BILL STARTS IN
The launch, a highpowered craft, soon caught up with the submarine and
its string of loaded lifeboats. Darkness had fallen before the little
flotilla reached the mothership, but the plunder was quickly taken
aboard, and the lifeboats were sunk. Within an hour of their arrival,
the _Amtonia_ with her submarine pilot-fish were heading into the
northeast again.
The two lads were given a large, comfortable cabin together, where they
found the baggage from their amphibian had been stowed. They had just
taken a shower in the luxuriously appointed bathroom off their cabin,
when there came a knock at the door.
“The Captain’s compliments, sir,” said the steward when Bill opened to
him, “and will you gentlemen dine with him and his officers at eight
thirty in the Palm Garden? He asks me to inform you, sir, that you will
find uniforms in your closet. He begs that you will not wear civilian
clothes while aboard.”
“Thank Baron von Hiemskirk on behalf of Chief Osceola and myself. We
shall be glad to join the officers’ mess at half past eight. We shall
also put on the uniforms he has provided, although I must say that
nothing looks worse than a uniform one hasn’t been fitted for!”
“Beg pardon, sir, but the tailor has already altered the uniforms. He
took measurements from the suits in your bags. He and his men are
working on more of them tonight. He tells me that they will all be
finished soon.”
“Thank you,” said Bill. “That will be fine. By the way, where is the
Palm Garden?”
“Off A deck, sir. Thank you, sir.” He was gone.
“Well,” grinned Bill, “some system they have aboard this packet!”
“You said it. Too much system to suit me, Bill. We’re likely to come a
bad cropper when we buck it.”
“You know the adage about crossing bridges before you have to, Osceola.
Let’s get into these uniforms. It’s nearly time for mess and I’m hungry
enough to chew rubber.”
The uniforms proved to be made of white duck, and the lads found their
names stitched inside the blouses. An officer’s cap and pair of white
canvas shoes went with each suit. To their further surprise, they found
that all these articles fitted them exactly.
“Gee!” exclaimed Bill, as he saw the two gold stripes on his black
shoulder straps. “This is promotion with a vengeance! When I woke up
this morning, I was only a midshipman. Tonight I’m a full lieutenant!
What’s the Baron made you, big boy?”
“I’ve got a broad stripe like yours, Bill, and a narrow one. I suppose
that rates me something—but what, I don’t know!”
“That’s the insignia of a lieutenant j.g.”
“And what’s the j.g. mean?”
“Junior grade. A j.g. ranks with a first lieutenant in the army.”
“And you, with your two broad stripes rank with an army captain, I
suppose, and you’re my superior officer on board here, I take it?”
“Right. Only we say full stripes, not broad stripes. In Navy parlance,
I’m a two-striper, and you are a one-and-a-half striper.”
“Sounds to me like a convict gang,” laughed the Seminole, as he buttoned
up his blouse. “Well, if you’re ready, I am.”
“Don’t forget your cap,” Bill reminded him. “Strictly speaking, no naval
officer is in uniform without it.”
“Pirate officer, you mean,” grunted Osceola as they entered the
corridor. “Last time we were kidnapped and lacked all this luxury, but
at least what clothes we wore were comfortable. I feel as if somebody
had laced me into a tight corset.”
“You’ll feel better after dinner.”
“Maybe. If the buttons hold!”
Together they mounted the stairs to A deck. A few of the _Amtonia’s_
passengers were lounging about on deck. They paid not the slightest
attention to them, in fact, Bill noticed that their indifference was so
marked that it could not be other than studied.
Then a voice spoke behind them. “Hello, men!” As they turned, Charlie
joined them. “I wanted Father to meet you,” he said, rather
breathlessly, “but he says you’ve joined the pirates, and— But you
haven’t, have you?”
Osceola looked down at him quizzically. “Only pro tem!”
“Gee, what does that mean? I wish you’d talk American.”
“If I spoke my own language, which is real American, youngster, you
wouldn’t understand me any better.”
Bill grinned. “Pro tem means for the time being,” he said. “But I’d
better tell you, Charlie, that the Chief is feeling low tonight, so
don’t get fresh. He’ll tomahawk you one of these days if you don’t look
out!”
“Oh, yeah?” Charlie seemed unimpressed by this dire threat. Then his
tone changed suddenly. “Please, Bill,” he whispered eagerly, “let me be
a pirate, too. Gee, it would be such fun. Can’t I?”
Both Bill and Osceola burst into a shout of laughter. “But how about
your Dad?” asked the Seminole.
“Well, what about him?”
Bill shook his head. “Talk like that to him, and he’ll be offering you
the choice of back or bristles!”
“Aw, cut it out! I’m serious, Bill. Please let me be a pirate!”
“I’ll think about it, Charlie.” Bill took him by the arm and moved over
to the rail. “But I do want you to do something for me,” he said in
lowered tones. “You must keep it entirely to yourself, though. If you
mention it to a single soul, you’ll get us all into a heap of trouble.”
“I won’t—honest, Bill. I’ll shut up like a clam! What is it?”
“All right then, I’ll trust you. I want you to make friends with the
wireless operators. There are two of them. Find out when they relieve
each other, whether the door is kept locked—in fact, find out everything
you can—without making them suspicious. Got that?”
“You bet. Take it from me, they’ll never guess what I’m after!”
“Attaboy! Do you know where our cabin is?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s number 126 on the deck below, starboard side.”
“I can find it.”
“Good. Come there at eleven tonight, and report what you’ve found out.”
“I’ll be there with bells on.”
“Now be careful that nobody sees you come to our door. It won’t be
locked—we’ll be there. Just open it and come in.”
“All right, Bill. You can trust me.”
“That’s all, so cut along now, and remember, eleven sharp. We’ve got a
date for dinner, and I’m afraid we’re going to be late as it is. So
long, Charlie.”
“So long, Bill. So long, Chief.”
Charlie raced away, intent on the importance of his trust and his two
friends hurried toward the Palm Garden.
They found the Baron and his officers awaiting them in the foyer of the
restaurant. The Baron beamed approval on their uniforms and introduced
them to the members of the group they had not already met. These
gentlemen each bowed from the waist and shook hands with continental
formality upon being presented. The Baron spoke a few words, and then as
the single stroke of the ship’s bell clanged, the chief steward appeared
in the doorway.
“Dinner is served, Herr Captain.”
The Baron leading, they went into the restaurant. The meal which they
sat down to proved to be a long, sumptuous affair of many courses. Every
delicacy, in and out of season, was served. Evidently the Baron believed
in living well—on other people. Both lads did full justice to the
banquet. Muffled strains of the ship’s orchestra, hidden behind palms,
lent gaiety to the atmosphere, but could not cut through the rigid
formality of their companions’ demeanor.
It was after ten thirty by the time they left the table and went out on
deck. The stars were like jewels flashing in the great inverted bowl of
night. The dark water gleamed quiet as a mill-pond, reflecting the
slender crescent of a new moon that had just appeared above the horizon.
The Baron puffed a long cigar while he conversed at his ease in a deck
chair.
“This voyage,” he remarked complacently, watching the red ash glow on
the end of his cigar, “is becoming quite a successful undertaking. A few
more months and we can well afford to retire, and go our own ways.”
“But surely, Herr Baron, you are not contemplating ending this splendid
venture?” It was the Chief Engineer who spoke.
“We must not try providence too far, Bauer. To date, this ship is a
mystery to the world at large, it is true. But we have already created
some stir. Personally, I consider it a positive compliment that the
navies of the world are seeking us out to destroy us!”
“It must,” Bill remarked, “afford you a good deal of satisfaction, as
well as profit, Baron.”
He was becoming restive. It was nearing eleven o’clock. The cabin door
was locked and Charlie could not get in. But how to break away without
arousing the Baron’s suspicions, he could not see.
That gentleman puffed contemplatively for a moment or two.
“Yes, you have it right, Mr. Bolton,” he observed at last. “Pleasure and
profit. Outside of the vast sums in money and jewels we have taken from
captured liners, you perhaps do not realize that we have more than two
hundred very wealthy people as passengers. Their ransoms, at the lowest
estimate will run well over a million dollars apiece. Yes, this is a
most profitable business, Mr. Bolton. But of course, a most dangerous
one. We must not practice it for too long a time.”
“Herr Baron,” Bill leaned forward in his seat, and smiled his most
engaging smile, “neither Chief Osceola nor I have had the opportunity
this evening to thank you for your consideration in the matter of our
cabin and the uniforms you have provided us.”
“Yes, indeed, Baron,” Osceola seconded him and threw the stub of his
cigarette over the rail. “Very kind of you, I must say.”
“Oh, do not mention it, my dear fellows.” The Baron was joviality
itself. “Those are small matters and easily attended to.”
“But we appreciate your wish to make us comfortable.” Bill rose, and
Osceola followed his example. “And now, sir, we will say good night. It
has been a long day and a busy one.”
“Good night, my young friends,” beamed von Hiemskirk. “Pleasant dreams,
and _auf wiedersehn_ until tomorrow.”
Everyone stood up and saluted and the lads marched off toward their
cabin. Osceola was unlocking the door, when a stealthy figure appeared
from out the shadows of a cross passage, and Charlie slipped into the
room with them.
“Gee, I thought you were never coming,” he said, as Bill switched on the
light.
“Sorry, Charles, so did we! Have you got any news?”
“Plenty, Bill. I—”
His words were cut short by a crash of gunfire from above. For an
instant they stood listening to the thunder of the gun, then Bill broke
their constrained silence.
“We’ll have to postpone our talk, Charlie, worse luck. There’s something
doing out there, all right, and it’s up to the Chief and me to hustle up
on deck pronto.”
Without further parley the three caught up their caps and ran out of the
cabin.