty glance over theedge of the cliff at the man, twisted and motionless, far below.
If we had looked back we might have seen the naturalist shake his headin a manner strangely reminiscent as he turned and gazed again after us.
The Romance of Elaine Page 9
