Fighting Byng: A Novel of Mystery, Intrigue and Adventure

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Fighting Byng: A Novel of Mystery, Intrigue and Adventure Page 16

by A. Stone


  CHAPTER XVI

  Living this episode over again, I labor with the inadequacy of anycombination of words to describe it. I saw the Boche boat bearing downlike the wind upon the Canby boat--its intended victim. I was nowpositive, and I exulted in mind that I had Bulow in the toils. I waswitnessing an overt act. But I hoped it would not bring harm to thechild, such a slight bundle of charming girlhood. I cannot describe myfeelings as the Boche boat, on evil bent, came swooping down from onedirection and we from another with no chance to arrive there first.And if we did arrive ahead of them how could we contend with afive-pound cannon which I knew they had mounted the day before?

  The little girl's face portraying unalloyed joy suddenly changed toapprehension.

  "Why, there is a big boat heading directly for the _Sprite_. I wonderwhat they want? It is very fast, too!" The child grasped the wheelfirmly, glanced again at the motor, which seemed to throb withincreased eagerness as it dashed into calmer waters on the lee side ofthe island.

  "Why--why--that looks like the boat that came to our wharf when I wasalone, and I had to shoot--oh, Mr. Wood, it is the same!" exclaimedthe girl. "What can they want?--I can't see Daddy anywhere. He must bediving and may not come up until after they get there. I can see themplainly now; there are several men on deck, all looking at the_Sprite_!" she exclaimed, with a little cry of pain so foreign to her,a cry of the wounded--soul-depressing, pleading.

  She glanced at the motor behind her, as if to urge it on to greatereffort. As we came up I could see now why the _Sprite_ was speedy. Thelittle girl and Scotty both had said she was very fast. She was builtlike a scimiter, her graceful lines showing above the water, as shebowed, queenlike, to the slightly undulating sea, tugging gently ather anchor.

  We were now within half a mile of our goal, and the Boche boat hadstopped short like a rearing pair. They were now within a few hundredfeet of the Canby craft and swung broadside, coming to a standstillwith reversed engine. This was instantly followed by a puff of smokethat bespoke tragedy.

  "It is the same boat, and they are shooting at the _Sprite_ with a biggun!--they are trying to sink it!--Daddy must be diving!--I cannot seehim!--He would shoot them all if he were there!--Oh! Oh!"--and shebeat the wheel of the _Titian_ frantically with her delicate hands asif to drive it faster. As they drew closer another cannon shot boomedabove the quiet sea like a knell of death.

  At that instant the little girl's face changed to that of a ragingwoman of fearful determination. Her eyes burned and glittered, a wildfierceness unseated her gentle youth and femininity.

  I don't care to witness such fierceness often--it's terrible to see inhuman beings. The delicate, innate, refined child disappeared, and thecalm, stolid determination of a maddened woman came to view. I shallnever forget this picture--it was sublime. She instantly planned.

  She steered past the bow of the _Sprite_, scanning futilely for signsof her father, then brought up with reversed engine within fifty feetof the Boche boat, and asked me to hold steady there. In an instantshe had lifted one of the seats, grasped something, and disappearedover the side as smoothly as a seal.

  Two men on the Boche boat came to its bow to see what was going on,but, being unarmed, I made no move, divining what she was doing. Icould hear three jubilant voices; a shot hole in Canby's _Sprite_ wasvisible just above the water line. They knew it had passed out belowon the other side. One of the men shouted, "She is sinking!" thenadded, "Better give her another shot to make sure." Then came anotherorder to get the rifles ready for Canby "when he comes up." As ifsuddenly realizing there might be danger in a launch stopping so nearthem, three or four men faced about to look us over.

  I recognized among them at once the thick waistband and heavy jowl ofthe leader--and, yes, there was the bandaged hand just as Scotty haddescribed.

  "What's this?" he said in perfect English. "We can't leave anyone totell tales. We'll take no chances. Better swing around and give thisone a shot, too--the rifles will not sink her.

  "What do you want here?" he asked insolently, when he saw me trying toshrink up to invisibility under the cowl of the _Titian_.

  I did not have time to answer, for a thin hand grasped the other sideof the boat and the little girl came over the side holding the ends ofa double insulated wire. With the savage gleam in her eyes she thenwithout hesitation applied the two ends to separate poles of thebattery. This done, she looked directly at the Boche with the bandagedhand, not more than fifty feet away, who stood much puzzled by herappearance from nowhere.

  A fearful explosion immediately followed that carried the bow of theenemy ten feet in the air, falling back instantly as though seekingthe quickest route to oblivion.

  This, then, was the effect of the "terror" her father had invented!

  Her face gave no sign as she started the motor and drew alongside the_Sprite_, now but a short distance away. It was taking water in thecockpit aft as it gently rolled in the sea.

  She jumped on board, went to the half-inch down line over its sidewhich she knew led to her father working below. She tried it forweight, as he might be coming up. Not being reassured by this, shestood up in the boat and began filling her lungs. Her wonderful chestexpanded to deformity before she went over the side with the down lineas a guide. I knew she was bound for the bottom of the sea to rescueher father, and such terrible determination would get him, dead oralive. To one underneath water a cannon shot above is a stunning blow.

  After she was over I watched the Boche boat that was surely sinking,bow down. The Huns were all below, evidently to determine the extentof the damage. Not being anchored, their wreck seemed likely to driftaway.

  I jumped from the little _Titian_ into the _Sprite_, to note thedamage of their shots. One had evidently missed, but the other enteredabove the water line, and being deflected, passed out on the otherside, at the water line. I thrust a piece of waste in the jagged holeand noted she had so far taken but little water.

  When I looked again for the Boches they were out on deck workingfrantically over the single lifeboat and were swinging it out on itsdavits. Craven fear had now replaced the jubilant insolence of amoment before.

  I sprang back into the _Titian_ and took the girl's rifle. At a shortdistance I am fairly accurate and I sent three bullets through thebottom of the light metal lifeboat. I wanted these men, they havingactually committed a crime in the territorial waters of the UnitedStates. By getting them and their boat I might have the key to aviolation of international law.

  I called upon them to surrender or I would shoot to kill. The man withthe bandaged hand and great paunch was an easy target. Dazed andchagrined at the turn of things, they stood for a moment in silence.Then followed loud talking and swinging of arms, as if accusing eachother.

  A panic seemed imminent among the trapped fiends, three of them wentbelow; the cook, still clothed in white, and the engineer in greasyoveralls, ran to the lifeboat, shoved it off into the seaand tumbled and plunged in after it. One began to row franticallywhile the other railed at those left in the sinking boat. I did notneed them so bad, and without this lifeboat I was sure of the rest.

  Evidently attracted by the dropping boat, the remaining three rushedback on deck, shouting curses, and shaking their fists with rage atthe two in the boat making frantically for the coral island.

  Their boat, with bow under, stopped sinking, evidently held up bywater-tight compartments amidship and aft. Without a small boat or anengineer, I felt sure they were mine, though I knew there were riflesaboard, and the five-pounder might be brought into action if theescaping engineer was not the gunner.

  As the three went below again I jumped back into the _Sprite_. Thedown line evidenced life and big air bubbles coming to the surfaceassured me that the little girl, at least, was safe. But the leastneglect in watching the movements on the Boche boat was verydangerous. I knew that deviltry was certainly being planned.

 

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