CHAPTER II.
CLIPPING THE DRAGON'S CLAWS.
"Will it work, matey?"
"It ought to--providing there is anything for it to work with. Whenyou talk by wireless, Dick, you know there has got to be a secondinstrument within reach of your Hertzian waves. Lucky we were able topick up that wireless instrument in Buenos Ayres. Lucky, too, thatEnsign Glennie knows how to use the key and to talk Spanish."
Just behind a bold headland to the north of Cape Virgins and within themouth of the River Gallego, the submarine _Grampus_ was anchored. Theshore of the little bay lay steep to, the submarine being moored withina jump of the wooded bank.
Wires issued from the conning-tower hatch of the craft, crossed thestretch of water, and climbed a high tree that had been stripped of itsbranches. From the top of the tree hung the a?rials. Below deck, in theperiscope room, was the instrument, with John Henry Glennie, Ensign, U.S. N., waiting at the key.
Motor Matt and Dick Ferral were on deck.
"Are you sure, matey," went on Dick, "that that was the Jap steamer ourlookout raised from the headland?"
"We can't be sure of anything where those Japs are concerned. Thesteamer was of about the same size, although differently painted. But,then, paint is cheap, and it sometimes makes a big difference in aboat's appearance. The suspicious circumstance is that, while she waspassing the mouth of the Gallegos, she pulled down the cross of St.George and ran up the Chilian flag."
"And she had two wireless masts!" exclaimed Dick. "These Sons of theRising Sun are wily chaps, but, seeing that we have come from Para,all down the eastern coast of South America without any trouble, I wasbeginning to think the Japs had given up, and that they were going tolet us finish our long cruise without paying us any more attention."
"Remember what Mr. Brigham, the American consul at Para, told us,Dick--that these fanatical young Japs never turn back once theyhave set their hands to a piece of work. Our business is to get the_Grampus_ around the Horn and into the hands of the commandant of thenavy yard at Mare Island, and collect a hundred thousand dollars forCaptain Nemo, Jr. The Sons of the Rising Sun came near winning while wewere on the way from Port of Spain to Para, and the mere fact that wegot the best of them isn't going to cause them to throw up their handsand haul off."[A]
[A] How Motor Matt and his chums were commissioned by Captain Nemo,Jr., to take the _Grampus_ around South America to San Francisco, howthey met unexpected enemies, and how they worsted them, was set forthin No. 18 of the Motor Stories, "Motor Matt in Brazil; or, Under theAmazon."
"If there's a wireless machine on that steamer," observed Dickspeculatively, "it doesn't seem to me that she can belong to the Japs."
"It was probably easier for the Japs to install a wireless apparatusthan it was for us. Undoubtedly they had every part of the machine inthe hold of their vessel when they left their own country. As for us,we had to pick up a second-hand instrument at Buenos Ayres. I don'tknow that wireless telegraphy is going to help us any; but there's achance that it may, and we can't neglect any chance if we want to clipthe claws of the dragon."
"Right-o, old ship! Brigham told us not to let any one know what portswe were to call at, or what course we were going to take. If thatsteamer belongs to the Japs, those aboard won't know whether we'regoing through Magellan Strait or around the Horn."
"Our orders," said Matt reflectively, "carry us around the Horn, butthose orders were given when it was not known that the Sons of theRising Sun were after us."
"It was a good scheme putting in here and sending a lookout up on topof that headland," and Dick peered up toward the high point whereSpeake was sitting with a glass to his eyes. "If you hadn't done that,you'd never have seen that steamer, or----"
Dick was interrupted by a blue flash from the top of the tree.
"Strike me lucky!" he broke off, grabbing Matt's arm in a tense grip."What does that mean?"
"It means," answered Matt excitedly, shaking off Dick's hand andhurrying toward the conning tower, "that Glennie is in communicationwith somebody. Stay here and watch, Dick, while I go below."
In the periscope room all was excitement. Clackett, Gaines, Carl, andGlennie were grouped about a table which, loaded with sending andreceiving apparatus, completely filled one end of the chamber. EnsignGlennie, stripped to his shirt, was humped over the key, cramming theear phone to the side of his head and listening breathlessly. Mattpushed close and looked on with deep interest.
"What is it?" he asked, as Glennie leaned back on his seat.
"I can't make out," was the ensign's disappointed answer. "This oldsecond-hand instrument don't seem to be keyed properly, or else we'reout of the zone of the ether waves and only catch snatches of---- Ah!"he finished, jumping for the table again.
After a few moments he lifted his head.
"I caught that," he said. "It was Spanish. 'This is the Chilian warship _Salvadore_,' ran the message; 'what do you want?' It was clear asa bell, and was sent from some 'station' fairly close. There comes theanswer, and I can't make head or tail to it--the sending instrument istoo far away."
"It must come from Punta Arenas, in the strait," averred Matt. "That'sa Chilian settlement, and the station there is talking with the warship."
"Or with that mysterious steamer that passed here a few hours ago,"qualified Glennie.
"Py chimineddy!" muttered Carl. "Schust to t'ink dot all dose t'ingsvas t'rown troo der air, und----"
"Hist!" warned Matt as Glennie began to take another message off thesounder.
"The supposed war ship answers," said Glennie, "'All right; anythingelse?'"
"Try and make out what follows, if you can," returned Matt.
The chronometer on the wall ticked off seven minutes.
"I guess that's the end of it, Matt," said Glennie.
"Our spark won't carry to the land station?" queried Matt.
"If theirs won't come here distinctly, ours won't be able to reachthem."
"Then we'll get into communication with the boat. Ask if she's theChilian war ship _Salvadore_."
The Spanish words ran crackling up the wires to the top of the tree andjumped off into space.
"The answer is 'Yes,' Matt," said Glennie.
"Now give them this," said Matt: "'The United States submarine, incharge of one Matt King, is going around the Horn. Watch for her, payher a visit, if you can, and have the craft carefully looked over. Thesubmarine _Grampus_ is a marvel of her kind, and a long way ahead ofany other under-water boat yet launched.'"
Glennie stared in blank amazement.
"Vy, Matt, dot's a gifavay!" gasped Carl. "Prigham saidt dot ve vasn'tto dell anypody vere ve're going."
"That's my notion, Matt," said Glennie.
"Send the message, Glennie," ordered Matt.
The perplexed ensign bent to his key.
"It's gone," he muttered, "and here's something else coming back."
A few minutes later Glennie translated into English the words that hadcome to his sharp ears.
"They want to know where the submarine is now."
"Tell them," said Matt resolutely, "that she's three days out from theRiver Plate, and may be well below Cape Virgins by this time."
"Ach, lisden!" whispered Carl. "Pelow Cape Firgins--und here ve are toder nort', in Gallegos Pay."
"They say they will watch for her," reported Glennie, after sending themessage and getting the answer.
Matt smiled grimly.
"Tell them, Glennie," said he, "to try and pick her up before she getsaround the Horn."
"They say they'll try," announced Glennie presently. "Now," hefinished, removing the ear phones, "I'd like to know what you're tryingto do, Matt."
"It's a cinch, I think," replied Matt, "that you've been talking withthat steamer that passed the headland, bound south, a few hours ago."
"No doubt about that."
"She hauled down the British ensign and hauled up the Chilian flag asshe passed."
"Exactly, and that looks susp
icious, although it might be explained."
"She says she's a Chilian war ship," went on Matt, "but she had noguns. If she's not a war ship, she's not Chilian; and if she's notChilian, she's Japanese; and if she's Japanese, she belongs to theSons of the Rising Sun, who are trying to lay a trap for us. Here'swhere we have a chance to clip the dragon's claws--and we've virtuallyaccomplished it by wireless."
Matt whirled away.
"Gaines," said he, "you and Clackett strip those wires off that treeand call Speake down from the top of the hill. Carl," he added, "youhelp Glennie clear these instruments out of the periscope room. They'veserved their purpose better than I ever dreamed they would when we tookthem aboard at Buenos Ayres."
Gaines and Clackett at once shinned up the iron ladder to carry outtheir orders. Carl and Glennie began carrying the wireless machineinto the steel room abaft the periscope chamber. Meanwhile Matt wasoverhauling some charts, which he had spread out on top of the locker.
Dick, Speake, Clackett, and Gaines--the two latter with the coil ofwire and the a?rial points--came down into the periscope room beforeMatt was through.
"What's the next move, matey?" asked Dick.
"Get up the anchor and cast off the mooring ropes, old chap," Mattanswered, getting to his feet. "If that boat we were talking withreally belonged to the Japs, then she's hustling for the Horn toovertake us. While she's beating around the southern end of Terra delFuego, we'll pass through the Strait of Magellan and reach away up thecoast of Chili."
"Hoop-a-la!" exulted Carl. "Dot's der vay der king oof der modor poysfools der Chaps! Vile dey look for us von blace, den ve scoot out someodder blace!"
"That's the trick!" cried Ferral; "and it's the trick that wins."
"But our orders carry us around the Horn," demurred Glennie.
"You're aboard as the representative of the United States Government,Glennie," said Matt. "If we try to go around the Horn, there's notelling what will happen. A hundred thousand dollars is trembling inthe balance, and ought we to take chances with it? It's for you to say."
"Then go through the strait," answered Glennie.
Motor Matt had reasoned wisely; but the failure of their wirelessinstrument to catch the messages from Punta Arenas was to cause them avast amount of trouble.
Motor Matt's Defiance; or, Around the Horn Page 2
