FIGHTING A MUTINY WITH THREATS
Hal Hastings came springing out of the conning tower with a megaphone.
Jack, with a final swing of the wheel, brought the "Pollard" in on a
course parallel with the steam yacht, and not more than two hundred feet
away from the other vessel's port rail.
At the same moment Benson rang the signal bell for reduced speed, so
that the sterns of the two craft were kept almost on a line with each
other.
"Ahoy, yacht!" bellowed the commander, through the megaphone. "Any
trouble aboard?"
"Mutiny!" hoarsely shouted the white-haired man, turning his head only
enough to send the word.
"It looks like it," agreed Commander Ennerling. "We are United States
Naval officers, aboard a torpedo boat. The mutiny must stop. Shut off
your speed, and send a boat over here. My order is addressed to the
mutinous crew."
Two of the mutineers were hiding behind a mast, three more behind the
forward end of the after deck house. Just how many more there were,
could not be clearly made out by those on board the "Pollard," for some
had undoubtedly crouched below the deck bulwarks.
But one man among the mutineers possessed the rough courage to advance
to the rail, shouting in a husky voice:
"You go on your way, and mind your own business, Mr. Navy!"
"Stop that mutiny and submit to your officers," insisted Commander
Ennerling, sternly. "Do you want us to come aboard and wipe you out to
the last man?"
"You can't board us, from a craft of that kind," jeered the fellow
at the yacht's rail.
"You'll find we can, if we have to."
"Come along, then!"
"Do you realize, my man, that we are United States Naval officers?"
"Not when I can't see your uniform," laughed the mutineer, roughly.
"I'm not going to argue with you any more. I've given you my orders.
Do you intend to submit, or will you fight?"
"We'll fight!" roared the mutineer. A hoarse cheer went up from his
comrades.
"They don't estimate our fighting power very highly," muttered Ennerling,
in a low tone. "If they knew the whole truth they'd be still less
afraid of us."
From the mutineer at the rail came another hoarse hail:
"Shove off and get away, or we'll rush the crowd aft and wind up the
women! You start a fight if you think you can. If you know you can't,
then get away. We're not afraid until we're killed."
Now, eight mutineers, in all, lined across the deck, each man showing a
revolver.
"Humph! We've got to fight--and can't!" muttered Commander Ennerling,
in great disgust.
"We can save those women," muttered Jack Benson, "if they've the nerve
to help themselves be saved."
"How?"
"Hal Hastings and I can swim over, and can hold the women up if they
have the nerve to leap overboard."
"Those brutes might fire on you, and the women, but it's worth trying,"
decided the Naval officer, instantly. "Over with you, then!"
Captain Jack waited only long enough to shed coat and cap, then sprang
to the rail. Hal was with him, instantly.
"Sir," bellowed Commander Ennerling, "Have your women folks jump
overboard. We'll pick them up in the water. Be quick about it!"
There were a few hurried words in the little group of four aft on the
steam yacht. Then, with the "Pollard" running in closer, so that a
bare fifty feet separated the two craft--Mr. Farnum at the submarine's
wheel--Jack Benson plunged overboard, followed by Hal. The girl aboard
the yacht leaped at once, the older woman following quickly.
"Get us, too, if you can," shouted the white haired man at the yacht's
stern. "We can swim a little."
Both craft were still going ahead at about fourteen knots, but, as the
two men jumped Lieutenant Commander Briscoe and Lieutenant McCrea
plunged overboard to get them.
Now Jacob Farnum rang for the reversing of the engine, and the submarine,
first pausing, began to glide backward, then stopped altogether.
From the steam yacht went up another hoarse cheer, the mutineers dancing
like demons, discharging their revolvers into the air. All this while
the yacht steamed steadily away from the scene.
The girl was sinking for the second time as Jack Benson, with a forward
swoop, shot one arm under her.
"You won't go down now," he called, cheerily. "Keep cool and just
do what I ask you."
The older woman, buoyed up by a greater spread of skirts, had not sunk
below the surface at all by the time that Hal Hastings reached her.
"All just as it ought to be," hailed Hal, blithely. "Don't be at all
afraid, madam. Porpoise is my middle name, and you can't sink while
I have you."
The work of the two Naval officers who had plunged overboard was easier.
Both of the men who had leaped from the yacht's stern rail were able to
swim. Briscoe and McCrea merely reached them and swam alongside.
David Pollard had ropes over the side of the submarine in a jiffy. It
was easy work for seafaring men to climb these ropes over the sloping,
easy side. It was scarcely more difficult to get the women up in
safety.
"Let the ladies go below to the port stateroom," called Mr. Farnum.
"They can disrobe, rub down and get in between blankets in the berths.
Their men folks can take care of 'em."
"I'm the steward, sir, of the 'Selma,' the yacht that's ahead," explained
the man in white duck. "I'll help them below at once, sir."
"We can have hot coffee in seven minutes," Mr. Farnum continued.
"Captain Benson, if you'll take the wheel again, I'll go below and get
to work in the galley."
The white-haired man, in the meantime, was hurriedly making himself
known to Commander Ennerling as Egbert Lawton, owner of the "_Selna_,"
a hundred-and-forty-foot schooner rigged steam yacht. The ladies were
his wife and his sixteen-year-old daughter, Miss Ethel Johnson was the
steward's name.
"Get after the yacht again, Captain Benson," requested Commander
Ennerling. "We have the owner and the ladies safe, but we've got to
take that crew to land as mutineers."
"They'll fight to the last shot," declared Mr. Lawton, shaking his head.
"Did you and your steward bring your revolvers with you?" asked
Ennerling.
"No; we tossed them into the sea as we dived," laughed Mr. Lawton.
"Bringing weapons to a Naval craft is like carrying coals to Newcastle."
"Unfortunately," rejoined the commander, plaintively, "this isn't yet
a Naval vessel, and the most dangerous weapon aboard is the breadknife
in the galley. But how did the mutiny start, Mr. Lawton? And how did
you come to have such a rascally crew aboard?"
"Two or three bad men got into the crew, started fights, and some of the
old crew quit. Then these bad men passed the word to other tough
characters to apply to my captain. In a short time the crew was all of
one piece of cloth, including the fellows in the engine room."
"How many mutineers are there aboard?"
"Thirteen, in all. Even the cook joined them."
"But your officers?"
"Captain Peters and Mate Sidney. It was the mate's watch when the
trouble started. You see, as most of my cruises have been short, I
carried but one mate. So, on a long run, the captain had to stand watch
in turn. Captain Peters was below. Mate Sidney went forward, to the
forecastle, for something. He must have been felled and ironed. One
of the crew roused the captain, saying the mate needed him forward.
Then Captain Peters went forward, was seized and ironed. Then, howling
like fiends, in order to frighten us the more, the mutineers rushed aft."
"Yet you stood them off?"
"Yes; Steward Johnson and I both happened to be on deck, and were both
armed. The rascals didn't want any of their side killed, so they tried
to parley when they saw our weapons."
"What started the mutiny?"
"Mrs Lawton usually carries her jewels, when on board. They are worth
two hundred thousand dollars--a rich prize to desperate thieves."
"What folly to tempt men so on the broad ocean!" muttered Commander
Ennerling, under his breath.
"The jewels were kept in a safe in the cabin," continued Mr. Lawton.
"And there are the scoundrels just smashing in the cabin door," broke in
Jack Benson.
"There they go, piling below."
"They're welcome," jeered Egbert Lawton. "As it happened, my wife had
some sort of presentiment, and the jewels are in two canvas pouches
securely fastened under her clothing. She leaped overboard with them."
As the "Pollard" now ran much closer, those aboard the submarine could
hear the yells of rage that came from the yacht's cabin.
"The safe was unlocked, and the rascals have found out how badly they've
been sold," laughed Mr. Lawton. "But why are you going so close to the
yacht? In their rage, they'll fight like fiends, and you are unarmed."
"We shall see what we shall see," dryly commented the commander,
murmuring a few words in Hal Hastings's ear.
Hal promptly dropped down below.
"Selma ahoy!" hailed Ennerling, when the submarine was once more up with
the yacht.
"Get quiet and go to sleep!" shouted back the leader of the mutineers,
derisively.
"Under the law you mutineers are pirates," shouted back the commander,
firmly. "If you don't surrender we shall be compelled to sink you."
"Sheer off and forget it!" jeered the mutineer.
"Look here, my man," bellowed Commander Ennerling, "we'll have no further
nonsense from you. Surrender, without further parley, or you'll find our
nose pointing at your side hull--and then there'll be some fireworks.
You can't be insolent with the United States Navy."
Then, leaning over the manhole, Commander Ennerling shouted down:
"Watch below!"
"Aye, aye, sir!" rose Hal's voice, clear and strong.
"Pass the word to load the torpedo tube."
"Aye, aye, sir!"
Next, hailing the "Selma," Ennerling called:
"Last hail before trouble! Do you surrender?"
"No, you sea-lawyer!"
Just a word to Jack from the Naval officer, and the "Pollard" shot
ahead of the other craft, then came up and around, going after the
yacht on the quarter, nose on.
"I hope this line of business works," remarked Ennerling, with a dry
smile.
"Toot! toot! too-oo-oot!" sounded the yacht's steam whistle, shrilly.
At the same time her engines reversed. Another of the mutineers rushed
to the rail, waving a white towel.
"In heaven's name, don't do it!" he bellowed, hoarsely.
"You surrender, then?" demanded Ennerling, stiffly, though his heart
must have bounded with joy. "Wise men! We're not going to put a prize
crew aboard. You'll have to take the yacht in. Head about for the
coast, taking the course as we signal it. Don't try any tricks, or
any slowing down of speed. The least sign of treachery, and we'll sink
you without further warning--"
"--if we can do such a trick with compressed air alone," added
Commander Ennerling in a tone heard only by those near him on the
platform deck. "Captain Benson, what is the nearest place on this
coast with a police force capable of taking charge of such a crowd."
"Clyde City is about a thirty-two mile run from here, sir," Jack
answered. "There's a harbor police boat there."
"Then make for Clyde City, please. I'll attend to signaling the yacht."
As the two vessels proceeded on their way the ladies below were made
as comfortable as possible. Mr. Lawton and his steward were provided
with dry clothing, and coffee was served. It was an hour before either
Jack or Hal found time to change their clothing in the motor room.