CHAPTER V
TWO MYSTERIOUS CHANGES
“Hey, you!” shouted Jimmie, dashing across the street in the direction of the queer outfit. “Come here! I want to see you!”
The pseudo milk vendor gave a quick glance at the approaching boy. A street lamp cast a flickering glare upon the automatic which Jimmie had drawn from his pocket. Without waiting to explain or ask questions the person addressed deserted the dog team instantly.
With but a single look over its shoulder the figure darted toward a building at the head of the quay. Boots clattered on the pavement, while the long stride clearly indicated to the boys that Jimmie and Jack had been correct in their surmise that the garb of a woman milk vendor had been assumed as a disguise.
Although Jimmie’s speed was great, the lad’s sprint was not sufficient to permit him to overtake his quarry.
“He’ll never make it!” declared Jack, tugging away at his own automatic and preparing to follow his comrade.
“Come on, fellows, let’s get a move on!” suggested Harry. “That fellow will just about get into a corner somewhere and knock Jimmie over the head. He’s capable of worse than that, I believe!”
All three lads hastened after the fleeing figure of their red-headed chum and the one whom he was pursuing.
An open door in the building indicated that the race had turned in that direction. Producing an electric searchlight Ned urged caution. Directly the lads heard the sound of a falling body. This was at once followed by an exclamation of surprise and disgust. They recognized the tones as those of their companion.
“Are you there, Jimmie?” called Ned, swinging the beam from his searchlight about the interior, lighting up a collection of merchandise piled in the warehouse. Jimmie was nowhere to be seen.
“Where could he have gone so suddenly?” queried Harry.
“Maybe Mackinder hit him over the head!” ventured Jack.
“Mackinder better be careful how he monkeys with this crew!” was Harry’s belligerent comment. “Maybe that guy’ll get all that’s coming to him and get it right in the neck!”
For a moment the boys stood listening intently for some indication of the presence of their comrade. Once Ned thought he heard a soft footfall. He put out his hand to touch Jack on the arm.
“Ss-s-sh!” he hissed. “What was that?”
“Rat, maybe!” suggested Jack. “Turn your searchlight this way a minute. I want to see where this passage leads.”
Ned swung the searchlight in the direction indicated. Its lance of flame pierced the gloom, revealing tiers of boxes and piles of bags and bales heaped up in orderly array. Sufficient space had been left between the heaps of merchandise to provide passageway.
“Come on,” cried Jack, “we’re losing time standing here!”
Scarcely had the boy uttered the words ere an object came hurtling through the air. It struck the searchlight fairly upon the lens. There was a quick cry of distress from Ned, a rattle of broken glass, the tinkle of the falling searchlight. For a moment complete silence reigned. The next instant there was a rush of a heavy body.
Taken by surprise the boys were not prepared for the onslaught. They went down like ten pins. Harry received a blow on the jaw that nearly put him out for the count. Jack declared afterwards that his stomach would never cease aching from the punch that landed there.
Ned had been bringing up the rear of the little party, hence suffered least. He felt about quickly for the searchlight as he lay on the floor. Before he could recover it the boys heard the outer door slam and knew that someone had passed out of the building after the sudden attack. Who it might have been they could only conjecture.
“Oh, my poor jaw!” groaned Harry. “I’m knocked out!”
“No, you’re not!” protested Ned. “That only shook you up!”
“Sure!” agreed Jack. “Shook us all up so we’ll get a little more ‘pep’. Let’s hurry up and follow that guy!”
“Wait a minute,” objected Ned. “We want to find Jimmie first!”
“Right-O!” agreed Harry. “I think my jaw is better now. Where are we going, anyway? Do you suppose that was Jimmie that floored us just now? Maybe he thought Mackinder had pals coming in!”
“I don’t believe it,” stated Ned. “Jimmie must have known that Mackinder was alone with the milk wagon. He also knew that we would follow him here. Possibly the lad is farther along in the warehouse, lost amongst this merchandise. That must have been Mackinder!”
“You’re right, Ned!” declared Jack. “He probably misled Jimmie in here and then dashed out as we came in!”
“But where is Jimmie now?” queried Harry. “I don’t hear him!”
“Oh, Jimmie!” called Ned in a loud tone.
To this hail there was no answer. Complete silence reigned.
“That’s mighty funny!” puzzled Harry. “Get your searchlight and let’s hunt him up. He can’t have gotten far away.”
A short search by all three boys resulted in the recovery of the searchlight. Beyond the damaged lens the instrument had suffered no injury. It was still serviceable and cast a strong beam of light.
By its aid the lads followed the passage, stepping rapidly forward. They were becoming alarmed over the failure of their chum to respond to their calls. All feared that Mackinder might have done the lad harm. Momentarily their anxiety increased.
“Here’s a side passage!” declared Harry, who brought up the rear of the little procession. “Where does this go?”
“Wait a minute with that searchlight, Ned!” called Jack, who followed Ned closely. “Throw it back here a minute for Harry!”
Before the light could be brought into service Harry had taken a step into the passage he had just discovered. A sharp cry of surprise brought Jack and Ned to his side in an instant.
The lads saw Harry bending over the form of their missing chum. Jimmie lay in a heap, blocking the passageway.
Fearful that their first suspicions had been correct, the boys scarcely dared investigate. Jack began growling out uncomplimentary remarks concerning Mackinder. Ned quickly forced his way to Harry’s side.
“Here, let me see him!” Ned cried, throwing the flame of his searchlight on the recumbent form. “Why, he’s all huddled up!”
“All in a bunch!” agreed Harry. “I wonder if he’s hurt!”
“Roll him over,” directed Ned. “Let’s get him out of here!”
“Why, he’s tied!” cried Harry, in a startled voice.
“Tied?” questioned Jack, pushing forward. “Who tied him?”
“And gagged!” went on Harry, his voice vibrating with indignation. “Mackinder will pay for this!” the lad continued. “We’ll get him!”
Without the loss of a moment Harry was swiftly relieving Jimmie of the object which prevented speech. A small block of wood had been forced between Jimmie’s teeth. This had been secured in place by tying a handkerchief over his face. The gag had been extremely effective, even though it was uncomfortable and crude.
As the gag was removed Jimmie wagged his jaw a few times to relieve the strained muscles. He nodded his appreciation.
“How are you feeling, Jimmie?” was Ned’s solicitous inquiry.
“All right,” replied the lad. “Untie my hands, will you?”
“Gee, but you’re an artist, Jimmie!” cried Jack. “We’ll get you a job as ‘Tricko, The Handcuff King’! I want to say right now,” the boy went on in mock seriousness, “there are very few people who can tie themselves up so completely and so quickly as this job has been done!”
“You win the argument!” decided Jimmie, ironically. “If I get my tutor where I can lay hands on him I’ll show him a trick or two that wasn’t in the first chapter. He’s in for some instruction all right!”
“What happened, Jimmie?” asked Ned, carefully passing his knife through the bonds that confined the other’s hands and feet.
“Well, when I came slamming along into the warehouse I was only a few feet behind the milk maid!” began Jimmie. “I at once crept in on tiptoe, because I reasoned that he would be slugging along, making considerable noise. I didn’t know that there were goods in here.
“I couldn’t see him anywhere. From that I concluded that he had either stopped or had taken to tiptoeing, too. I had my ‘gat’ ready and started in. I felt along the bales and boxes a ways. Just as I heard you fellows come into the door something tripped me and down I went.
“Before I could say a word he had shoved that thing into my mouth, pulled a handkerchief out of my pocket, tied it around my face and then tied my hands together under my knees. Say,” the lad continued earnestly, “that guy never got his knowledge out of a correspondence course! He’s been there and helped skin ’em! He’s smooth!”
“Where’s your automatic?” asked Harry.
“I don’t know,” replied Jimmie. “Let’s have the bug a minute. I’m sure I heard it fall, but I can’t say whether Mackinder got it or not!”
“Mackinder?” questioned Ned. “How do you know it was he?”
“Because as he was tying my hands together I had a chance to feel of the back of his right hand. I could feel the scar as plainly as could be. It was the same scar I saw before he started to run and the same scar I saw when the ‘U-13’ package was pinched!”
“I’d like to take a poke at him just for luck!” declared Jack.
“I don’t know about that,” stated Jimmie. “I can’t help but admire a fellow as capable as he is. He tied me up so quickly and cleverly and yet so effectively. I’d like to take lessons of him!”
“Here’s your gun!” joyously announced Harry. “And here’s the milkmaid’s dress he shed in here after he trussed you up.”
“Now, then,” began Ned, as the party was again complete and ready for action, “let’s get out of here and get our baggage.”
“Let’s get Mackinder first,” proposed Jack.
“I vote ‘No’ on that question, Mr. Chairman!” declared Jimmie.
“Why?” questioned Jack, with surprise. “What’s the matter?”
“Well, there are several matters!” declared Jimmie. “I don’t feel that we’d gain anything by chasing him. The ‘U-13’ package is not in our possession and he knows it. Besides, he’s a clever guy and we might get the worst of it if we step out of our way to go after him.”
“I agree with Jimmie,” announced Ned. “Let’s get aboard the Lena Garlic and get started on our way as soon as possible.”
“You mean Lena Knobloch!” corrected Harry.
“It’s the same thing!” declared Ned. “Knobloch means garlic!”
“All right, then, let’s get going!” agreed Jack.
The boys lost little time in proceeding to their hotel, where they went directly to their room. Here a scene of confusion awaited them. Their possessions lay scattered around in disorder.
“Well, Great Frozen Hot Boxes!” cried Jimmie. “What’s this?”
“Mackinder and Norton again, I’ll bet my head!” said Jack.
“Weren’t satisfied with their first search,” agreed Jimmie.
“Came back here and went through everything. Then I’ll bet Mackinder grabbed that milk cart and dogs, slipped on an old lady’s dress and chased down to the dock to see if he could stop us!” put in Jack. “When he found we were armed he just cut it and ran away!”
“Boys, we will do well to pack up and get aboard that vessel as quickly as possible!” declared Ned. “Through a mistake we’re under suspicion, and it won’t pay us to remain here another minute!”
Replacing their belongings in the bags with skill and despatch the lads were soon ready. They at once proceeded to the dock.
Tramping aboard they proceeded to the cabin at the after end of the vessel. Entering they discovered Captain von Kluck seated at the little table. Before him was a bottle and a glass.
“Well, Captain,” began Ned, “we’re here and ready to go!”
“So-o-o?” queried von Kluck. “Vhell, if you’re reatty to go, vhy go! But you don’d go on dis schip. Vhe don’d carry bassengers!”
CHAPTER VI
A DIFFICULT DEPARTURE
Astounded at the statement of the captain, whom they had begun to regard as a friend but whose present manner indicated anything but friendship, the boys glanced at each other in some degree of alarm.
“Just what do you mean by that, Captain?” inquired Ned. “I thought it was understood that we were to have passage on your boat!”
“Vhell, den I forgot dot vhe don’d carry bassengers!”
“And I suppose it took Mackinder to refresh your memory!” snapped Jimmie, stepping forward with an outward thrust of his chin.
At the mention of Mackinder’s name the captain gave a quick start. His glance at Jimmie was one of uneasiness and alarm.
“Vot do you know about Mackinter?” he inquired.
“I know this,” stated Jimmie, angrily. “He’s a fake and if you know when you’re well off you’ll let go your lines right now!”
“Yes, Captain,” added Ned, “we found Mackinder trying to detain us because he fancies we have done something wrong or because he thinks we have something he wants. Who he may be we don’t know!”
“I know!” stated the captain, stoutly. “I know dot feller is a officer in der British army, und vhen he says shtay, den I shtay!”
“An officer in the British army!” gasped Jimmie.
“I think I see now why he wants that package!” declared Ned. “He thinks that we are bringing some instructions or something to the submarine named ‘U-13’ and he’s trying to intercept the despatches!”
“Well, he’s welcome to the ‘U-13’ package as far as we’re concerned!” maintained Jimmie. “What we want is to get home to the little old U. S. A., and that right quick. So, Captain, we’ll go now, if you please!”
“No!” decided the captain bluntly. “Vhe don’d go!”
“But you may listen to reason!” said Jimmie, drawing his automatic. “I don’t like to hold you up, but you’re going to get out of town right now and we’re going with you!”
“Put dot gun oop!” cried the captain, starting from his seat.
“I will on one condition!” declared the boy. “If you get under way at once without any more monkey business I’ll keep it in my pocket. If you don’t I’ll use it! We are neutral and we’re going to remain neutral if we have to fight to do so!”
“Vhell, I guess dere’s no real goot reason vhy vhe shouldn’t go, anyhow!” decided the captain. “Mackinter don’d got no license to shtop us. Aber he don’d like id, he couldt lump id!”
“Now you’re talking sense!” declared Jimmie. “But, remember! No tricks, or we’ll feel like starting something ourselves!”
“All right!” consented von Kluck, secretly anxious to help the boys. “Chust come along und make me leaf port. Dot let’s me ouid!”
Upon von Kluck’s appearing at the companionway the crew immediately assumed an air of attention. Some were grouped about the capstan, where they were watching the sky and speculating on the character of the approaching storm. Others were occupied at various duties about the vessel. Every man seemed to stand in fear of the captain.
Bawling out a hoarse order, von Kluck at once assumed command of the deck. Lines were thrown down from the belaying pins. A group of men tailed onto the halyards, hoisting the foresail, staysail and jib.
The Lena Knobloch was a schooner-rigged vessel with two masts. The boys noted with a considerable degree of satisfaction that she was built along clipper lines, vastly different from the round-bowed type of vessel commonly seen in those waters.
Under jib, staysail and foresail the vessel swung around as the dock lines were let go. Gathering speed with the force of a favorable wind the little vessel plunged ahead. Von Kluck was evidently planning on leaving the harbor without the use of a tug—a somewhat difficult, if not dangerous, experiment.
Urged by the vociferous driving of the mate men were already hauling on the halyards of the mainsail. With the added press of sail the Lena Knobloch heeled over until her lee rail was nearly awash.
A strong wind was coming out of the northwest, favoring the maneuver of von Kluck, but kicking up considerable commotion on the harbor. Waves were running so high as to make navigation of small craft exceedingly difficult if not dangerous.
Carrying full staysail, jib, foresail and mainsail the schooner plunged into the waves, sending cascades of water over her forecastle with every leap. She was loaded deeply and the boys could see that she would prove to be what the sailors term a “wet ship.”
Every moment the speed was increasing. The mate had trimmed the sheets to the exact point for greatest efficiency.
Suddenly all hands were startled by a hail from a point on the starboard bow. They saw a small motor boat riding dizzily upon the crest of a wave one moment to be dropped out of sight in the trough the next.
“Ahoy, the Knobloch!” came a cry.
“Ahoy, the launch!” bawled out the mate in a voice of thunder. “What do you want? Stand off or we’ll run you down!”
“We want those passengers of yours!” was the reply.
“All right, come on and get ’em!” yelled the mate above the noise of singing wind in the rigging. “We can’t stop now!”
“If you don’t heave to I’ll fire!” was the answer.
“Good night!” cried Jimmie from a position near the lee rail, where he could look out beneath the main boom. “That’s Mackinder!”
A revolver shot sounded amidst the tumult of rushing waters and singing rigging. The echo was quickly bitten off by the rising wind. The shot sounded dully above the humming and roaring.
Before Ned could detain him Jimmie fired. Faintly the boys heard a crash aboard the motor boat. The green starboard sidelight of the launch disappeared. Urged on by the tremendous press of wind in her sails the Lena Knobloch was fast dropping the launch astern.
No other shots were fired at the schooner. Scrambling from his position at the starboard rail Jimmie made his way aft to a point beside the helmsman. Here he peered eagerly into the darkness astern.
“I can’t see them at all!” he announced, turning presently to his companions, who were grouped about the little skylight.
“Perhaps we’ve shaken them off for keeps!” ventured Jack. “Did you see who that was with Mackinder?”
“I thought,” said Harry, “that it was his pal, Norton!”
“Well, they’re safely out of reach now!” declared Ned. “I’m glad of it, too! If we can hold on at this gait we’ll soon reach a port in England, where we can transship the Grey Eagle and get home.”
“I only hope the real ‘U-13’ doesn’t come along and demand that package from us!” laughed Harry. “They might take a notion to send us to the bottom if we don’t deliver it on demand!”
“Let us hope they’re busy on the west coast of England by this time!” suggested Jack. “I don’t want any more ‘U-13’ in mine!”
“Vhat’s dot about der ‘U-13’?” inquired von Kluck, coming up to the little group. “Is id der ‘U-13’ dot you’re skipping?”
In a few words Ned related the important details of their experience with the ‘U-13’ package and with Mackinder.
“And so,” the boy concluded, “we were just hoping that the real ‘U-13’ wouldn’t show up and claim the package that we haven’t got!”
“No danger!” reassured von Kluck. “Dis vindt keeps dose fellers under vasser deep! Dey like rough vedder not at all!”
“Hurrah!” joyfully cried Jimmie. “Blow, winds; blow hard!” the lad continued, stretching his hands to windward in an appealing attitude. “Blow hard enough to keep the submarines submarooned!”
A laugh went round as the boys listened to Jimmie’s coined word. They were all heartily in sympathy with the expressed wish that the wind would blow hard enough to keep the submarines from the surface.
“But, den,” continued von Kluck, with a frown that wrinkled his heavy brows, “dot’s not all. Dere’s mines floatin’ round der Nord Sea dot dem verdom Deutsches blanted. Maybe vhe hit one of dem und if vhe do—”
Here the captain shrugged his shoulders, spreading his hands palm upward, and extending them with a final toss aloft to indicate the hopelessness of a situation such as he intimated might befall them.
“Can’t we dodge a mine?” queried Jimmie.
“Sure, if vhe can see id!” declared von Kluck.
“That’s the trouble,” explained Ned. “These mines float deep and before a ship can know of its danger—Bang!”
“Well, Ned,” announced Jimmie with a grin, as he wrinkled his freckled nose, “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll bet you my old hat that if we do hit a mine and get blown up I go higher than you do!”
“All right,” agreed Ned, laughing in spite of the seriousness of the situation. “We’ll ask von Kluck to be the judge.”
“Von Kluck don’t seem to be very much worried over the prospect of hitting a mine!” declared Jimmie. “I guess we’re all right!”
“Und now,” announced the captain, “come to der cabin und eat!”
The boys needed no second invitation. They were soon seated about the little table, where they found great slabs of cheese set out on a plate. Loaves of hard, black bread were placed upon the table by the steward, who withdrew to presently reappear bearing a great pot of steaming coffee. Von Kluck refreshed himself with a glass of his beloved “schnapps,” then fell to heartily upon the bread and cheese, motioning to the boys to do likewise.
With considerable relish the lads made a good lunch off the bread and cheese and coffee. Hard and dark, but possessing considerable nutriment, the bread was not at all unpleasant to the taste. It had been plentifully seasoned with small seeds, which lent an appetizing flavor.
Shortly after finishing their lunch the boys again gained the deck, to find the mate actively driving the men in their various duties. The wind still came out of the northwest with a stinging snap. Ned declared that he could feel rain approaching.
“Feels to me more like snow!” stated Jimmie, sniffing to windward. “We’ll be getting outside the Friesian Islands soon and then we’ll find out what’s coming. We’re somewhat protected here.”
“How long will it be before we pass into the North Sea, Captain von Kluck?” asked Ned of the captain, who approached.
“Vhe might make id by morning,” stated the captain. “I vish I make a swift voyage dis time. If Mackinter gets news to England ahead of me, maybe he makes droubles by das Lena Knobloch.”
“So you’re carrying all the canvas you dare?” asked Harry.
“Chust now, yes! Maybe vhen vhe come about und head up into der vindt vhe get oop der tops’ls und put oop under vun chib. I reach off a goot vays und leaf Amsterdam und der vest coast of der Zuider Zee, den I make vun straight reach und run ouid by Eijerlandsche Gut.”
“Then I’m going below to try for a little sleep!” declared Jimmie. “I’m not needed on deck and this wind is too cold for comfort!”
“I’ll go with you and keep you company,” volunteered Jack.
“We’ll all go,” added Harry. “Come on, Ned.”
Clinging to hand rails the lads scrambled below. The deck leaned at an angle that made walking almost impossible. Every plunge sent shivers through the little vessel. Tons of water broke over the bows and dashed along the planks to rush hissing through the scuppers.
In the cabin a lamp swung wildly from a beam overhead, throwing weird, dancing shadows on the bulkheads. Here the noises of the wind were hushed. Only a moaning from the taut rigging reached the ears of the four lads. But the cabin was full of eerie sounds of creaking timbers and straining planks. For some time the boys lay on lockers listening to the confusion of noises. Presently they fell asleep.
They were wakened by the sound of tramping feet on deck, and knew that some maneuver was about to be executed. Coils of rigging were flung on deck. The stentorian voice of the mate bawled out orders.
“Stand by to come about!” roared von Kluck over their heads.
CHAPTER VII
A WARNING FROM THE SEA
Springing from their resting places the four boys staggered up the unsteady companionway. As they gained the deck they were assailed by terrific gusts of wind carrying sleet and snow. During their stay below the weather had turned colder, bringing fitful dashes of sleet out of the north. The schooner presently rode easier.
A hoarse order from forward was followed by a clanking of the cable through the hawse pipes. The sails rattled with great slapping noises as the Lena Knobloch rode to her anchor.
Men were instantly aloft securing the lighter topsails. With a run the foresail and mainsail were lowered and furled. The staysail and jib had but a moment before been lowered as the schooner was headed into the wind. Under bare poles they rode on gentler swells.
“Where are we?” asked Harry, throwing up an arm to protect his face. “Have we reached England yet? Where is the captain?”
“Vhell, how do you like id now?” roared the voice of von Kluck almost at Harry’s elbow. “Vhat you tink of dis for some shtorm?”
“This is fierce!” replied the lad, bracing himself against the wind. “Where are we now, Captain von Kluck?”
“Under der lee of one of der Friesian Islands,” replied the captain. “I see some rocks aheadt und dere is a big shteamer in drouble oop to vindvard. I hope she makes id into safety, bud I don’d know!”
Shaking his head doubtfully the captain went away forward. Presently he returned, still shaking his head. The crew except the captain and the mate were gathered forward round the capstan.
“Dere’s rocks dere—lots of dem!” announced von Kluck. “Dot wessel looks like she’s lost her rutter, und if she gets off dem rocks dot captain needs a medal. I tink he’s a goner, sure!”
It did, indeed, appear as if von Kluck was right. A big cargo steamer, now dimly discernible to the boys, was rolling in the trough of a heavy sea, urged on by a vicious wind from the northwest. Her range lights showed clearly at the mast heads. A gleam of red indicated that the vessel was showing her port side. With every roll great masses of water boarded the weather rail, sweeping the decks of every movable object.
“Look!” cried the mate, excitedly pointing toward the steamer.
There was no need of explanation. A great mass of rock directly in the path upon which the steamer was drifting sent gigantic columns of water into the air with every wave. Although the eastern sky showed a tinge of gray the blackness upon the water was intense. It was lightened momentarily by the white smother of spray and foam cast upward as wave after wave broke upon the black and threatening menace lying immediately before the apparently doomed vessel.
“Py golly, he’s all right!” yelled von Kluck in a moment. “He’s lost dot rutter und he’s backing on his enchines! He’ll make id!”
Surely enough the steamer’s captain was executing the very maneuver at which von Kluck had guessed. By backing on his engines he succeeded in drawing the vessel so far to one side of the dangerous rock that it was passed. Only a margin extremely narrow intervened.
But the danger had not passed. Another rock threatened to tear to pieces the all but helpless vessel. With straining eyes and beating hearts the lads watched anxiously as this danger was also cleared.
They clung to the weather shrouds in spite of the whip-like sting of sleet and spray, watching the struggle against wind, wave and rock.
At length the vessel won through the dangerous places. It was now so close that the boys could make out the details of the rigging. Ned procured a pair of binoculars and spelled out the name.
“That steamer is the Anne of Melbourne,” he announced. “I wonder if it isn’t an Australian vessel. They have had a hard time of it.”
“She’s close to us now,” cried Harry. “I wonder what they’ll do.”
“If they’re wise they’ll let go an anchor and ride it out,” answered Jimmie. “If I had sense enough to bring a vessel through a tight place like that I’d get a hook overboard as soon as I could.”
“That’s just what they are doing!” announced Ned. “There’s a group of men at the forward end preparing to get the anchor over.”
Directly the boys heard the rattle of the cable in the steamer’s hawse pipes, followed instantly by a great splash at the bow that told as plainly as words that the ground tackle was out.
Still feeling the heave of waves surging around the head of the island the steamer slowly swung to her cable. The range lights shifted their position. The red side light disappeared.
“She’s safe now!” cried Ned, in a tone of relief. “I’m glad they made it all right. I wonder how they got crippled.”
“Let me take the glasses a minute, Ned,” requested Harry.
“Can you see what’s the matter with her?” queried Jimmie.
“Yes,” replied the boy, with the glasses to his eye. “Von Kluck was right. It looks as if the rudder stock is twisted and bent badly out of shape. As the stern lifts I can see the blades of the propeller all right, but the rudder seems to be missing.”
“The Anne of Melbourne,” mused Ned. “I wonder now what that vessel is doing away off up here. If they had a cargo destined for an English port they should have been much farther south.”
“You don’t suppose the captain lost his reckoning and got this far out of his course, do you?” suggested Jimmie.
“I don’t know,” replied Ned. Then turning to Captain von Kluck the lad continued: “Captain, what do you think about it?”
“Mit der var doing so many tings, I don’d know what to tink!”
“I can see men moving about on deck now, apparently clearing up the recent damage,” stated Harry. “And I see a Boy Scout, too!”
“No!” objected Jimmie. “Don’t say that! I don’t want any more Boy Scouts mixed up in this! It isn’t fair!”
“Just the same, he’s there!” laughed Harry.
“Well, then,” stated Jimmie, with a sigh of resignation, “we are in for another siege of it. I never knew it to fail! Just as quickly as we get going somewhere and a Boy Scout shows up there’s trouble ahead and lots of it! Why can’t they stay home?”
“Now, Jimmie,” cautioned Ned, “you know we’ve never in all our adventures found a Boy Scout that really brought us ill luck. Sometimes they’ve caused us a lot of trouble, but usually they help!”
“That’s true, too, but I wish we could get home to the little old U. S. A. without mixing up in this ‘U-13’ business with the Boy Scouts!”
“Maybe it’ll come out all right after all,” soothed Ned.
“Maybe,” reluctantly agreed Jimmie. “I say, Harry,” he continued, “let me take those glasses. I want to see what that fellow’s like.”
Long and eagerly the lad peered through the binoculars.
“I see him!” he cried, presently. “He’s going up the foreshrouds! I’ll bet he’s working his passage on that steamer!”
“What’s he doing on the foreshrouds?” asked Ned.
“It looks as if something had fouled at the fore top,” replied Jimmie. “He’s going up to clear it, I guess. Oh, look!” the boy shouted. “He’s falling! He’s broken one of the ratlines and is falling!”
“I see him!” cried Ned. “I can see him!”
“Oh, good!” exclaimed Jimmie, the next moment. “He hit the shrouds and the steamer rolled at the right minute, throwing him clear of the deck. See that splash in the water?”
“I see it!” answered the others, together.
“Are they trying to help him?” asked Harry.
“Yes, they are,” stated Jimmie. “They’ve thrown him a ring buoy!”
“Can you see him now?” asked Ned.
“Yes, and he’s swimming. There must be a current in here that’s dragging him away from the steamer. The buoy fell short and he’s swimming directly away from the steamer. He’s coming towards us!”
Intently the lad watched the one in the water. He swam a good stroke resting easily, even though somewhat impeded by his clothing.
Now and again as the crest of a wave approached the swimmer his head was submerged, only to reappear again in the yeasty froth following the racing monster. Eagerly his progress was noted by all on board the schooner. They were at a loss to understand why he had left his own vessel to swim toward a strange craft.
Presently, however, as he approached the Lena Knobloch the lad’s strokes became more feeble. He was evidently tiring rapidly.
“Captain, what do you say to getting a boat over?” asked Ned.
“Vhait!” grunted von Kluck. “Id’s lots of vork to do id!”
“But the lad may need help!” urged Ned, eagerly.
“Vhell, if he needs id, I put him ofer. Nod before!”
Jimmie ran forward into the very eyes of the schooner. In his hands he grasped a ring buoy, to which was attached a goodly length of line. This he coiled ready to heave the buoy to the one in the water as soon as he should come within reach.
Just as Jimmie was measuring with his eye the distance separating the swimmer from his goal and preparing for a mighty throw of the buoy he noted that the other’s stroke was fast weakening.
With a jerk the Wolf unfastened and kicked loose a shoe. In an instant the other followed. A rapid movement loosened his jacket. A backward twist of his shoulders helped him slip from the garment.
One look over the rail showed that the swimmer was losing control of his muscles. Both hands went up into the air only to disappear beneath the crest of an oncoming wave. The boy stayed under.
“Stand by to get me, boys!” shouted Jimmie.
A splash told that he had gone overboard. His companions crowded eagerly to the rail, watching for his reappearance. In a moment they were relieved to see his red head come up close to the spot where the other had sunk. Emptying his lungs of the pent up air with a loud “Whoosh!” the boy instantly refilled them to plunge again under water.
To the intense satisfaction of those on board the schooner he again came quickly to the surface, this time dragging by the hair the boy to whose rescue he had gone. Swimming on his back, using but one hand, Jimmie slowly brought the other lad to a position where he could reach the buoy flung to him by Ned’s strong arm.
Harry had already made a bowline in a bight at the end of a line. This he passed over the side to Jimmie, who succeeded without difficulty in getting the loop over the shoulders of the rescued lad.
Soon both were on deck, where they received the attentions of all hands. Captain von Kluck insisted upon giving the newcomer a draught of “schnapps” to assist in the reviving process. As the fiery liquor burned its way down his throat the lad coughed violently.
Choking and spitting the lad clawed at his burning mouth and throat. Evidently he thought the cure worse than the disease.
“Let’s get into the cabin,” suggested Jimmie. “I’m freezing!”
“Sure enough!” cried Ned. “How thoughtless of us! Captain,” he added, “can you have the steward bring us some coffee?”
Roaring for the steward to perform this service, the captain picked up the nearly drowned lad in his strong arms. He deposited the boy on a locker in the cabin, then stood aside to permit his passengers to administer such assistance as they might.
Ned stepped forward to begin operations. With a cry he bent over the boy. Wonderingly the others crowded forward.
“Frank!” cried Ned, seizing the lad by the shoulders. “Frank! Speak to me! Frank, how did you get here?”
“Who is it?” asked Jimmie, elbowing his way into the group to a position where he could see the recumbent figure. “Why,” continued the boy in a tone of amazement, “if it ain’t old Frank Shaw of New York!”
A cup of steaming coffee at this moment brought by the steward was offered to the newcomer, who drank eagerly. He glanced about the group with a faint smile in answer to their puzzled looks.
“Look out for the ‘U-13’, boys!” he said.
CHAPTER VIII
MORE ABOUT THE “U-13”
“Frank Shaw!” cried Jimmie, crowding close to the lad lying on the locker. “What’s that you’re saying about the ‘U-13’?”
“I say ‘Look out for it,’ that’s all!”
“No, it isn’t all!” protested the boy. “Take another drink of this coffee and then brace up and tell us what you know! How did you get here and what and who and where and why is this ‘U-13’?”
Frank smiled as he struggled to a sitting posture.
“If you’ll rub the cramp out of that leg, boys, I’ll ‘fess up’ everything,” he began. “That leg feels as if some one were trying to pull some teeth out of it by the roots. A cramp is fierce.”
Two lads began massaging the offending member.
“If I’d known it was you swimming to us, I’d have lowered a boat myself and come to your assistance!” declared Jimmie.
“And if I’d known you were on board this schooner,” replied Frank, “I’d have left that ship long before I did!”
“Why, what’s the matter on that ship, Frank?” asked Ned.
“Oh, nothing, only it’s one of these ‘workhouses’ just exactly like we have read of. The captain is a hard nut and the mates are both of the ‘bucko’ type. There isn’t a man aboard who hasn’t got a mark from one or the other of the mates. They’re a tough crowd!”
“I’ll bet you didn’t just fall overboard, then!” shrewdly guessed Jimmie. “You missed your footing purposely! You know you did!”
“How do you know?” grinned Frank, nursing his cramped leg.
“I was watching through the binoculars,” answered Jimmie. “But go ahead and tell us something. We’re dying from curiosity!”
“Well,” began Frank, “you know I wasn’t quite satisfied to be left behind when you four lads left in chase of the fellow who had stolen the Panama plans. I wanted to go along in the Grey Eagle.”
“We know that, and we’re sorry we didn’t take you!” cried Ned.
“I went to see Mr. Bosworth about following you,” continued young Shaw. “He was opposed to that plan, but you know I usually get my own way somehow. I put together a kit and started out. I had little difficulty in securing passage on a ship loaded with miscellaneous cargo for England. The vessel was a British tramp—a ‘bucko’ ship.
“We got close to Land’s End after a rather uneventful voyage across the Atlantic. I was dreaming of getting ashore in a short time and then hiking across the channel into France to hunt you up.
“One fine morning we were all startled to hear a hail from the lookout informing the deck that a submarine was approaching. We hove to at the command of the submarine people. They commanded our captain to get his crew into the boats as quickly as possible, for in five minutes they intended torpedoing the ship. They wouldn’t take ‘No’ for an answer.”
“That was going some, I must say!” put in Jimmie.
“You needn’t be told, of course,” went on Frank, “that we lost little time making preparations. One of the sailors disputed my right to take my kit into the small boat. I objected and he cracked me on the jaw. When I recovered I was alone on the vessel. The boats were at some little distance away, with the crew pulling like racers.
“For a moment I was quite desperate, not knowing how to escape. I thought of trying to signal the submarine, but could see the vessel just launching a torpedo. Seemingly the whole after end of the ship was shattered by the explosion. As soon as I could I tried to signal the enemy, but they were just turning about to leave the spot.
“Maybe I didn’t hustle about some. The ship was already filling rapidly. The stern was settling fast. All the boats were gone. I could see nothing to serve as a float. Desperately I seized a capstan bar and knocked the wedges and battens off a hatch cover. Then I got a small piece of line. I passed it through a ring bolt and made fast. I figured that when the ship went down the cover would float free for a raft on which I could keep up. Before I was fully ready the compressed air blew the cover off with a ‘boom’. It landed close to the rail.
“Just as the hull took a last slant I jumped overboard. After swimming quite a distance away I saw the ship go down. I turned back. There was my hatch cover floating just as I expected.”
Here Frank paused to extend his hand for another cup of coffee.
“You’re the wise little Scout!” declared Jimmie, admiringly.
“Sure!” agreed Frank. “Then,” he continued, “I floated around for the rest of the day on that hatch cover. Toward evening I saw a smoke off to the southwest. It was just out of the glare of the sun. When it got nearer I knew it was a steamer bound for England or some nearby place. It was the Anne of Melbourne. So here I am!”
“But what about this ‘U-13’?” inquired Harry, eagerly.
“Oh, yes, I nearly forgot,” said Frank. “The submarine that torpedoed the ship was marked ‘U-13’ on the side!”
“They’ve been doing a lot of that, according to the newspapers!” stated Ned. “But why do you warn us to look out for her?” he asked.
“When I told the captain of the Anne of my experience,” went on Frank, “he decided to head north, intending to go to the westward of Ireland, around between Scotland and the Shetland Island into the North Sea, in the hopes of dodging the submarine, which seemed to be working the waters of the English Channel. Yesterday morning we were hailed by a submarine. I could see that it was the same old ‘U-13’!”
“How did it get way up here?” questioned Ned, incredulously.
“Search me!” replied Frank. “They ordered us to heave to, but that captain is a daredevil. He cracked on all steam full speed ahead, declaring that if they took him they’d have to catch him.
“The submarine launched a torpedo at us, but it only smashed our rudder. We had good headway on. That, of course, put us in a mighty bad fix, as the submarine could then have easily sent a torpedo into us, but for some unknown reason they turned and left us.
“The captain was nearly crazy when he discovered what damage had been done. The vessel had been bad enough before, but it became ten times worse. I got a crack or two with a rope’s end that sting yet!”
“How could they navigate?” asked Jimmie.
“They couldn’t!” answered Frank. “We just lay in the trough of the seas and let the old tub roll. They even put preventer stays on the masts and on the boilers to keep them from rolling out of the crazy old wagon. You never saw such a place as that ship was!”
“And then when the captain got her under the lee of this land and you saw this schooner you just concluded that you’d jump the ship?”
“Exactly!” agreed Frank. “I had lost my kit when the sailing vessel went down, so I left nothing on the steamer.”
“I’m awful glad you got here safely,” stated Ned, grasping Frank’s hand in a hearty clasp that spoke eloquently of the friendship between the two boys. “But you’re too late to help capture the Panama Canal plan thief. He’s out of his misery quite a while ago!”
“But he’s just in time to get mixed up in this ‘U-13’ business!” urged Jimmie. “He’s right in the midst of the excitement!”
“But since you don’t want any more Boy Scouts along we’ll pitch Frank overboard again!” declared Harry, with mock gravity.
“Aw, you go on!” scorned Jimmie. “I didn’t know it was Frank!”
Laughing at Jimmie’s confusion the boys related to their chum the salient points of their experience up to the time of their strange meeting. Frank was greatly puzzled over the circumstances of the strange package, for the presence of which in their kits the boys could not account.
For some time the lads remained in the cabin, drying the uniforms of the swimmers and exchanging experiences. It was the opinion of all that they would be adopting a wise course to return at once to New York.
Captain von Kluck was greatly interested in his strange passengers. He listened eagerly to Frank’s account of the doings of the strange submarine. At the conclusion of the recital he paced the deck nervously.
Not until midafternoon did the wind decrease sufficiently to permit the Lena Knobloch to venture forth from her position of shelter.
Through the binoculars the boys made long examinations of the steamer lying to windward of their position. They determined that preparations were being made to send a boat’s crew to some port for assistance in towing the crippled vessel to a harbor.
At one bell, or half past four o’clock, Captain von Kluck came from his cabin. He stepped to the rail, sniffing at the wind. Presently he turned to join the mate in his walk across the deck.
For some minutes the two conversed in low tones. Directly the mate stepped forward, bawling out orders to his men.
At once all was commotion on the Knobloch’s decks. Men tumbled eagerly about, hauling a line here, letting go another there, until they had set the double reefed mainsail, foresail and a mere rag of jib.
When this had been accomplished all hands seized capstan bars. To the tune of a Dutch sailors’ “chanty” the links of the cable slowly clanked inboard. With a lurch the Lena Knobloch swung as the anchor broke ground. Like a storm driven bird she was off in the wings of a northwester, lying far over even under the greatly reduced sail.
“Where to now, Captain?” asked Ned as von Kluck stepped along the deck with head bent forward. By his manner of nervous intentness Ned guessed that the captain was carrying a load on his mind.
Von Kluck’s only response was a growl as he passed the boys.
“Captain’s grouchy!” declared Jimmie. “Leave him alone, Ned!”
“Sure, don’t bother him!” added Frank. “He’s worried enough!”
“Just the same, I don’t like his looks!” stated Ned with some degree of apprehension. “He seems to have soured after hearing about the ‘U-13.’ Didn’t you fellows notice how he listened to Frank’s story?”
“Sure we did,” Jimmie replied, “but then, it’s only natural that he should be worried over the possibility of losing his vessel!”
“Well, his getting under way in this weather shows that he intends to be square and land us in an English port as he agreed!”
“I guess von Kluck is a pretty good sort of a chap, after all!” ventured Harry. “He has tried to treat us as right as he could!”
“I think you’re right. We can’t blame him for feeling somewhat worried under the circumstances. We’d be grouchy, too!”
Under a port helm the Lena Knobloch swung to starboard leaping forward into the waves as if glad to again be battling with the sea.
Ned and his companions felt that they could be of no service in handling the schooner. They, therefore, retired to the shelter of the cabin, where they were protected from the stinging blasts of sleet and snow that came screaming out of the northwest.
Scarcely had the schooner won clear of the jagged ledges when the full force of the tumbling waves was felt. It seemed to the boys that the stern of the little vessel was hurled to an unbelievable height only to drop so far they feared nothing could save them.
But Captain von Kluck and his mate were expert navigators. They had sailed the ocean since large enough to handle a line. They knew the Lena Knobloch’s ability to withstand the buffeting of the elements.
As night drew on the boys expected to witness a cessation of the storm. Their prediction was fulfilled. Gradually the gale blew itself out, leaving but a strong sailing breeze, although the water still continued rough. Captain von Kluck took advantage of this change to shake out the reefs in his canvas and to spread more sail.
Just as the moon showed in the east between masses of cloud the lookout reported a ship in sight off the port bow. In a short time the two vessels had approached within about two miles of each other.
“They’re apparently heaving to!” cried Ned who had been using the binoculars. “It looks as if they’re getting the boats over!”
From the waist of the other vessel the boys saw a great cloud of dark smoke appear. The small boats had scarcely gone a ship’s length away from the scene. The crew were rowing with the greatest haste.
“I see the conning tower of a submarine!” cried Ned.
CHAPTER IX
A STRANGE VISIT
Clearly visible to the members of the crew on the Lena Knobloch the great cloud of smoke slowly spread over the vessel.
Directly a sullen “Boom” reached their ears. As the smoke spread away the lads could see a great rent in the side through which water was rushing. Already the ship was listing heavily.
Two small boats were being pulled away from the vicinity by the crew of the doomed vessel. The small craft were handled in a seamanlike manner. They made good progress in spite of the still heavy sea.
“By golly!” ejaculated Von Kluck, drawing a long breath. “Maybe vhe get id next, vhat? Dere ain’d no vay of tellin’!”
“Why do you think that, Captain?” questioned Ned.
“Dot verdom ‘U-13’!” grunted Von Kluck. “Vhe’ll pe lucky,”—here his excitement grew so intense that he delivered himself of several great sailor’s oaths—“if vhe make a port in England alretty!”
“Keep a sharp lookout, boys,” said Ned. “Maybe we can get a sight of the ‘U-13’ if it’s still in this neighborhood.”
Scarcely had the boy uttered the words before the lookout hailed the deck. His voice vibrated with excitement and fear.
“Vot is, aloft, dere?” roared Von Kluck.
Excitedly jabbering in his intense emotion the lookout frantically pointed in the direction of the sinking ship. Without waiting for orders he came sliding down the halliards. As he landed on deck he turned an ashen face toward the captain. Again he pointed seaward.
“The ‘U-13’!” he gasped in an agony of terror.
A glance in the direction indicated showed the boys an object like a spar buoy apparently standing upright in the water. The next moment a swell rolled over something beneath the upright object.
The next wave disclosed a long, rounded steel hull. In the center the conning tower showed plainly. A moment later the outlines of the dreaded submarine were distinguishable as the craft was propelled to the surface. Each wave broke clear over the arched back of this terror of the seas leaving the black hull gleaming in the faint light. Only the upper portion of the conning tower escaped a ducking.
Presently the hatch was opened. A man in uniform stepped out onto the narrow confines of the small deck. His attention was directed toward the schooner. After what seemed to the boys to be an almost endless examination of their vessel the man turned to address a remark to some one evidently close to the hatch but out of their vision.
“What is he saying?” Ned asked von Kluck.
“He iss telling dot odder feller dot vhe iss das Lena Knobloch!”
“What next, I wonder?” speculated Jimmie aloud.
“Next?” almost screamed von Kluck. “Next, vhe iss ordered to get by our boats into und row far enough avhay so dey couldt blow up us!”
In his intense agitation the captain began pacing up and down the deck. The submarine drew close alongside the schooner easily keeping pace with the sailing vessel at the rate they were progressing.
“Von Kluck is certainly worked up about it,” remarked Harry as he noted the captain’s distracted manner. “He’s almost bughouse!”
“Well, so would you be, too, if all you had were about to be sent to the bottom of the ocean!” declared Ned. “It’s tough luck!”
“Maybe we’d better be getting our kits in shape,” suggested Jack moving toward the cabin. “I don’t want to leave everything!”
“I had to leave everything,” put in Frank, “when they sunk the ship I was on. I felt lucky to get away with my life!”
“Let’s make a try for it, anyway,” continued Jack.
“Wait a minute!” cried Ned, “let’s see what they’re going to do. The man is going below again! Why don’t he hail us?”
Strangely enough the officer was descending the hatchway without speaking a word to those on board the schooner.
This procedure puzzled von Kluck, but did not serve to reduce in any degree the excitement under which he was laboring.
“Lay aft a couble of handts und make reaty der boats!” he shouted. “Come on, hurry oop! Lifely, now, men!”
In obedience to this command two members of the crew sprang towards the stern of the schooner to make preparations for launching the boat lashed at the stern. Two others frantically loosened the lashings of the upturned boat lying amidships.
A clanking sound indicating that the hatchway of the “U-13” had been closed attracted the attention of the boys in that direction.
“What are they going to do now?” questioned Jimmie eagerly.
“I fancy they are going to pull away a little so as to launch a torpedo at us,” stated Ned. “It don’t look as if they’re going to be kind enough to let us get off the vessel before they blow it up!”
“Then it isn’t the same crew I met!” declared Frank firmly. “They treated the men fine! While I must admit that I don’t admire their way of sinking merchant ships, I will have to say that they gave the people a chance to get out of danger!”
“Well, is it the same submarine you saw?” asked Ned.
“It looks exactly like it. Besides,” the boy continued, “I see the figures ‘U-13’ painted on the side of this one, too. I believe it is the very same vessel. Maybe they won’t sink us!”
With hatch closed the submarine was preparing to execute some maneuver. Gathering speed the craft plunged ahead quickly leaving the schooner alone. Scarcely had the bow of the sailing vessel been passed ere the submarine was so far beneath the water as to show only the periscope. In a moment there was but a swirl to indicate where that had been. Presently it, too, disappeared. The “U-13” was gone.
For some time the boys stood at the rail eagerly scanning the water to discover evidence of the submarine’s return. Their search was fruitless. Nothing was found to indicate the presence of their late visitor. The waves rose and fell without hint of its location.
“Oh, Captain von Kluck!” Ned called. “They have gone!”
“Vhat?” asked the captain in a tone expressing doubt.
“Yes,” continued the boy. “They have slipped back into the ocean again and have left us. Possibly they think we’re too small for them to waste a torpedo on. Torpedoes cost a lot of money, you know!”
“Vhell, dot’s lucky!” answered the captain, much relieved.
“Sure is!” assented Jimmie, throwing out his chest. “You see, Captain, we’re mascots for you. We’ve brought you good luck!”
Joining in the laugh that greeted this remark the captain ordered the men who had been at work upon the boats to cease their operations. A hand was again posted aloft to act as lookout.
After a short consultation between von Kluck and the mate it was decided to proceed on the course traveled by the steamer from which Frank Shaw had recently escaped. They intended to pass between the Shetland islands and the coast of Scotland in an attempt to make a port on the west side of England, believing that there would be less danger in this procedure. Accordingly all sail possible was made.
As if understanding the necessity for haste the vessel leaned far over under the press of canvas and sprang forward with increased speed.
“We ought to make the west coast of England in a short time, Captain, at this rate,” said Ned as he noted with satisfaction the rate at which the Lena Knobloch was traveling through the water.
“I don’d know!” declared von Kluck. “Dere’s nasty vedder oop dere!” he added, pointing to the western sky. “I don’d like id!”
“It can’t very well blow hard enough to stop us, can it?”
“Don’d you tink it can’t blow hard in dese vatters! Ask me—I know!” replied the captain sagely wagging his head.
With eager looks the boys watched the gathering clouds to westward. The captain’s prediction seemed about to be verified.
An uncommonly strong puff of wind struck the schooner heeling her far over to starboard. The blast bore a chill as of ice.
“Oh, boys,” cried Jimmie turning his head away from the biting blast, “look up to windward and see how smooth the ocean is getting!”
“That’s wind coming!” shouted Ned.
An order was roared out by von Kluck. Men sprang to the lines. The sails were stowed with a speed that seemed scarcely credible. Heeling round on a port helm the Lena Knobloch turned from the approaching blast.
Leaving only the shortened jib von Kluck and the mate stood on the after deck peering anxiously at the violent disturbance overtaking the little vessel. Now and again the mate glanced apprehensively at the schooner’s masts or along the decks.
With a shriek the storm struck. For a moment the very weight of wind seemed to settle the schooner farther into the water. The next instant they were tearing along with the speed of a race horse.
Flattened by the pressure of the wind the waves no longer gave her motion. By reason of her being headed directly away from the blast the schooner rode on an even keel. Every line, every shroud hummed like the strings of a gigantic harp. The noise was terrific.
A glance at the compass in the binnacle showed Ned that they were headed nearly northeast. They were fast leaving England astern.
Conversation was almost impossible in the howling gale that tore and fretted at the vessel. Yet Ned managed to shout to the captain:
“How much sea room have we got in this direction?”
A shrug of the shoulders indicated the captain’s doubt. He accompanied this movement with a wagging of the head.
“Vhe’ll get into der lee of somedings bretty soon,” he replied.
“I surely hope so!” declared Ned, cupping his hands to carry his voice to the other’s ear. “I’d hate to hit anything at this rate!”
Nodding an acknowledgment to this assertion the captain by signs indicated to the mate that he desired a hand sent aloft as lookout.
In a short time it seemed to the boys that the terrific force of the gale had somewhat spent itself. Waves began to toss the vessel at an alarming rate. Each mountain of water appeared about to board the schooner at the stern, threatening to crush the craft by its weight.
Anxious for the safety of the vessel and for their own welfare the lads, nevertheless, understood that they could do little good on deck. They, therefore, made their way into the cabin, where they sat on lockers.
Here the noises of the tempest were somewhat stilled, but the creaking and groaning of the timbers was far more noticeable. It seemed to the lads that the vessel was being torn asunder by every billow.