Armstrong's Part
Restraining his curiosity, the mate of the _Myra_ poured out some water
into a tin bowl, and handed Denbigh a small piece of yellow soap.
"There'll be just time to scrub your figureheads," he remarked.
"You'll have to turn in pretty sharp, or you'll be bowled out. They're
getting a little bit excited on deck."
Realizing that it would be as well to act on Armstrong's advice, the
subs, by dint of hard scrubbing and plenty of soap, succeeded in
removing the burnt cork from their faces, necks, and hands. This done
they donned their pyjamas and scrambled into their bunks, while the
mate obligingly unpacked their bundles and laid out the garments with
methodical precision.
Armstrong was not far wrong in his surmise. The excitement on deck
bordered on a state of panic. Every man of the prize crew turned out.
Unter-leutnant Klick, having heard a muddled version of what had taken
place, ordered the man who had been jumped upon to state what he knew.
The seaman, still shaken and frightened, could only affirm that he was
pacing the deck as conscientiously as a sentry should do, when the
black figure leapt upon him from behind and felled him.
"From behind, say you?" repeated Unter-leutnant Klick. "How, then,
could you see that he was black?"
"I must have spun round, sir, as I fell," replied the fellow. "I
distinctly remember seeing that he was black and without clothing. He
may be a native."
"Where did he go after taking you unawares?" asked the prize-master of
the _Myra_.
"Over the side, sir, I think. I believe I heard the splash."
Kaspar Klick, however, had his suspicions. Not for one moment did he
imagine that anyone would be so utterly reckless as to attempt to swim
ashore and back again. The river, teeming with hippopotami and
crocodiles, offered too formidable an obstacle. On the other hand, the
mysterious assailant of the sentry might be one of several of the
English prisoners, intent upon recapturing the ship. Had the faithful
sentry been felled without uttering a sound, the plot may have
succeeded; but when the seaman made enough bellowing to awaken the
Seven Sleepers, the daring Englishmen probably thought better of it,
and had retired speedily and discreetly.
Ordering half a dozen armed men to accompany him, Unter-leutnant Klick
went for'ard. Over the hatchway leading to the forehold, where the
_Myra's_ deck hands were under lock and key, he found a sentry on duty.
The man was most emphatic that no one had attempted to come on deck.
The state of the padlock proved that.
Still dubious, the unter-leutnant descended the main hold. Making his
way over a pack of miscellaneous cargo, he came to the for'ard
bulkhead. A careful examination showed that no effort had been made to
cut through the partition separating the two holds. He could,
therefore, feel reassured that the original crew of the _Myra_ had not
attempted to put into execution a plot to recover the ship.
"Perhaps it is those harebrained officers we took from the Japanese
liner," soliloquized Klick. "I'll go the rounds now I am about it, and
see if those fellows have been up to any tricks."
Had the unter-leutnant gone aft as soon as he commenced his
investigations, he might have noticed the tell-tale prints of wet feet,
left by Denbigh and his chum as they scurried to the cabin. By this
time the marks had almost vanished. The slight traces of dampness that
remained were hardly noticeable in the gloom, for it was still dark,
and 'tween decks the lantern gave but a feeble glimmer.
Klick inserted his key into the lock and threw open the door. The
cabin was in darkness, until one of his men flashed a lantern into it.
The unter-leutnant sniffed suspiciously.
"Anyone awake?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Armstrong.
"You haf been a lamp burning," said Kaspar Klick accusingly. "It is
again der regulations."
Armstrong's reply told the listening subs that he was "up to snuff".
The prize-master had sniffed the odour of burnt cork; but since he had
suggested that it was the smell of an extinguished oil-lamp, the mate
did not contradict.
"Yes," he replied. "Mr. O'Hara hasn't been very well. I had to give
him some quinine, and a fellow must have a light to see that he is
giving the right dose."
"Ach! Is dat so?" asked the unter-leutnant. "Now, tell me dis. Herr
O'Hara, did he go on deck since last hour ago?"
"No," replied Armstrong with perfect truthfulness. "I am certain he
didn't. I'm a very light sleeper, and if he had moved I should have
heard. Besides, how could he get out without a key?" asked the mate
with well-feigned innocence.
"I tell you dis----" began Klick; but before he could carry out his
intention a loud shout of "Wer da?" came from the deck, followed by an
unintelligible hail, coming from some distance down the river.
Kaspar Klick waited no longer. Hurriedly he left the cabin, slamming
and locking the door, and rushed on deck. Aft, a sentry at the ready
was repeating his challenge. The first blush of the short tropical
dawn revealed the presence of a four-oared galley speeding up with the
tide.
"We're from the _Pelikan_, sir," announced the petty officer in charge,
as the boat ran alongside. Without attempting to board the man
delivered his message.
In spite of the closed dead-light Denbigh and his companions could hear
all the fellow was saying.
"Herr Kapitan von Riesser sends his compliments," continued the
coxswain. "He is anxious to know whether any of the English prisoners
have escaped."
"No, certainly not," replied Kaspar Klick with righteous indignation in
his voice, "our precautions are too elaborate to give the dogs a chance
of that. But why has Kapitan von Riesser sent you with that question?"
"We've been in action, sir," declared the man.
"We heard the firing," remarked Klick. "And the result?"
"One English cruiser sunk, another driven on to the rocks," announced
the coxswain, allowing his imagination to kick over the traces. "There
were others. We would have captured or destroyed those, only----"
"Only what?" asked the unter-leutnant sharply.
"Someone cut our field telegraph. 'B' battery could not get in touch
with the observation officer and so the rest of the enemy escaped."
"How do you know that the wire has been cut?" asked the unter-leutnant.
"It might have carried away."
"A whole length of it has been removed, sir," reported the coxswain.
"Then it was the natives. They'll steal anything in the metal line.
Kapitan von Riesser ought to have known that," replied Klick with
asperity. "We look after our prisoners here. None of them has the
faintest chance of getting out of the ship. Anything more to report?"
"Only that Major von Eckenstein is missing. He left the observation
station to go to the _Pelikan's_ landing stage and never arrived.
Search parties were out when I left."
Unter-leutnant Kaspar Klick made no audible comment. Inwardly he
rejoiced, after the manner of mean-minded men when they hear of
misfortune overtaking those they dislike; for there was no love lost
between the two representatives of the Kaiser's forces.
"Very well; carry on back," he ordered. "You can reassure Kapitan von
Riesser on the points he mentioned."
"There's something else, sir," reported the petty officer, producing a
linen envelope from under a cushion in the stern-sheets. "I had to
deliver this to you personally."
The German officer took the envelope and went below to read its
contents. It was to the effect that the _Pelikan_ had been lightened
still more and that at high water she would attempt the bar. The
_Myra_ was to return down stream and stand by to render assistance if
necessary.
Returning on deck the prize-master gave back to the coxswain the order,
to which was added a notation that it would be complied with, and
dismissed the boat. Then, grumbling at being turned out so early in
the morning, Kaspar Klick retired to his cabin.
"Is that right about the sinking of one of our cruisers?" asked
Armstrong, when Denbigh had translated the gist of the conversation,
for in spite of the port-hole being closed every word had been audible.
"Hardly," replied Denbigh. "The Germans have a funny habit of
magnifying the size and class of any and every vessel they sink.
Unfortunately they sent one of our destroyers to the bottom. By Jove!
doesn't this burnt cork take a lot of shifting?"
The two subs were busily engaged in scrubbing off their sooty coats, to
make the rest of their bodies harmonize with their faces. Fresh water
being strictly limited and yellow soap microscopic in size their task
was not an easy one.
"Well, if they attempt to bring the _Pelikan_ up the river," commented
the mate of the _Myra_, "I hope they'll pile her up on the bar. If
they succeed we'll have to try our hand. Don't I wish they'd let me
have charge of the wheel for five minutes. Now what do you think of
these? I call them champion."
He held out the two dummy forelocks, which he had completed in the
absence of Denbigh and his chum. They had been coated with aluminium
paint, while to give them a worn appearance he had rubbed charcoal over
the paint. Only by actual handling, when the difference in weight
between the real and the spurious article could be detected, could the
deception be discovered.
"Capital!" exclaimed O'Hara, suppressing a yawn. "Oh, dash it all!
This is the result of being out of bed when one ought to be enjoying
one's beauty sleep. I'm turning in again."
"Also this child," added Denbigh; but before the chums could throw
themselves upon their bunks a bugle sounded. It was the signal that
another working day had begun, and that the prisoners had to turn out
and assist their captors.
"Morning," was Captain Pennington's greeting as Denbigh and O'Hara came
on deck. Then, making sure that no German was within earshot, he
asked, "And what little game were _you_ up to last night?"
"What do you mean?" asked Denbigh in surprise.
"Like you I have a liking for fresh air," replied the skipper of the
captured tramp. "The Huns screwed down the dead-light to the
port-hole, but forgot to enquire if I had a spanner. They saved
themselves an unnecessary question, by the by, for I would not have
owned up to being in possession of a very serviceable one. So during
the night I opened the port-hole to get a breather. I was rather
surprised to find a rope-ladder dropped over the side, and still more
so to see two disreputable niggers, whom I recognized as you two, swarm
down and take a cold bath. Also I had the pleasure of seeing the same
dusky pair return, and had the intense satisfaction of hearing a German
bellow like a whipped child."
"Then we weren't so smart as we imagined," observed O'Hara. "Fortunate
it was for us that you weren't a Hun."
Before the subs could enlighten Captain Pennington as to the nature of
the mystery the unter-leutnant came up.
"You vill haf to vork, kapitan," he said without further preliminaries.
"If you no keep your crew up to concert pitch trouble you vill haf.
You men vill vork vatch and vatch, see?"
Captain Pennington merely nodded in reply. He realized that passivity
was desirable; on the other hand, having heard of Armstrong's little
plan, it would not do to show unwonted eagerness to assist in working
the ship.
"Turn up der men," ordered Klick.
"One minute," interposed Captain Pennington. "We are not at sea now.
My men have insufficient head-gear. It's risking sunstroke."
The unter-leutnant considered the affair for a few minutes. Personally
he didn't care a rope's-end whether the strafed Englishmen had
sunstroke or not, until it occurred to him that a number of invalids
would hamper operations. Finally he gave orders for a number of solar
topees or sun-helmets to be issued to the British crew.
It was eight o'clock in the morning when the _Myra_ weighed. Already
the sun was unpleasantly hot. There was no wind. Under the shade of
the mangroves the mists still held, while the black mud left uncovered
by the falling tide gave out a most noxious vapour.
To Denbigh's satisfaction Armstrong had been sent for'ard to
superintend the weighing and catting on the anchor. The stern anchor
had already been hove short.
Under the action of the steam winch the cable came home. Manoeuvred by
means of the twin screws the _Myra_ swung round in mid-stream, and as
the "hook" broke out from the muddy bottom the tramp forged slowly
ahead.
Half a dozen British seamen were on the fo'c'sle together with three
Germans. The latter took good care to leave most of the work to the
prisoners, so that Armstrong had a clear opportunity to withdraw the
real forelocks from the anchors and replace them with the wooden ones.
"That's all serene," he whispered to Denbigh as he came aft. "Now
there'll be trouble for the Deutschers."