Home > Authors Index > G. Harvey Ralphson > Boy Scouts in the North Sea > This page
Boy Scouts in the North Sea, a fiction by G. Harvey Ralphson |
||
CHAPTER XIX. MACKINDER AGAIN |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER XIX. MACKINDER AGAIN Even as the five boys glanced at each other with startled and wondering looks, the thumping ceased abruptly. In a short space it was resumed. Instinctively the boys gathered near the spot. While they stood there trying to determine the cause for the strange procedure, the noise ceased. They heard a tapping at one of the portholes. Jimmie rushed across the compartment to investigate. "Hey, fellows, come over here a minute!" he called out. "What have you found now?" questioned Ned, obeying the request. "Here's this chap, and he's making all sorts of signals!" "That's funny!" puzzled Ned. "Can you make out what he wants?" "He's making his hands go in the strangest way! I'm sure I can't interpret such motions unless he wants us to turn around while he places a bomb or something close enough to blow us out of the water." "I know what he wants!" shouted Harry, who had been closely observing the stranger's repetition of the strange motions. "He wants us to open the valve leading from that sea cock where he has been working!" "Fine business!" scorned Jimmie. "Open up the sea cock and let the ocean come running all over our nice carpets! I guess not!" "I'm going to try it, anyway!" declared Harry. "If a little water does come in, the pumps will take care of it before it becomes dangerous. At least, it's well worth trying!" "Go ahead, then, but don't blame me if anything happens!" Harry moved to the vicinity of the spot where the stranger had been occupied but a few moments before. Jimmie was at the porthole. A turn of the valve resulted in a sudden short inrush of water. This ceased abruptly, bringing forth an exultant cry from Harry, while the other boys crowded around, speculating on the cause. "I've got it!" cried Harry, dancing about the compartment. "I know what he's going to do. Go to the porthole, Jimmie, and see where our friend is now. Tell me just what he's doing. I'm going to stand guard over this valve here for a while in case something happens." "He's going back into his little cage!" stated Jimmie from his position. "He's just shutting the outer door." "Stand by to see something happen now, boys!" announced Harry. "What's going to happen, Harry?" asked Jack. Before Harry could answer, a sputter of water and air was observed at the open valve. A small quantity of water was blown out of the pipe. Following this came a rush of sweet, pure air that was very grateful to the boys after they had been using the vitiated atmosphere of their craft. In fact, the lads were much nearer the complete exhaustion of their supply of usable atmosphere than they really comprehended. "Um-m-m!" exclaimed Jimmie, inhaling great draughts of the incoming current. "Smell that, will you? It's just like a posy bed!" "That's quite remarkable!" declared Ned, as he, too, sniffed the new atmosphere. "It does really seem to carry the odor of flowers!" "Maybe it's a sort of gas that he's unloading on us to render us unconscious, so he can capture the whole outfit!" conjectured Jack. "I don't believe it!" protested Ned. "I'm quite convinced that this is pure air. He seems to have quite a lot of it stored up!" "Let's pump out some of this foul air and change with the new!" "Go ahead!" consented Ned. "It's a good move, I'm sure!" In a short time the boys began to feel the effects of the inflow of vitalized atmosphere. They were livelier, with less depression. Directly their attention was attracted to the porthole again by a tapping. The stranger was once more trying to convey some information by signs. He repeated the motions of a short time before. "I got you!" cried Harry, holding up a hand as a sign of understanding. "He wants us to shut the valve off. Perhaps he's given us all the nice fresh air that he feels it possible to spare!" "Shut the valve, then," directed Ned. "What's next?" spoke up Jimmie, listening to a slight hammering outside of the hull. "He's disconnecting the pipe now!" "Better wait a bit and see what he wants us to do," cautioned Ned. "Maybe he's going to cut the line out of our propeller." The lad's prediction was correct. In a very few moments they could hear the stranger working away at the encumbering line which held their propeller in a vise-like grip. Not many minutes passed before the stranger again appeared at the porthole. Making a few signals easily comprehended by all, he repaired to his own craft, entering and closing the door of the air lock. Almost immediately the other craft began to ascend perpendicularly. "Guess we may as well make a mooch!" stated Jimmie, as he watched the other submarine rise out of their range of vision. "We're done here!" "All right, let's get going!" agreed Harry, stepping toward the levers and preparing to start the motors at the pilot's command. At once Jimmie sprang to the wheel. He gave a pull at the bell cord, jangling out a "go ahead" signal to Harry. As the latter touched the levers a startling crash at the stern of the craft was heard. The motors spun the shaft around futilely without making headway. With blanched faces the lads glanced about the craft. Harry's hand instinctively sought the levers again to turn off the current. "What's the matter?" called Jimmie from his position. "I don't know!" declared Harry. "It sounded as if that fellow had tied a can to us and we'd set it going! What did he do?" "Let's pump the ballast out and rise straight to the surface," suggested Ned. "I noticed that he did that. Maybe there's a reason!" Harry lost no time in acting on this suggestion. The electric pumps were not long in emptying the ballast tanks. With this weight removed, the boat quickly shot upward to the surface. As the conning tower portholes rose above the surface, the boys noticed that the afternoon was far spent. Darkness already was gathering. Ned was working frantically at the clamps securing the hatch cover. With a cry of delight he swung the cover out of position, admitting a cool breeze. The wind had died down, leaving the surface of the ocean comparatively smooth. Sufficient breeze was moving, however, to serve the purpose of airing out the interior of the craft without putting the great fans into commission. All the boys came to the tiny deck. Lying but a few fathoms from their port side they discerned the other submarine. Clearly distinguishable on the sides were the great letters "U-13" painted in almost exact duplicate of those on their own boat. "What do you know about that?" was Jimmie's surprised exclamation. "If that fellow isn't a dead ringer for this ship, I'm a Dutchman!" "He surely does look a whole lot like us!" agreed Ned. "I say, Frank," put in Harry eagerly, "is that the fellow that sank the ship you were on? Can you identify it now?" Frank shook his head hesitatingly before he answered slowly: "Boys, I hate to say it, but it looks as like the other as two peas. I would not like to make an affidavit, but I'm willing to say that it bears a most remarkable resemblance to that other one, if it is 'other'!" "Then, I guess we're done for!" despaired Jack. "If that's a German craft, we may as well hoist the white flag now and surrender!" "Think they'll take us back to Germany?" asked Ned quizzically. "I'm sure of it!" declared the boy. "And we won't stand much show, either, when they find that we've stolen this ship away from Helgoland!" "Goodness!" exclaimed Ned suddenly. "I declare I'd actually forgotten that we were on board a stolen submarine. That does make it look rather dubious for us. We are in a pretty mess!" he added. "Here comes someone now!" announced Jimmie. "Watch the hatch!" A movement of the hatch cover on the other vessel indicated that someone was about to appear on deck. Slowly a figure stepped forth. The stranger was of medium build, and wore a suit of blue with a round hat to match. He was carefully dressed. After taking a long survey of the group on the deck of the false "U-13," he waved a hand in welcome. "He wants us to come over and pay him a visit!" stated Jimmie. "Why don't you accept, then?" inquired Ned. "We're into it now and may as well be sociable. Being balky won't help matters any!" "I would if we had a boat," announced the other. "Maybe the real 'U-13' there has a boat they'd spare," suggested Jack. "Why don't you hail and ask him if he won't send a boat?" "Hail him yourself if you want to! Maybe he don't talk English!" "Try him on United States then!" laughed Jack. "I would!" "Help yourself!" said Jimmie, leaning back against the rail. "Ahoy the submarine!" shouted Jack in response to this suggestion. "We haven't a boat or we'd come over. Can you send a boat to us?" Waving an arm as if comprehending the lad's statement and inquiry the figure on the other vessel clambered quickly to the after deck. After a moment's fumbling at what appeared to be a lock, he lifted a cover. In a short time the boys saw him drag from its place a small, light, steel boat. This was at once launched over the side. Running out upon a light iron ladder the man dropped into the rowboat. He sculled the small craft quickly over the intervening distance and was soon alongside. "Come aboard, sir," invited Ned, reaching out a hand to assist. "Good night!" ejaculated Jimmie. "How did you ever get here so quickly, Mackinder? We thought you were aboard that warship!" "I've been here a long time!" laughed the other, looking at the lad. "You've made a quick trip, all right!" returned Jimmie. The others crowded forward with eager, questioning looks. Upon the face of each was to be seen amazement, wonder and perplexity. "Come aboard, Mackinder," invited Ned. "We'd like to hear an explanation of the strange goings on hereabouts. Can you help us?" "First, I'd like to hear your explanations," stated the newcomer. "But before you start your story, please tell me why you call me Mackinder." "Isn't that your name?" asked Jimmie. "Tell us that!" "Yes, that's my name, you know!" replied the stranger, smilingly. "But how did you happen to know it? I'm rather puzzled, you know!" "Why, you told us yourself on the train running into Amsterdam!" stated Jimmie, with rising indignation. "Then we called you by that name while you were trying to delay our start. Also Captain von Kluck used that name when he referred to you. I guess it's your name all right!" "I don't deny that!" stated the newcomer. "What puzzles me is how you chaps know it so quickly, don't you know." "It don't make much difference how we know the name so quickly," went on Jimmie. "We'd know you anywhere we saw you. We'd especially recognize that hand with the scar! That's a dead giveaway!" The newcomer glanced quickly at his right hand, which Jimmie had indicated. As he brought it up to view, the boys could see a jagged scar running clear across the back. They had seen such a scar before. With an accusing finger pointing at the disfigurement, Jimmie snapped out in crisp accents that indicated plainly his excitement: "That's the same hand that tied and gagged me in the warehouse in Amsterdam, and the same hand that I saw shoved into the window of the frontier hut to get the 'U-13' package. Deny it if you can!" "I am not going to deny anything, you know!" returned the other coolly. "You seem so positive about it there's little use denying!" "You bet there's no use denying anything like that!" declared Jimmie with some heat. "You can't deny that you tried to sic the German torpedo boat destroyer onto us, either. You can't deny that you sneaked away from this very submarine when I was painting the name on the bow. You'd better not try to deny that you showed us to the British gunboat a while ago and got them to fire at us. If you start denying anything," the boy went on, "I'm going to deny that I'm neutral!" With a laugh the newcomer threw back his head in amused fashion. "Have your own way about it, you know," he replied, "but I'm going to tell you one thing. I'm not Mackinder!" _ |
||