The Radio Detectives Under the Sea

by Amanda M. Douglas

  CHAPTER V

  A NARROW ESCAPE

  At Frank's words Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson leaped to their feetand Tom almost dropped the coil in his surprise. "By glory!" exclaimedRawlins, who had just appeared.

  "Are you sure?" demanded Mr. Pauling. "Of course I'm sure," repliedFrank. "I heard them just as plain as in New York."

  Scrambling down the ladder all gathered about the instruments, butdespite every effort no sounds came to their ears.

  "Well, it did before," insisted Frank. "I hadn't been hearing anythingand then, suddenly, I heard the voices."

  Tom sprang up and rushed towards the ladder. "Keep listening," heyelled. "I'll bet I know how 'twas."

  Hurrying up the ladder, he gained the deck and seizing the resonancecoil moved it slowly about as if pointing with a stick. Then, just asit pointed to the southeast he heard Rawlins' voice.

  "They've got it again," he shouted up the ladder. "Come down and hearit."

  "If I do you'll lose it," Tom shouted back. "It's this resonance coil.You only get the voices when it points to the southeast. Tell them tolisten and you yell up when they lose it and get it."

  Again Tom swung the coil about and before it had moved two feetRawlins called up that the sounds had faded away. Once more Tom swungthe coil back to its former position and once again Rawlins notifiedhim that the voices could be heard.

  But Tom was wild to be down below and hastily hanging the coil to therail by knotting his handkerchief he hurried down.

  "I knew that was it," he declared excitedly. "The coil works andthey're southeast of here. Do you know what they're saying?"

  "No, it's Russian or German," replied Mr. Henderson. "Wish Ivan werehere."

  "What's the matter with Smernoff?" suggested Rawlins.

  "Of course!" exclaimed Mr. Henderson. "By Jove, what fools we are! Gethim, Rawlins."

  Rawlins dashed from the room and returned a few seconds later draggingthe big Russian with him.

  "Here, Smernoff!" ordered Mr. Henderson. "Tell us what they're saying.And no lying, either!"

  Clapping the receivers over the Russian's ears Mr. Henderson shovedhim into the chair. For a moment the slow-witted fellow seemed dazedand uncomprehending and then, as the words came to him and he realizedwhat was wanted, a strange look of mingled cunning and ferocitycrossed his features and his chest heaved with the intensity of hisefforts to catch every syllable.

  Impatiently the others waited. To ask him to translate as theconversation went on they knew would merely result in failure; hisEnglish was too limited and his brain too slow for that.

  "Might let him talk back," suggested Rawlins in a whisper. "He couldput up a yarn about escaping and find out where they are."

  Mr. Pauling shook his head. "You don't know the men you're dealingwith," he said. "They probably know all about his escape and his actsin New York and a word from him would simply forewarn them. I had thesending set cut off the moment I came in--I'm not risking any chanceof being heard."

  A moment later, Smernoff slowly swung his big body around and with asavage glint in his eyes took the receivers from his ears and rose.

  "They been done," he announced. "No more talk. Me, I hear heem say hebeen try keel me, me, Alexis Smernoff. Ha! Heem teenk he get me, eh?Me, I make keel heem mos' likely. Heem say me, I what you say--geefdouble cross--Ah! heem Bolsheviki keel mine boy, mine girl, mine wife.Ah! me, I help the gentlemen."

  "Yes, yes, we know all that, Smernoff!" cried Mr. Hendersonimpatiently, "but what else did they say? Where are they?"

  The Russian spread his palms and shrugged his shoulders expressively.

  "Heem no say notting more," he declared. "Me, I no know where heem be.Heem make to talk from boat, heem talk from how you call it--boat samelike thees fellow."

  "From a submarine?" cried Mr. Pauling.

  "Sure, that eet," replied Smernoff. "Sutmavine you call heem? Ah, hesame like thees only more beeg."

  "Then they have got another sub!" exclaimed Rawlins. "I knew it! Darnit all, why didn't we get him here first thing? We might have got wiseto where they are."

  "Possibly," agreed Mr. Pauling, "but I doubt it. They would not belikely to give away any secrets."

  "Now see here, Smernoff!" cried Mr. Henderson sharply. "You want to befree--you want to go to Russia. Well, you tell us where we'll findthis crowd and I'll get you a pardon, see? Now out with it! Where doesthe crowd hang out--where do they stay? Not the chief--I don't believeyou know that--but where do they keep that submarine and where did youlive?"

  Smernoff listened, a perplexed frown on his low forehead.

  "Me, I no know," he replied. "Leetle islan'; Me, I no know hees name.He near one beeg place, one place me, I hear heem say call what youcall heem Sam Dora--San Dom--me, I forget heem."

  "Santo Domingo!" shouted Rawlins. "Was that it, Smernoff?"

  The Russian's eyes lit up. "Sure!" he replied "That eet. Me I hearthose fellow say beeg islan' San Dom--San Dom'go."

  "I'll say that's a tip!" cried Rawlins, his face fairly beaming."Hitches right onto the schooner left at the Caicos too. They'realmost due north of Santo Domingo and I'll bet it's one of those cays.Come on, let's beat it."

  Ten minutes later the cay was a rapidly fading patch of green behindthem and at her top speed the submarine tore through the smooth seawith her bow pointed for the Caicos Islands.

  But before they reached their goal their hopes were dashed, forthrough the air from an invisible destroyer lurking below the horizoncame a long cypher message from Disbrow which, when decoded, informedthose upon the submarine that the deserted schooner haddisappeared--vanished as mysteriously and completely as had her crew,and that a careful search of the islands had failed to reveal a signof her or of the missing men.

  "Well, that's that," said Rawlins, when Mr. Pauling told him of themessage, "but there's a bunch of cays and islands down there. I'll betCommander Disbrow didn't hunt every one. I'm for getting down in thereanyway. Maybe we can get their talk again."

  There seemed no better plan and so, giving Disbrow their position andcourse, they continued on their way, passing the Caicos low down onthe horizon and making for the remote, uninhabited, outlying cays. Inthe hopes of again picking up the Russian conversation the resonancecoil had been fixed on the superstructure and a man was detailed toslowly swing it back and forth through a wide arc, while below, one ofthe boys was constantly at the receivers with Bancroft at the regularequipment listening for messages from the destroyer or any othersource.

  Land was in sight ahead--low-lying, surf-beaten cays on the fringe ofthe Bahamas--when once more Tom heard the rough gutturals in his ears.Instantly he summoned Smernoff and with the signal bell, which hadbeen arranged, notified the man at the resonance coil to hold itsteady. Mr. Pauling, Mr. Henderson and Rawlins appeared at the sameinstant as the Russian and all waited breathlessly as the big fellowseated himself at the instruments. But only a few words came to him inthe tongue of his native land and they were meaningless to him. Merenumbers, but which, after he had repeated them several times and hishearers were convinced he had made no mistake, caused the others toglance at one another and to retire behind closed doors the moment theRussian was out of sight. In the meantime Rawlins had hurried on deckand had asked the man at the coil for the direction in which it hadpointed when the bell had sounded.

  "Southeast by south one-quarter south, Sir," he replied.

  "Well, they're not on those cays!" Rawlins announced as he joined theothers. "The coil was pointing southeast by south one-quarter southand the cays are just about due south by east. What did you make ofthose numbers?"

  "Latitude and longitude, I should say," replied Mr. Pauling. "If so,where would they bring it?"

  Rawlins left and returned a moment later with a chart. Spreading it onthe table he ran his parallel ruler over it.

  "If they are latitude and longitude they're not anywhere within fivehundred miles," he declared, "and," he continued, "I don't believethey were latitude and lon
gitude. One was X 3568 and the other 46 B15. Whichever way you take it that would be way outside of the WestIndies and I'll bet my best hat to a stale doughnut that they're somecypher numbers. By the jumping Jupiter! I have it! That's the way theHun planes used to signal their gunners to direct their fire! Thosefellows on that sub are directing some one to somewhere. Yes, sir, andI'll make another guess and that is they're onto us and are breakingfor headquarters as fast as they can beat it. Likely as not thosenumbers refer to us. I'll say that's it! We never heard a peep fromthem till we began testing that radio under water. Shouldn't wonder ifthey were lying low not far off and heard us."

  "You may be right," agreed Mr. Pauling. "But it's all guesswork. Ofcourse we did not hear them before as we had not set up theinstruments and had not used the resonance coil. But tell me,Henderson, how is it we get them on that and don't get them on theregular instruments?"

  "Too weak for the latter," replied the other, "you forget the boys areusing three stages of amplification and those crystals. But if thatdetector is right we should be able to hear that other sub if she'snear. Are there any cays southeast by south one-quarter south,Rawlins?"

  "Not this side of Haiti or Santo Domingo, but Smernoff said they weretalking from a sub so that don't count."

  "H-m-m," muttered Mr. Henderson. "Rather like searching for a needlein a haystack. For all we know they may not be headed for their hidingplace."

  "No, they may not," admitted Mr. Pauling, "but I think Rawlins isright in that part of his surmise. If the submarine picked up theschooner's crew as we assume, then they would naturally go direct toheadquarters to report. If they continue to talk there is no reasonwhy we should not trail them and eventually run them down."

  "Well I'm going to pump that Smernoff," declared Rawlins. "I'll bet hecan tell us something. Not that I think he's lying, but he's justnaturally thick as mud and he doesn't get all we say to him. He mustbe able to tell something about the island if he lived there, and ifhe does I may be able to recognize it from his description."

  "Well, good luck, Rawlins," laughed Mr. Henderson as the diver hurriedaft. "Sorry you can't talk Russian."

  But when, an hour later, Rawlins reappeared the others knew instantlyby the expression on his face that he had learned something of value.

  "I'll say he knew something!" cried Rawlins gleefully. "Had the deuceof a job getting at it--couldn't seem to make him understand, but gotit little by little. He says the island was about a mile long and halfa mile wide, that it was high and rocky in the middle, that one of thelandmarks was a big turtle-shaped rock standing out of water just offa point and that the men lived in rooms or barracks which were cut inthe solid rock."

  "That's all very interesting--if true," said Mr. Pauling, "but howdoes it help? There are probably a thousand islands of that size withsimilar high rocky centers and turtle-shaped, undercut rocks off theirpoints. Why, the description might do just as well for NewProvidence."

  "Yes, except for one thing," replied Rawlins, "and that of course wasthe last thing I got out of the old duck. Probably thought it wasn'tworth mentioning."

  "Well, out with it! What was it?" demanded Mr. Henderson.

  "Rather I should have said two things," Rawlins answered. "The firstwas the fact that there were rooms cut out of the rock and stairwayscut from the rock leading up to an old fort or wall also cut from thesolid rock. The second was that the place was inhabited by a sort ofgiant rat and that the men caught and ate them."

  "Might have been China!" laughed Mr. Pauling.

  "Yes," agreed Rawlins, "but it's not. I know the place as well as I domy own island back in the Bahamas. There's only one island in the WestIndies that it could be. There aren't many with ruins of forts cutfrom solid rock. I don't know of another that has them and aturtle-shaped rock off the point, and I can swear there's not anotherthat has both those and the big rats as he calls them--the Jutias--andthat's a little island off Santo Domingo known as Trade Wind Cay."

  "Jove!" exclaimed Mr. Henderson. "Are you sure of that?"

  "I'll stake my life on it," replied Rawlins soberly. "I'll bet, if wehead for Trade Wind Cay, we'll find their hang-out. And here's anotherbet--or hunch, or whatever you want to call it. Smernoff says it nevertook over a day for the sub to go to the chief's place and return. Nowthere's no blamed bit of land within half a day's run of that cayexcept Santo Domingo and it's dollars to brass tacks the oldHigh-Muck-a-Muck hangs out there. Mighty good place too--lot of itwild and uninhabited, plenty of caves, fine hidden harbors and busheverywhere."

  "Rawlins you should be in the Service!" declared Mr. Paulingenthusiastically. "You've the imagination, the perseverance, theenergy and the logic. I believe you're right. I'm with you for TradeWind Cay."

  "Well I had a sort of an idea I was in the Service, just at present,"laughed Rawlins, "and if the old sub don't bust or run aground orshake herself to pieces we'll be within sight of that cay inside ofthree days."

  No further messages were heard that day and all through the night theykept steadily on. The last bit of land had dropped from sight and faroff on the southern horizon a faint misty cloud hung which Rawlins andSam both insisted was the higher mountain tops of Haiti or SantoDomingo. Then, just before noon, the man in the conning tower calleddown the speaking tube to those below.

  "Sail ahead!" he announced. "Looks like a schooner and about threepoints off our port bow."

  Ordinarily the sighting of a schooner would have caused no interest orexcitement and would merely have called for submergence until out ofsight, but with the knowledge that the mysterious submarine wassomewhere in the surrounding waters and remembering the strangedisappearance of the schooner reported by Disbrow, those on board thesubmarine hurried on deck to have a look.

  "It's a schooner all right," declared Rawlins, after studying itthrough his glasses, "and it fits the description of the one thatDisbrow lost to a 'T.' Shall we run over and have a look at her?"

  "I suppose it would be wise," agreed Mr. Pauling, "but how about beingseen? I think we had better submerge and watch her through theperiscope. If it's another schooner we can get away without beingseen--I doubt if these West Indians would notice a periscope--and ifit _is_ the schooner we want, we can either run alongside andboard her or else keep watch at a safe distance and perhaps securevaluable information as to her objective."

  A few moments later only the submarine's periscope was visible abovethe sea, and below, Rawlins, Mr. Pauling and the navigating officerkept their eyes glued to the eye-pieces. Now the schooner was plainlyvisible, even from the low elevation of the periscope, and as theydrew ever nearer Rawlins noticed something peculiar about her.Although she had all lower sails spread they were drawing but littlein the light wind and yet she was moving at a fairly good speed.

  "I'll be hanged!" Rawlins suddenly exclaimed. "She's being towed!"

  "Being towed?" repeated Mr. Pauling. "There's nothing towing her."

  "Nothing!" almost shouted the diver. "Nothing! By all that's holyshe's being towed by a submarine!"

  "Yes, Sir; that's what she is, Sir," responded the navigator inmatter-of-fact tones. "Shall we put a shot across her bows, Sir?"

  Mr. Pauling burst out laughing despite the excitement and surprise oftheir discovery. "This is not wartime," he replied. "We'd get into noend of trouble by such methods. That schooner is flying the Britishflag and for all we know to the contrary is an honest vessel indistress being towed by one of our own submarines."

  "What the deuce is up now!" interrupted Rawlins. "Look there! She'sstopped! Say, yes, darned if she isn't. Jumping jiminy, the sub's cutloose!"

  "She's no longer moving," admitted Mr. Henderson. "Perhaps they'rewaiting for us."

  "No, the sub's gone!" declared Rawlins. "Don't you think so,Quartermaster?"

  The quartermaster, a grizzled but husky old sea dog, gazed silentlyfor a minute.

  "Yes, Sir," he replied, "she seems to has, Sir. Sorry we couldn't havebumped her, Sir."

  By now the schooner wa
s close at hand and Rawlins was on the point ofsuggesting that they should run alongside and board her when Frankshouted that there was a queer noise in the receivers.

  "It sounds like a hard wind or an electric fan," he cried. "Come onand listen. What do you suppose it is?"

  "The sub's screw!" replied Rawlins. "I'll bet she's hustling. Shall weboard that schooner?"

  "Better," replied Mr. Pauling, and orders were at once given toemerge. As the submarine, her decks awash, approached the schooner,those upon the under-sea boat's superstructure gazed curiously at thecraft they had overhauled. That she was the missing schooner they hadsought all were sure, for she fitted the descriptions perfectly andthe fact that she had been towed by a submarine was still furtherevidence. They were now within a few hundred yards and yet not a soulhad appeared upon the schooner's decks.

  "Darned if she isn't deserted again!" exclaimed Rawlins. "I'll----"

  At that instant the schooner's masts seemed to spring into the air; aburst of flames and smoke shot from her decks, there was a terrificdetonation and as the submarine rolled, pitched and rocked to theforce of the explosion those upon her clutched wildly for supportwhile all about fell bits of torn and shattered rigging, spars andcanvas. Scared and white-faced those upon the submarine stared at oneanother, steadying themselves with their grasp of the handrails,soaked to the waist by the great waves that had washed over thehalf-submerged craft and speechless with the surprise and shock of theexplosion. Only bits of wreckage marked the schooner. She had beenblown to atoms.