Don Winslow of the Navy

by Frank V. Martinek

  V

  STRUCK DOWN FROM BEHIND

  Like a picture ship on a blue enameled sea, the gunboat _Gatoon_ steamedquietly on her way. Not even a ground swell disturbed the level of herwhite decks, or raised an extra dash of spray from her cutwater.

  Yet storm and violence, in human form, were already aboard her. Withinthe vessel's narrow confines, loyal officers and citizens of a greatnation were pitted against the unknown agents of a fiendish power. Eachside now stood on its guard, ready for the battle to open; but when orwhere the first blow would be struck, only the Scorpion himself couldtell.

  The strain of waiting was hardest, of course, upon Don and his friends,who at this moment were gathered under an awning on the _Gatoon's_ afterdeck. They knew that one or more of Scorpia's agents were on board,disguised no doubt as members of the gunboat's enlisted crew.

  They were aware that the enemy would stop at nothing--not even atdestroying the ship with every living soul--if that could beaccomplished. Yet they were helpless to do a thing until trouble showeditself in visible form.

  Don Winslow, standing by the after rail, had just finished telling aboutthe spy he had almost caught listening at his cabin door. That incidentfitted perfectly with the theft of Michael Splendor's decoded letter.Unfortunately, the brief glimpse Don had had of the skulker was notenough to identify him.

  "All I saw," he admitted, in response to Captain Riggs' query, "was aman's white clad arm and shoulder disappearing around the corner of thebulkhead. It didn't look like a seaman's blouse!"

  "You mean, it might have been an officer's, Don?" cried Mercedes Colby,leaning forward in her deck chair.

  "Or a petty officer's or even a cabin steward's," responded the youngcommander. "That really isn't much to go on in naming a suspect, yousee."

  "I'm sure, Winslow," said Captain Riggs stiffly, "that everycommissioned officer here aboard is above suspicion. As for the enlistedpersonnel, of course, I can't be sure. There were some replacements madein the crew before we shoved off from Guantanamo, and a spy might havecome aboard with them. About the only thing we can do is to check theirenlistment records."

  "The very idea I was about to suggest!" agreed Michael Splendor."Suppose you and Commander Winslow look through the papers now, Captain,and let us know what you find. Meantime, Lieutenant Pennington and Iwill try to entertain Miss Colby. We'll meet again at mess, thisevening, if nothing happens before then."

  When Don and the captain had gone below, the man in the wheel chairturned his keen blue eyes on the two young people beside him.

  "Sometimes, me friends," he said earnestly, "I have a hunch that somegreat thing is going to happen. And happen it does, despite everycircumstance against it. In this case me hunch is that the Scorpion'spower will be broken, and himself a prisoner, six months from this veryday!"

  A low whistle from Red Pennington greeted Splendor's statement.

  "But those were almost my own words to Don this morning!" the stockylieutenant exclaimed. "Thanks to Don Winslow, we've matched every movethe enemy has made with a better one. The Scorpion must be desperate,right now. And desperation usually goes before a flop, doesn't it?"

  "Very often, it does," replied Michael Splendor cautiously. "But I'mafraid the Scorpion is more angry than desperate at this moment, for allthe damage we have done him. 'Tis rather because of that code letter,and the opening it gives us, that I'm so hopeful of success. As yourecall, it tells us there is to be a meeting of Scorpia members in SanFrancisco, with Cho-San himself in charge!"

  "And who," asked Mercedes Colby, as Splendor paused, "is this person youcall Cho-San?"

  Once more a look of gloomy absorption had spread across the crippledman's features. His eyes, gazing outboard upon the sunlit Caribbean, hadthe look of a sleepwalker's.

  "Cho-San," he murmured, "is a chosen member of the inner circle ofScorpia. It was he and his evil master, the Scorpion, who made me thecripple I am today. 'Twas their devilish torture, in the chamber ofhorrors they call the Dragon Room...."

  A shudder gripped the big, helpless body of Michael Splendor, cuttingoff his strange speech. When it had passed, he sighed and blinkedrapidly, like a man awaking from a nightmare.

  "What was I speaking about? Ah, yes, I remember!" he said in a strongervoice. "Cho-San is the Scorpion agent in charge of all war-provokingoperations from San Francisco to Singapore. Any meeting which he callsamong Scorpia's members is of the utmost importance. It means a freshattempt to stir up war among civilized nations, so that, from thewreckage of human lives and fortunes, the Scorpion may pick morebloodstained wealth and power. The Naval Intelligence knows all that,but we need legal evidence before we can trap the archcriminal."

  "I see what you mean now, sir!" put in Red excitedly. "You're hopingthat Don Winslow may be able to horn in on that secret meeting in someway. If he could do that, he'd get the evidence you need!"

  At Splendor's nod of assent, Mercedes Colby caught her breath sharply.

  "But wouldn't such an attempt be horribly dangerous?" she protested."Just supposing they caught Don eavesdropping, or present indisguise--what chance would he have of getting out alive?"

  "Very little, I am afraid," replied the man in the wheel chair. "Butremember, my dear, the United States Navy is a fighting service, wheremen and officers expect to risk their lives in the cause of peace. Look!Here comes Captain Riggs, and he seems to be in a hurry. Perhaps he hasnews...."

  The captain took the short ladder to the yacht's poop deck in two leaps.His expression showed both worry and anger.

  "Lieutenant Pennington!" he clipped out harshly. "I'm afraid you'reneeded below, in my cabin. Commander Winslow...."

  He paused, biting his lip as if at a loss for further speech.

  "Go on, sir!" prompted Red in a strained voice. "What's happened to Don?Has he been taken sick?"

  "He's been attacked!" blurted Riggs. "Struck down from behind and thenchloroformed. The doctor is with him now."

  Red waited for no more. Forgotten were gassed lungs and wobbly knees ashe plunged down the ladder and dived into the cabin country, severaljumps ahead of Riggs himself.

  Moments later Splendor and Mercedes Colby joined the anxious littlegroup. Don Winslow was sitting up in the Captain's swivel chair, lookingdecidedly "green around the gills." The ship's doctor was binding acompress about his head; and, despite the draft through open door andskylight, the whole cabin smelled of chloroform.

  "I guess you people will have to tell me what happened," the youngcommander was mumbling. "One minute I was looking through a pile ofenlistment records--and the next, I was lying on the deck under thetable, and feeling sick as a pup! What fell on me, anyhow, Doc?"

  "A piece of lead pipe, to judge by the swelling," growled the medicalofficer. "Someone wanted to put you to sleep in a hurry, and keep youthat way. He used chloroform after slugging you."

  "You sure came out of it in a hurry, though, Don!" laughed RedPennington, rather shakily. "I'd no sooner picked you up off the deckthan you up and socked me in the eye!"

  "I'm still slug-nutty; so you'd better watch out, Mercedes!" grinnedDon, taking the glass of water the girl handed him. "But, seriously, I'dlike to know who downed me, and why. Have you any idea, Captain Riggs?"

  "Yes, Commander," answered the officer gloomily. "I believe it was abrutal attempt at murder by some one of the enlisted personnel. I shalldo my best to hunt the scoundrel down before we reach port. Meantime, Ican only blame myself for leaving you alone. If I had not returned whenI did...."

  "Don't take it that way, Captain!" protested Don Winslow, earnestly."You weren't to blame. And as for the notion of a murderattempt--wouldn't a killer have used something surer than a blackjackand chloroform? Those things are a thief's weapons."

  "Exactly, Commander!" spoke the deep voice of Michael Splendor. "Ye'venamed the means and the motive all in the same breath. A theft it was,to be sure; and if ye'll just glance about the place, ye'll see quicke
nough what the rascal stole."

  A startled silence fell upon the other five persons in the cabin. It wasbroken when Don, struggling up from his chair, cried sharply:

  "The enlistment records! They're gone, the whole stack of them!"