Those on the “hurricane deck” waited eagerly to see what would meet
their vision as soon as the submersible rounded the lower end of the
island. They were now gliding swiftly along, and presently the last of
the palmettoes and mangroves would be passed, when, doubtless, a full
sweep of the sea beyond must reward them.
“There they are, Captain!” cried Ballyhoo, pointing.
The boat lay in full sight, with its stern toward them. Already those
in the small cedar launch must have taken the alarm, knowing full well
that pursuit would follow discovery. Plainly the little popping sound
of the exhaust connected with the overboard motor came to the ears
of the boys, showing that the man in the stern had instantly set his
engine going, and was leaving the muffler open in the hope of gaining a
little additional speed.
So the chase began, for the submarine was now heading directly after
the launch, and throwing off a white “bone” from her squat bow.
“Whoo! we’re gaining hand over fist on the bally thing!” asserted
the Jones boy, after a couple of minutes had elapsed, and there was a
chance to make comparisons.
Everybody could see that this was so; even the three men in the launch
must have realized that it was only a question of time when the
submarine would overtake them.
“That man in the stern is crouching there as if he meant to do
something, Captain!” called out Ballyhoo; while Jack was grinding away
at his crank, and getting it all in for future reference; because they
would doubtless often wish to recall these tempestuous happenings when
once more safe at home, and the living, moving thing must far excel
mere word painting.
“I saw a little flash then,” asserted Oscar, “as if he gripped
something in his hand. I wouldn’t be surprised now if he had a weapon
of some sort, perhaps a revolver!”
“Do you believe he’d actually _shoot_ at us?” asked Jack, doubtless
thinking more about his camera than himself, should hostilities open.
“Better be ready to duck down in case he does,” warned the captain.
“That Badger generally surrounds himself with the same kind of men he
is himself; and he’d shoot at the drop of the hat. But we’ll soon fix
that bunch, don’t forget it.”
The efforts of the three men in the little cedar launch to escape were
almost pitiful, Oscar thought. Still, they could not attempt a thing to
increase their speed, for the motor was doing its best already.
All of them seemed to crouch there, and wait for what was going to
happen. Possibly the man at the stern expected that the submersible
would try to draw up alongside, meaning thus to capture the motor-boat;
and it may have been his intention, by a quick flirt to one side, to
avoid the contact. Thus by playing at a game of hide-and-seek, and by
clever dodging, they might be able to defy the efforts of the others to
capture them.
Straight at the launch pushed the larger boat. The distance had been
cut down to one-third by now. Those on the deck of the submarine could
see the faces of the three men clearly, and note the looks of anxiety
that had settled there as they watched the rapid overhauling of their
craft.
“Hey! better keep away, Captain Shooks!” shouted the one in the stern,
waving the object he held in his hand, and which the boys could now
see was indeed an automatic pistol, a dangerous looking weapon in the
bargain.
“Get out of the road, you lubbers!” roared the skipper, as though in
anger; “don’t you see we’re in a hurry? What d’ye mean blocking our way
like that?”
It must have burst upon the minds of the three men in the small boat
what fate was in store for them, and that the submarine captain fully
intended to run them down. The two in the middle of the boat acted as
though ready to jump overboard at the last moment, rather than remain
to take the chances of being hit by the bow of the rushing submersible.
That fellow at the motor was made of different stuff, however. He
immediately raised his arm as though bent on carrying out his loud
threat.
“Drop down, lads!” cried Captain Shooks, who thus showed that he could
be discreet as well as reckless.
All of them hastened to obey, that is, all but Jack, who, despite the
danger, continued grinding away as though bent on accepting all sorts
of risks rather than spoil so good a picture by “stops.”
Then came the sharp report of the automatic. Jack involuntarily ducked,
as though willing enough to make as small a target as possible for the
excited marksman. It seemed as though the man either did not mean to do
any deadly damage for fear of the immediate consequences, or else had
his aim badly shaken by the jarring of the wildly running little motor.
Things had by this time reached a crisis, and the result must be a
collision between the two craft. At the very last the wheelsman had
attempted to make a quick swerve, abandoning his weapon in order to pay
attention to his boat, but it was useless.
The man in the conning tower of the submarine had his orders, and knew
just what was expected of him. There followed a loud crash as the blunt
bow struck the small motor-boat squarely in the centre. Two figures
were seen flinging into the sea on one side, and almost like magic the
cedar motor-boat, splintered by the shock, sank under the agitated
waves.
Immediately the submarine was stopped almost in its own length.
“We’ve got to rescue those poor chaps!” cried Oscar involuntarily, for
all of them had been thrilled by the catastrophe.
“There, I can see one of them over yonder!” called out Ballyhoo; “and
he’s waving his hand to us as if he feared we’d run along and leave him
out here. Hurry, boys, and get around to him, because he acts like he
might be hurt, or else can’t swim very well.”
“And I can see the other sailor now,” added Oscar, “just to one side
of the first one. They both act as if they wanted to surrender. It’s a
long way to land, and then only the Key would be left after all, where
we could easily find them.”
The submarine by this time was making a turn, and heading back to the
spot where the collision had occurred. So far only those two men,
together with a few things connected with the sunken motor-boat could
be seen floating around--a couple of cork cushions, and some parts of
woodwork that had been broken clear of the wreck.
As for the boat itself it had completely vanished, such was the
tremendous impact with which the onrushing submarine had struck.
After making a turn they were now pushing toward the two sailors in the
water. These fellows made no attempt to swim off toward the island, but
seemed satisfied to “tread water,” and wait to be picked up. They could
not believe those on the submarine meant them any further harm, since
by this “accident” they had been deprived of all chance to carry their
information to the one who employed them.
“Where did that third man go to?” asked Ballyhoo, suddenly remembering
that there had been still another aboard the ill-fated launch.
Oscar pointed toward the Key.
“If you will look yonder you’ll glimpse him,” he went on to say. “He’s
swimming for all he’s worth, and now he’s bobbed under just like a
wounded duck.”
“What a silly fool,” laughed Ballyhoo, “to think he could fool us that
easy. Why, even if he did manage to land we’d soon hunt him out. But
he’s built on that order, you see, and won’t give up till the last horn
blows.”
“We know another fellow who often shows just the same stubborn nature,”
chuckled Jack, “without mentioning names either.”
Now they had reached the two sailors, and as the boat drew alongside
they managed to reach the hands that were held down to assist them. So
they were dragged on to the lower deck, dripping wet, and looking as
though they hardly knew what they might expect afterwards.
Captain Shooks roared out an order, and at once the submarine started
after the man who was swimming toward the island, as best he could
with his clothes on. He kept on with gallant overhand strokes, and was
making quite fine progress. If left to his own devices there could be
little doubt he might have easily reached his goal, the island from
which his recent start had been made.
“He acts like he was keeping tabs on us, all right,” said Ballyhoo,
“and means to dive to one side as soon as we get a certain distance
away.”
“And there he goes right now!” added Jack, covering the spot with
his finder, and using his crank energetically to show the sudden
disappearance of the fugitive.
Captain Shooks seemed to be in a merry mood again.
“We’ll give him all the chase he wants,” he told the boys. “I was
always said to be the most accommodating man alive. With those clothes
dragging him down, he’s apt to throw up the sponge pretty soon. It
stands to reason he can’t hold out long.”
The boys reasoned along the same lines. Ballyhoo was for launching the
collapsible, and in this way increasing their force; but Oscar told him
there would be no need. Besides, the chances were that if they came
upon the man, in his anger he would try to upset them, or damage the
light canvas tender of the submarine.
“Better leave it to the skipper, fellows,” he went on to explain;
“he knows what he’s doing, and can gauge that swimmer’s powers of
resistance better than we could. We’ll get him all in good time, never
fear.”
The man in the water gave them a good healthy chase before he found
himself getting so exhausted that it was risky to try any longer. What
with swimming and diving he had to be in constant motion; and just as
the captain said his soaked garments were pulling dreadfully upon his
reserve stock of strength.
“He’s nearly all in now, let me tell you,” Ballyhoo was saying at last,
“and he’s a regular corker when it comes to water dodging. I’ve learned
a few things right here by watching his ways. Yep, there he’s holding
up his hand, which means he is ready to come aboard, if we draw closer.
Well, he’s won the right to be treated decently as a prisoner of war.”
The boy’s words only prove how every one seems to admire the fellow who
puts up a stiff fight. Toward the coward who runs away, even a boy like
Ballyhoo could feel only detestation.
So the boat moved ahead, and then the swimmer was hauled aboard. He had
a sarcastic grin on his face, as, dripping, he finally stood there.
Captain Shooks brushed up to him and thrust out a huge paw.
“Shake hands, you!” he told the latest arrival; “you put up a game
fight, and that’s the kind of man I take off my hat to. Guess you’ve
been taking lessons from your old piratical boss, Badger, because he’s
always had the reputation of being a hard loser.”
At least the man had the good sense to understand it would be wise to
make the best of a bad bargain, so he accepted the skipper’s hand.