VII
"MAN OVERBOARD!"
Shoulder to shoulder with Captain Riggs, Don Winslow made for the engineroom ladder. In their wake hurried the medical officer and LieutenantRed Pennington. Mercedes, at Michael Splendor's insistence, stayedbehind in the cabin.
Not one of them believed that the "accidents" reported by the yeomanwere at all accidental. With Scorpion spies aboard trouble could beexpected from any quarter. Unfortunately, there was no guessing inadvance where disaster would break out; or treachery, for that matter.Even as the _Gatoon's_ afterguard was bending over Ahern's twistedcorpse in the engine room, a shadowy form slipped into the radio shack,abaft the galley. In the faint glow of a shaded bulb, the man's face wasa mere blur. Only his hands showed in dark outline, as they fingered apair of invisible dials.
Abruptly the fellow sat down, his right hand now concealed beneath thetable. A faint, almost inaudible clicking began spelling out inInternational Morse Code: "SCP--SCP--Acknowledge--SPC--SPC...."
Almost immediately came the reply--a hoarse, murmuring voice from outerspace: "_Go ahead SC-3 with your report._"
Again the faint ticking filled the tiny room.
"Orders carried out," it spelled rapidly. "Engines disabled for the nexttwenty-four hours. CS-3."
There was silence for a full minute. Then the voice in the radiophonebreathed harshly: "The master is pleased. Stand by at midnight forfurther instructions. That is all."
Below decks the _Gatoon's_ medical officer rose, white-faced, from hisexamination of the Chief Machinist's Mate.
"This man is dead, though the body is still quite warm!" he stated. "Ishould say he had been strangled by a noose of thin wire, which becameembedded in the flesh. Somebody removed the thing before we got here."
Lieutenant Allen, catching the captain's glance of query, shook hishead.
"I didn't touch Ahern, except to turn him over, sir," he declared. "Andthere was no one else in the engine room when I arrived. Strange way tokill a man, with a wire noose!"
"The French call it '_La Garrote_,'" observed Don Winslow, stooping topick a peculiar metal object from a dark corner of the deck. "If I'm notmistaken, this thing is it! Looks as if the killer dropped it in hishurry to get away."
At his words the others turned to stare in fascinated horror. The deathinstrument was a loop of extremely thin but tough steel wire, threadedthrough a small metal hand grip. A sharp pull on the latter tightenedand locked the strangling noose in the same motion.
"See!" remarked the young Intelligence Officer. "A man could hide thisweapon in his closed hand, or slip it into a watch pocket. It's deadlierthan a knife in the back. Look here, Captain! No need to let the crewknow just how Ahern was killed, is there? A thing like this coulddemoralize a ship's company in no time!"
The grizzled ship's master met Don's look in thoughtful silence.
"I understand, Commander," he said at last. "Knowing what _we_ do, everyenlisted man aboard would be suspecting his mates--afraid to turn hisback for a second, for fear of feeling his wind shut off! You're rightabout keeping it quiet. We'll put poor Ahern in the bos'n's locker, andtake the key away. Then the engine crew can get busy at that brokensteam line.... How long before we can get under way again, Lieutenant?"
Lieutenant Allen shook his head.
"If it were only the steam line, I'd say four or five hours, sir," hereplied dubiously. "But I saw what looked like emery dust near the mainshaft bearings. If any of that stuff's been used we might not make portfor a week, if then. All depends on what we find in the next hour, sir!"
"And on how close a watch we keep after that, Captain!" put in DonWinslow. "I'd suggest an armed guard be stationed at every vital part ofthis ship. Lieutenant Pennington and I will help you keep watch topside,sir."
Tossing a wink over his shoulder to Red, he turned to the ladder leadingon deck.
Sometime after midnight the two young officers stood shoulder toshoulder in the shadow of a port lifeboat, the wind blowing theirwhispered words out to sea.
"Got your automatic handy, Red?" Don asked casually, resting an arm onthe ship's rail. "We're part of that guard I mentioned to Captain Riggs,you know. The difference is that we're not stationed anywhere inparticular."
"I cleaned and loaded my gun before mess gear blew this evening," youngPennington answered. "But, say! Do you really think there'll be anotherattempt to put the _Gatoon_ out of commission?"
"I do," Don replied, "though mere sabotage wouldn't be the Scorpion'sreal object. He doesn't go in for small-time stuff. He'd like to sink usall without a trace, and if I didn't know that we'd destroyed his piratesubmarine...."
"But maybe he's got another we don't know about!" cut in Red excitedly."With her engines crippled, this old cutter'd be an easy mark for atorpedo. Or for any armed yacht the Scorpion might have handy. Say, Don,I'll bet that's the answer!"
"Keep your shirt on, Red!" Don Winslow laughed softly. "Your theorysounds okay, if you say it fast, but don't let it scare you off on awrong tack. I'd stake my commission, on there _not_ being another enemysubmarine in these waters; and as for an armed yacht attacking us--well,the _Gatoon's_ guns outrange any but a destroyer's. No! There's someworse danger afloat, and it's up to us...."
Don's words trailed off into silence. Stepping deeper into thelifeboat's shadow, his form was suddenly blotted out.
"Red!" came his low call, above the slosh of waves against the ship'sside.
At once, the stocky lieutenant moved in the direction of Don's voice.Feeling his way along the lifeboat's keel, he felt his arm graspedfirmly. An instant later an end of light cordage was pressed into hishand.
"That's the second I've located," Don Winslow whispered in his friend'sear. "My hand happened to find the first one by accident. What do youmake of it?"
"Why--it's a boat lashing, Don!" muttered Red, wonderingly. "That meansthe tarpaulin's loose, and a stiff breeze would lift it.... Huh! Youdon't suppose that's where the killer's hiding himself--right in thisboat above our heads?"
"He may have hidden _anything_!" Don answered briefly. "Here, let mestand on your shoulders and take a look!"
As Red braced himself, Don went up, catlike, to grip the lifeboat'sgunwhale. Fishing in a pocket, he produced a small flashlight. It'sbeam, thrust under the canvas boat cover, lighted up the whole cavelikespace beneath.
Red, crouched in the darkness below, felt Don's weight suddenly leavehis shoulders. Glancing up, he saw his friend's dim form disappearinginside the boat.
Moments passed, with only a faint whisper of movement from inside thecovered lifeboat. Red Pennington waited nervously at his post, alert forthe slightest sound of approaching footsteps. If the spy had hiddensomething of value, the fellow might be coming back for it at any time!
Red's reasoning was better than his hearing, as a matter of fact. Whenhe did hear the faint step behind him, it was too late to turn. Jerkinghis head to one side, the stocky lieutenant just saved himself.
A numbing blow descended on his shoulder. With a grunt, Red whirled, hisfist coming up in a wicked hook which contacted flesh and bone. Theunseen assailant's gasp of pain came a second before Red's whoop: "I'vegot him, Don! Come--ugh!"
The thug's elbow jammed into Red's midriff, and loosened a perfectlygood hammer lock. The lieutenant gagged, lost his grip and his footingtogether, as the enemy tripped him with a jiu-jitsu trick.
At that second, Don Winslow's lithe form dropped from above.
Only darkness and the snakelike agility of the Scorpion spy preventedhis capture then and there. The man leaped over Red's body, barelyavoiding Don's rush, and jumped for the rail beyond the lifeboat.
Red, scrambling to his feet, lunged for the boat's forward end. Withoutwarning there came a heavy splash from overside. Don's shout, "Manoverboard!" followed instantly.
"G-great guns, Don!" Red gulped, bringing up against the rail. "Ithought he'd knocked _you_ overside! What happened, anyway?"
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"He jumped!" clipped Don Winslow as other voices on deck and bridge tookup the cry of "_Man overboard!_" "Listen, Red! You hustle aft and get aplace in the first boat that's lowered. Don't tell 'em the wholestory--only that someone attacked you and jumped overboard when youfought back. Lively now, before anybody sees us together!"
Badly mystified, Red Pennington trotted aft to the group gatheringaround Number Three lifeboat. He had a hundred questions to ask,starting with: Why was Don staying behind? On the other hand, orderswere orders, and questions would keep until Don chose to answer them.
Don Winslow of the Navy Page 7
