by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER IV
MORE MYSTERIES
Of course, every one was highly elated at the successful outcome ofthe ruse which Rawlins had suggested and all felt that at last thelong chase was over, that the leaders of the gang of "reds" wereprisoners under lock and key at Trinidad, and that soon the destroyerwould be homeward bound with her mission successfully accomplished.And no one was more pleased at the outcome than Robinson, the chiefofficer of the _Devonshire_. At the suggestion of the officialsin Dominica, it had been decided to keep him and his men on thedestroyer until definite news was received of his ship's whereaboutswhen, as he had pointed out to Mr. Pauling and Commander Disbrow, heand his men could be put aboard the _Devonshire_ and could againassume the duties which had been so tragically interrupted by therascals from the submarine. Moreover, as the Administrator of Dominicahad reminded Mr. Pauling, the presence of Robinson and his men wouldbe needed at whatever port the _Devonshire_ was held, in order toidentify the pirates and to testify to the facts.
And now, knowing that he would soon be back on his own ship and wouldhave an opportunity of telling his story to the British authoritiesand would have the satisfaction of seeing the murderers of CaptainMasters and the radio operator receive their just punishment, Robinsonand his men were, if possible, more elated than Mr. Pauling and hisparty.
"It means hangin' for the bally blighters!" he declared. "Piracy'twas--no less--and though I've never been to a hangin' yet, it woulddo me good to go to theirs--when I think of Captain Masters and poor'Sparks' shot down in cold blood."
"Yes, they richly deserve it," agreed Mr. Pauling. "But I'm afraidpunishment for this crime will rob us of the chance to punish them forthe other crimes they have committed. However, it makes littledifference what government deals with them, I suppose."
"Yes, you may be sure the British are not going to give them up,"declared Mr. Henderson. "We may think our English cousins slow in somethings, but British laws and British justice are inexorable as well asswift and these rascals will curse the day they ran their stolen shipinto a British port. Better for them had they given themselves up tous."
"I suppose we'd better send a message to Trinidad saying we're comingand have the _Devonshire's_ crew and chief officer aboard," saidMr. Pauling. "I should have done it before. No need of cipher now.Just see Bancroft, Rawlins, and give him this message."
Presently the diver returned, a frown on his face. "He can't send it,Mr. Pauling," he announced. "Something's wrong with his instruments.He says they went wrong just after we got the message this morning andhe can't locate the trouble. Just as soon as he gets the things fixed,he'll shoot it off."
"Too bad," exclaimed Mr. Pauling, "but there's really no hurry. Luckyit didn't happen when we had really important matters to send--forexample, when we notified the officials of the _Devonshire's_seizure."
"And if he doesn't get his set fixed, we can send with ours, when weget nearer," said Tom.
"To be sure!" assented his father. "I'd almost forgotten that--it'sbeen so long since you boys were called upon."
Interested as they were in everything pertaining to radio, the twoboys hurried to the radio room and found Bancroft busy at hisinstruments and thoroughly exasperated.
"It's just got my goat!" he exclaimed, as he glanced up at the boys'arrival. "I never ran up against anything like it. I've been over theantenna and the insulation, and I've worked back to the inductance andthe condensers. Everything seems ship-shape and yet the whole blamedthing seems dead. Current's all right, I've tried new tubes, and thewave meter and ammeter tests are O. K. and yet I can't get a blessedreply."
"Well, that doesn't prove you're not sending," declared Tom. "How doyou know the trouble isn't in the station you're trying to get? Maybeyour messages are going out all right and they get them but can't sendback."
"Oh, I'm not such a boob as not to think of that!" retorted Bancroft."I've tried four different stations and not a reply from any. And theradio compass is in the same fix. It's downright uncanny, I tell you.Look here! The filament oscillates and the ammeter registers and yetI'll bet there isn't a wave going out. It's just as if the thing wereshort circuited somewhere, but I can swear it's not. I've even hookedup a whole new set."
"Say, I've an idea to test it and be sure you're not sending," criedTom. "I'll go over to the radio-compass and listen and you send andsee if I hear anything. Then I'll send and see if you can hear. Ifthere's even a trace of waves, we ought to get them at a few yardsaway."
"That's a great scheme," agreed Bancroft enthusiastically. "And say, Iwonder if your sets are all right."
"We'll try them too, after we do this," said Tom as he left the room.
But Tom's scheme was a dismal failure. Although the set at the radiocompass seemed in perfect working order, he could detect no sign of amessage from Bancroft's instruments a few yards away and when: hereturned to the wireless room, Bancroft reported! that he had heardnothing.
"Well, that does beat the Dutch," declared Tom, "Now I'm going to testour sets. Perhaps everything's hoodooed. You go to the radio compass,Frank, and Mr. Bancroft can stay here and I'll go to our sets andwe'll try to get some sound or to send. If they're all dead, it mustbe some atmospheric trouble. Perhaps the air's full of electricity orsomething."
"Whew!" exclaimed Bancroft, "That gives me an idea! Perhaps it's dueto that volcano over at Martinique--Mt. Pelee you know, the one thatdestroyed St. Pierre. It's still active and it's only a few miles fromDominica. If I could only get some dope from the station at Fort deFrance I could find out."
"I don't know," replied Tom. "I read somewhere that active volcanoesdid all sorts of queer things to ships' compasses and if they affectmagnets, I don't see why they shouldn't affect radio instruments. Butif that's it, then it's mighty funny you got the message thismorning."
"But I didn't!" exclaimed Bancroft. "I haven't received any messagesince day before yesterday. That message your father got was a cable."
"Gosh!" ejaculated Tom. "I thought all along it was a radio. I neverasked, but just took it for granted. Then you don't know how longthese sets have been out of order?"
"Well, I know they were all right when we sent those messages offafter we picked up the _Devonshire's_ boat," replied Bancroft.
"Then perhaps it's the volcano," said Tom. "If it is, the sets willwork all right after we get farther away."
"And we've forgotten something else," put in Frank. "How can we tellwhether it's the sending or receiving sets that have gone bad? Maybethey all send and won't receive or all receive and won't send."
"Why, of course that's so," assented Tom. "If it's the same troublewith all--the volcano or atmosphere or anything, then we may all besending but can't receive. But you're wrong, in a way, because we knowit must be in the receiving end anyway, or we'd hear some messagesfrom ships or shore even if they didn't get ours. So if we're notsending, the things have gone wrong both ways. Well, I'm going to oursnow, so listen."
It was now night, a dark, inky black night such as only occurs in thetropics, with the darkness seeming to shut one in by a curtain and Tomhad actually to feel his way along the decks. The sea was fairlysmooth, and the destroyer, steadied by her swift rush through thewater, was making easy weather of it, and by the vibration of her hullTom knew that she was being driven at the greatest speed possible inher still crippled condition. The decks seemed deserted, although Tomknew that, hidden from view in the blackness, the watch was being keptand once he glimpsed a dim, white, ghostly figure as it passed throughthe rays of a running light forward and he heard faint voices from thedirection of the chart room and bridge. But somehow he had a peculiarfeeling of mystery or danger afoot and glanced nervously about. Then,realizing how foolish he was, he shook off the childish fears of thedark and reaching the stairs descended towards the little room wherehe and Frank had installed their radio outfits.
The steel-walled, narrow alleyway was dimly lighted by screenedelectric bulbs and reaching the door to the room, Tom turned the k
nob,swung it open, and stepped into the black interior. With gropingfingers he reached for the switch beside the door and pressed thebutton. At his touch the place was flooded with brilliant light anddazed by the sudden glare Tom involuntarily turned his face andblinked. The next instant the steel ceiling seemed to crash down uponhis head, his knees sagged limply, the light danced and spun about andhe felt himself sinking into a bottomless black pit.
Slowly consciousness came back to him. First, as a dull, throbbingache, then as a stabbing pain in his head and with the pain came thedim memory of the blinding light, the blow and oblivion. What hadhappened? What had fallen from above to strike him? Why was it sodark? Why did he feel suffocating? Had the lights gone out? Was hestill pinned under the object which had hit him?
Perhaps, he thought, there had been an accident, a collision. Perhaps,even now, the destroyer was sinking. He strove to turn his head, torise, and then, for the first time, he suddenly realized that his headwas enveloped in the heavy choking folds of a blanket, that his armswere pinioned behind his back and with the discovery came theterrifying knowledge that he had been struck by some one; stunned,gagged, and bound by some enemy.
But, by whom? Who upon the destroyer could have done this? Who hadbeen hiding in the room and for what reason?
Choking for breath, still dazed from the blow on his head, frightenedand sick, feeling as if every breath under the smothering cloth mustbe his last, Tom nevertheless thought of the others. The vessel andhis friends must be in danger; there must be mutiny afoot, and hegroaned to think that he could not warn the others; could not even cryout. Then, suddenly he forgot all, forgot his aching dizzy head, hisgasping, choking lungs, his terror and his plight, for through thefolds of the blanket the sounds of a human voice came dimly to him.And, as Tom's straining ears caught the words, he could scarcelybelieve he was not in a delirium. Terror froze the blood in his veins.
"Everything correct," came faintly through the cloth. "We'll fix thegear so she'll go on the rocks in the Bocas. Yes, all out of it butthis and I'll fix this in a minute more. Oh, yes. Pretty near caught.Fool boy bobbed up unexpectedly. Knocked him out. Oh, no, toss himoverboard presently. No, no trace."
Then silence--and Tom, knowing his end was near, that in a few shortmoments he would be cast, bound, gagged and helpless into the blackwater, prayed for unconsciousness, prayed for oblivion that would endhis sufferings. But the very terror of his fate kept his mind activeand his senses alive, while each short, gasping breath he drew sentsurges of awful, crashing pain through his temples and he felt asthough his eyes were bulging from the sockets.
Then he felt himself roughly seized and being carried away bodily. Heknew that in another instant he would find himself falling, would feelthe cold waters close over him. Summoning all his fast ebbingstrength, he uttered a piercing scream and once more lostconsciousness.
Muffled by the blanket about his head, Tom's last despairing cry couldnot have been heard ten feet away; but it was enough. Less than tenfeet off, Sam the Bahaman was at that instant approaching the room,passing through the alleyway. At the boy's smothered cry, he leaped tothe door, flung it open and with a savage yell sprang at the figureabout to throw the apparently lifeless boy through the open gun port.
So swift and silent had been Sam's response to Tom's cry that thenegro's yell was the first warning Tom's captor had of the Bahaman'sapproach. Startled, taken utterly by surprise, he dropped the boy'sbody, whipped out a revolver and whirled about. But Sam, with headlowered, had hurled himself like a catapult across the room. Beforethe other could even aim his weapon, the negro's head struck himsquarely in the stomach with the force of a battering ram. With agasping, awful gurgle the man doubled up and shot through the open gunport into the sea. Sam, carried forward by his own momentum, graspedthe gun carriage and saved himself in the nick of time from plunginginto the water after the writhing body of his victim.
The Bahaman gave one glance through the open barbette at the racing,black, foam-flecked waves and then, with a grin of satisfaction, hesprang to Tom's side, whipped off the blanket, and tore loose thebonds about his wrists. Lifting the unconscious boy in his powerfulblack arms, he raced with him to the deck and to the room where Tom'sfather and the others were chatting, all oblivious of the tragedywhich had taken place beneath their feet.
To their frenzied questions as they worked feverishly over Tom, Samcould give but very vague and unsatisfactory replies. "Ah jus' cotchtha' soun' of tha' young gen'man's cry, Chief," he told Mr. Pauling."An' Ah knowed tha' mus' be trouble for he an' burs' into the room. AnAh seed tha' Englishman jus' mekkin' fo' to heave he out the gun po't,Chief."
"Englishman!" cried Mr. Pauling. "What Englishman?"
"Tha' English sailor man, Chief," replied Sam.
"You don't mean Robinson!" exclaimed Mr. Pauling. "Where is he? Whathappened?"
"Yaas, Chief, tha' officer we picked up in tha' boat, Chief. He'sfinish, Chief. Ah don' rightly know where he gone, but Ah' 'spec tha'sharks got he."
"Suffering cats!" cried out Rawlins. "Did you knock him overboard?"
Sam grinned. "Yaas, Sir," he replied. "Leastwise, when Ah seed hemekkin' to heave the young gen'man out, Ah jus' butted he afore hecould mek to shoot an Ah 'spec Ah butted he pretty hard, fo' he jus'mek one good grunt an' scooned out o' tha' po't like Davy Jones wascallin' he."
"You old black rascal!" cried Rawlins, slapping Sam on the back. "I'llsay you butted him good--and I'll bet he 'scooned.' Why, by glory, I'drather be kicked by a mule than butted by that kinky head of yours."
"Jove, but this is a mystery!" exclaimed Mr. Henderson. "The fellowmust have gone crazy suddenly. Why on earth should he wish to injureTom?"
"Perhaps Tom can tell us, when he comes to," suggested CommanderDisbrow. "Ah, he's all right, he'll be out of his faint in a moment."
Presently Tom's eyes opened and he looked about, a wild,uncomprehending expression on his face. Then, realizing that he reallywas among his friends, that his father was bending over him and thathe had not been thrown into the sea, he smiled and closing his eyes,took a long deep breath.
When again he looked up, he was fully conscious and to his father'sanxious queries declared he felt all right except weak and that hishead ached. Then, for the first time, the others discovered the greatbruised lump upon his head and as it was being bandaged Tom told hisamazing story.
"The scoundrel!" cried Mr. Pauling. "I can't understand it. Whom washe talking to in the room?"
"In the room!" fairly shouted Rawlins. "Don't you see it all, Mr.Pauling? He was talking to those blamed 'reds.' The whole thing's aframe up. They weren't shipwrecked at all. The _Devonshire_ neverwas held up. It was all a trick and I said I had a hunch it was at thetime. They just got aboard us to give them a chance to wreck thedestroyer and get away. He put the radio sets out of commission andleft the boys' set 'til the last so he could call to his friends."
Before Rawlins had uttered a dozen words, the Commander had slippedfrom the room and before the diver had ended he had given low-tonedorders and commands.
"By Jove, I guess you're right!" exclaimed Mr. Pauling. "But still, wegot that cable from Trinidad this morning. The _Devonshire_ mustbe there."
Rawlins snorted. "Cable nothing!" he replied. "That was a fake--sentby the same bunch to head us for Trinidad. Didn't Tom hear him saythey'd fix our gear to put us on the rocks in the Bocas? Why, bygravy, they may be hanging around within sight of us now! There neverwas a _Devonshire._ They just dropped off from the sub in ourcourse and pretended to be adrift. I'll bet the old sub wasn't fiftyyards away when we took 'em aboard."
"And we thought they'd fallen into our trap!" ejaculated Mr.Henderson. "And we were the ones who were caught."
"A miss is as good as a mile," Rawlins reminded him. "And we're notcaught yet. We'll fool 'em still and land 'em if I have to follow themto Kingdom Come. Say, we'd better get the rest of that bunch roundedup before they do anything or get wise to Robinson being bumped off."
"They'r
e attended to," announced Commander Disbrow, as he reenteredthe room. "Every mother's son of them is safe in double irons."
"Bully for you!" cried Rawlins. "Now let's put our heads together andsee how we'll nab the rest of the bunch."
"There we're up against it," declared Mr. Pauling. "If we could makeany of the prisoners confess, we might find out their plans, althoughI doubt if they know them. And we haven't the least idea as to wherethe submarine is. I think it's about hopeless."
"I'll be shot if 'tis," declared the diver. "That fake British rascalwas going to get off with a whole skin with his gang somewhere. Youcan bet he wouldn't risk his dirty neck when we went on the rocks. Allwe've got to do is pretend to fall in with their plans, keep on forTrinidad, and watch developments. There was some plan to get thisbunch off before we got there and we're boobs if we can't get on toit."
"Yes, no doubt you're right," agreed Mr. Pauling. "But still I'mdoubtful of success. The criminal always has the advantage in a caseof this sort for he knows his own plans and makes them while knowingmore or less of his pursuers' plans and movements, whereas theauthorities know nothing of his and must go largely by guess work.Possibly the boys might send some message--asking for further ordersor pretending the exact plans had not gone through--and so getinformation."
"No, that would give us away at once," declared Rawlins. "They knewthe radio instruments were all disabled and that Robinson, or whateverhis real name was, intended to fix the boys' set as soon as he wasthrough talking, and now if we start butting in on radio again,they'll shy off."
"But what did he mean about fixing the gear and the Bocas?" asked Tom.
"The Bocas are the narrow channels leading into the Gulf of Paria fromthe Caribbean," explained the Commander. "The tide runs swiftly andthere are dangerous rocky shores on either side. If a ship's steeringgear or engines go wrong there, she'll pile on the rocks in a moment.I expect the rascals planned to monkey with the steering gear--thoughhow I can't imagine. I've a gang of machinists and engineers goingover every part of the ship now. No knowing but they may have donesomething already."
"And to think we pitied them and thought them shipwrecked sailors!"exclaimed Frank.
"Yes, and I was fool enough to give away some of our plans," lamentedMr. Pauling. "No doubt that confounded faker told them all to hisfriends on the sub."
"But you didn't tell him the secret cipher you used in notifying theauthorities," said Mr. Henderson. "How do you imagine they discoveredit and managed to get the message to you?"
"I don't think they did," replied Mr. Pauling. "The cable came in inEnglish and I had no suspicions. As long as the _Devonshire_ andits crew were supposedly taken, I assumed that there was no furtherneed for secrecy and that the officials used a plain message for thatreason."
"Hmm, I see," mused the other. "I wonder where it was really sentfrom."
"Probably not sent at all," declared Rawlins. "More likely a plainfake from beginning to end, written right in Dominica and never sawthe cable office."
"Well, what are we going to do with this gang we've got in the brig?"inquired the Commander. "Take them to Trinidad?"
"I think the best and first thing is to question them," replied Mr.Pauling. "By taking them one at a time we may learn something."
Accordingly, the men were brought up, shackled and under guard, andMr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson, who were past masters at the art ofwringing damaging admissions from criminals, questioned each of thesurly lot at length. But all their efforts to secure informationamounted to but little. The men declared they knew nothing of theplans of their leaders; every one maintained that the story of theseizure of the _Devonshire_ was gospel truth and all professedentire innocence of any wrong doing. No amount of cross questioning orthreatening shook their story and not one made a statement whichconflicted with another's.
"They're the most accomplished set of liars I ever ran across,"declared Mr. Pauling, "and the worst of it is, we really haven't anatom of evidence or proof against them. If the _Devonshire_ neverturned up, they could claim that she had been sunk by the 'reds' andour own evidence as to the past activities of the villains would lendcolor to these fellows' tale. Even the fact that Robinson plotted orplanned to destroy us or that he was in league with those on the subwould not affect these men. They could hold that he was planted on the_Devonshire_ and the rest of her crew knew nothing of it."
"Yes, that's very true," admitted the Commander, "but I would suggestwe put into Barbados and leave this crowd there. Possibly theAdmiralty Courts may be able to hold them on some charge."
"I would, but for the fact that if, as Rawlins thinks, the sub iswatching us, our going to Barbados would arouse their suspicions andas long as there is a remote chance of getting the leaders I'm goingto take it," replied Mr. Pauling.
As he finished speaking, Bancroft and the boys appeared.
"We've found the trouble with the radio!" cried Tom. "And it's allright now. They'd cut the lead-in wire where it passed through aninsulating tube and had spliced the insulation together, and on theradio compass they'd taken out a section of wire and replaced it witha bit of stick covered with the insulation where it was connected to abinding post."
"I'll say they're clever rascals!" exclaimed Rawlins. "Well, we canhear any messages they send now even if we don't want to send."
"Personally, I'm sorry that Sam butted that man Robinson overboard,"remarked Mr. Pauling who had been deep in thought. "He's bobbed uptwice in the nick of time to save your life, Tom, and each time he'skilled a man who would have been more valuable alive than dead. Notthat I blame him--I owe him a greater debt than I can ever hope torepay--but I do wish that if he's destined to rescue you from everyscrape you get into that he could do it without always destroying ourevidence. I'd give a great deal to have a chance to put a fewquestions to that Robinson."
"And I'll bet my boots to a tin whistle he wouldn't have come acrosswith any information," declared Rawlins. "I've been putting two andtwo together and I've a hunch he's the chap who called himself a'Yank' when the boys heard him talking on the tramp back in St. John.He was too blamed clever to give away anything and maybe, after all,these men _are_ telling the truth and he was planted on the_Devonshire_ and his friends seized the ship. That would accountfor their letting Robinson and a boat's crew get away--just to boardus you see. By glory, it's such a mixed-up plot within a plot thatit's sure got me guessing."
"Jove, that may be so," cried Mr. Henderson. "If so, it would explainseveral puzzles. He may have intended to escape alone and let the restof the crowd sink or swim with us. 'Twould have been fairly easy forhim to do that--just drop over the side and be picked up by the sub atsome prearranged spot--whereas a crowd of twenty-two men would have ahard job to clear out undetected."
"Well, he dropped over all right," chuckled the diver. "Only I'll betthe sub wasn't standing by to pick him up."
"Perhaps we can solve part of the mystery when we reach Trinidad,"said Mr. Pauling. "If the _Devonshire_ is overdue, we can befairly sure she was seized. Whereas if she arrives with her realofficers and crew, we'll know it was all a frame-up. But we'll owe anapology to her company in that case."
Rawlins uttered an ejaculation and springing up rushed from the room.
"Well, I wonder what's struck him now!" exclaimed Mr. Henderson.
"Another hunch, probably," laughed the Commander. "He seems full ofthem."
"And usually pretty near the truth at that," put in Mr. Pauling.
Five minutes later the diver reappeared. "Some one please kick me fora blamed dub!" he exclaimed. "Here we've been backing and filling andtalking and discussing and guessing and we might have found out thetruth in a minute at any time."
"If you'll tell us what you're driving at, we may understand," saidMr. Pauling. "What's this new discovery of yours?"
"That this bunch we've got on board are all blamed liars!" replied thediver. "There isn't any such ship as the _Devonshire_. At leastnone that corresponds with their story. I've just
gone through Lloyds'Registry and there are only three British ships of the name. One's awooden bark, the other's a little coasting steamer and the third's abig liner."
"By Jove!" ejaculated Mr. Henderson.
"You'd better kick me too!" laughed the Commander. "I'm ready to joinyour boob society at any time, Rawlins. I'd hate to have the rest ofthe navy hear of this. Here I'm supposed to use that registry forlooking up ships and I never thought of it when the need came."
"Well, we're none of us infallible," Mr. Henderson reminded him."However, that's one point settled. The next thing--"
At this instant a lieutenant dashed into the room and saluted."Submarine on the starboard bow!" he announced.
