Don Winslow of the Navy

by Frank V. Martinek

  X

  A DESPERATE SCHEME

  The questioning of Anton Corba, Electrician First Class, took less thantwenty minutes; but it laid bare the whole Scorpion plot to destroy thegunboat.

  Corba and the other two spies had come aboard at Guantanamo. The Navymen whose places they took, had been kidnapped by other Scorpion agents,and held until the gunboat sailed.

  "The rest was easy, sir," the prisoner stated, with a nervous glance atRed Pennington's gun. "I rigged up a special sending key and an extrashort-wave receiver with the help of stuff I'd smuggled aboard. I keptin touch with the Scorpia headquarters by tunin' into a new wave lengththey gave me each day. And I listened in to any talk aboard ship withthis electric 'ear' which they say the Scorpion himself invented. Hereit is, if you want to look at it."

  Slipping a hand inside his blouse, Corba produced the tiny amplifier andearphone. Don Winslow took it from him, with a smile.

  "Clever!" he nodded, noting the hairlike wires and fine workmanship. "Isuspected something like this, Red, when I sent you up on deck to lookaround. With his door ajar, Sparks here could get every whisper comingup the cabin ventilators.... Well, Corba, if that's your name, I guessthat explains how you knew we were going to search the enlistmentrecords. The minute I was alone in the Captain's quarters, you justslipped in and bopped me on the head, eh?"

  "Yes, sir!" gulped the radio operator, squirming unhappily on his chair."You see, I had to, sir. I mean, I was afraid you'd...."

  "Stow it!" rapped Don, his tone suddenly hard. "Get down to brass tacks,and give us the rest of this program for sinking a Navy vessel on thehigh seas. Putting the engines out of commission was only a starter, ofcourse. Let's hear what comes next."

  Corba's black eyes slid away from the impact of Don's steely gaze.

  "Why--why, there ain't no 'next,' sir," he answered, nervously. "Notuntil daylight, when a couple of fast bombin' planes dive outa the skyand drop about a ton of high explosive down your fiddley hatch. Whathappens then don't need no imagination to figure out, sir! And no manaboard can do a thing to prevent it."

  "Horse feathers!" burst out Red Pennington. "We've got anti-aircraftguns, mounted fore and aft, that can blow half a dozen fast bombersclean out of the ozone. What're you trying to do, punk? Throw a scareinto us?"

  Drawn-faced, the radio operator shook his head. For a second, he seemedabout to reply, but instead merely licked his lips and looked away.

  Don Winslow sensed that the man was half-crazy with terror, every timehe thought or spoke of the coming air attack. And for that fear therecould be only one good reason.

  "You might as well tell it straight, Corba!" he told the fidgetingprisoner. "Go on and admit that the ship's guns have been damaged, aswell as the engines! Unable to fight or run, this ship will be just ahelpless target--or so you believe. Is that it?"

  The radioman's jaw dropped. He nodded weakly.

  "I don't see how you guessed it, sir," he whimpered; "Mink fixed everygun two nights ago. He used an explosive metal plug that'll make the gunblow up the first time it's fired. I'd have told you before, only thereain't a thing you can do to fix 'em, sir. We're gonna be sunk, with allhands, and that's all there is to it!"

  "Great jumpin' catfish!" gurgled Red Pennington. "I never thought onceabout the guns being jimmied too! What can we do now, Don?"

  "First put this man in the brig with his gorilla shipmate!" clipped outthe young commander. "After that, we're going to move a lot farther andfaster than the Scorpion expects. You stay by the radio until I send upa regular guard, Red. And, Corba! March yourself straight through thatdoor and forward to the brig. Lively now! My gun will be right at yourback the whole way!"

  Back in the radio shack, after seeing the lock turned on both Scorpionspies, Don Winslow sat down to compose a code radiogram to NavyIntelligence Headquarters at Washington. A trusted boatswain's matearmed with rifle and bayonet stood outside to guard againstinterruptions.

  The message, as Red Pennington translated it aloud, read: "GATOONSABOTAGED. STOP. NOW DRIFTING OFF THE COAST OF HAITI WITH GUNS ANDENGINES DISABLED. STOP. EXPECT ATTACK BY ENEMY BOMBERS AT DAYLIGHT.STOP. SEND FAST ATTACK PLANES TO OUR ASSISTANCE AT ONCE. STOP. OURPOSITION IS...."

  "Here's what I make it, Winslow!" interrupted Captain Riggs entering theroom with sextant in one hand and a sheet of penciled figures in theother. "Good thing it's a clear night, for 'shooting' the stars. By myreckoning, we're just ten miles off the coast, and ninety more fromPort-au-Prince."

  "Thank you, Captain!" said Don, glancing at the other's notes. "Shall Isign your name now to this radio message? If we send it at once, thoseNavy planes will have barely time to get here before the fun starts!"

  "Sign it yourself, Commander," replied Riggs quickly. "Your name willcarry twice the weight of mine with Washington. But, blow me under if Ilike this idea of lying here useless till help comes! Isn't there anytrick we can work out to defend ourselves with?"

  "I think there is, Captain," answered Don Winslow, rising from hischair. "I'd like to talk it over first, though, with Michael Splendor.Suppose we join him, below, while Pennington is sending this radio I'vejust coded. Red's an expert operator, so there won't be any mistakes!"

  Below, in the captain's quarters. Lieutenant Darnley had just finishedoutlining the situation to Splendor and Mercedes Colby. The girl wastaking the latest news of sabotage and sudden death with cool courage,as became the daughter of a Navy Admiral. Even the likelihood of beingbombed and sunk by a Scorpion airship failed to terrify her.

  "Now that I know the worst, I'm not scared at all," she smiled pluckily."It was _not_ knowing what fiendish thing the Scorpion was planning,that was the hardest to bear. There are lots of worse deaths thandrowning. And anyhow, I can't believe it will come to that!"

  "Neither can I!" put in Michael Splendor, quietly. "With Don Winslow ondeck, our chances of making port are better than the enemy's. He'll finda way to fight back, never fear! Besides, there's me own seaplane wetook aboard last night. She has two machine guns and----"

  Without knocking, Captain Riggs flung open the door and entered, withDon Winslow at his heels.

  "I have a few plans to talk over with you, sir!" the latter announced,halting before the cripple's wheel chair. "Lieutenant Darnley has toldyou the latest trouble, I suppose--about our anti-aircraft guns beingjimmied?"

  "He has that!" replied Splendor. "And I knew you'd have a plan toovercome that difficulty, Commander. 'Tis honored I am that ye wish todiscuss it with a useless old man like me!"

  "You've been called 'the brains of the Haitian Intelligence Service,'"Don retorted. "And if brains are useless, it's news to me! Joking aside,sir, there are three good reasons against our being bombed and sunk atdaylight. I'll name them over, and see if you agree with me. PerhapsCaptain Riggs and Lieutenant Darnley may have some valuable suggestionsto make, too."

  "Go ahead. Commander!" nodded the crippled man, as the others groupedthemselves closer about Don. "I had a couple of schemes in me own mind,but three sounds better yet!"

  In short, rapid sentences, Don Winslow outlined the hopes of the_Gatoon's_ company.

  First was the message now being radioed by Red Pennington to CaptainHolding of the Naval Intelligence in Washington. A squadron of lightbombing planes would be taking off within an hour to come to the_Gatoon's_ rescue.

  Whether or not they would arrive in time was another question, ofcourse. The distance of the nearest fighting ships, the weather theymight meet on the way, and various other difficulties made the answeruncertain. Less than three hours now remained before daybreak and theScorpion's attack.

  Pursuit type planes, Don explained, could have made the distancequicker, but could not carry enough gas for a round trip.

  Don's second plan was for Panama and an expert machine gunner to takeSplendor's armed seaplane up at crack of dawn to watch for enemyaircraft, and fight them off. Even if hopelessly outnumbered, the pilotand h
is gunner could delay an attack upon the _Gatoon_.

  "And that," boomed Michael Splendor, his eyes gleaming eagerly, "is thevery job I picked for meself! I'll need no legs to use a machine gun, yesee. I've already talked it over with my pilot. The lad is anxious totry his luck in a real air fight, whatever the odds. And now, Commander,let's have your third scheme. I've no doubt it includes yourself, andthat redheaded lieutenant. If so, it will be the most dangerous job ofall, and the most difficult, too."

  "I'm not so sure of that, sir," Don protested. "In fact it's as simpleas jumping overboard with a life preserver on. That's what theScorpion's gang expect their two spies to do; so what's to keep Red andme from taking their places?"

  "And then what, Don?" asked Mercedes Colby in a strained tone. "Isuppose you think a Scorpion pilot will pick you up without askingquestions or bothering to recognize you? More likely he'll turn hismachine gun on you and leave you for the fishes. Oh, Don, don't tryanything so desperately foolish!"