Stepping back, Don Winslow stared at his friend aghast.
“Not everything—not ALL the machinery, I hope, Red!” he groaned. “Man
alive! The Scorpion’s weather mapping machine alone was a priceless
invention. If they’ve blown that up—”
“They didn’t, Commander, so put your mind at rest!” interrupted the rich
brogue of Michael Splendor from the doorway. “I hope you’ll forgive me
for wheelin’ in on ye unexpected, gentlemen. What with the explosions
and the pitchin’ of the ship in that tidal wave, 'tis no wonder ye
didn’t hear me knock!”
Don Winslow turned to grip the crippled man’s big hand.
“We’ll forgive you, Mr. Splendor,” he smiled, “provided you tell us
what’s been happening ashore since yesterday. By the looks of the gang
on the beach, a little while ago, there was a lot of work going on—more
than just laying a dynamite charge.”
“There was indeed!” nodded Splendor. “Captain Riggs’ lads have been
workin’ the whole night tryin’ to salvage the machines of the Scorpion’s
invention. They’ve got most of them aboard ship now, includin’ your
precious weather map. What they blew up just now was little more than an
empty shell. I came in especially to tell ye that, and to bring ye this
bundle before the doctor comes in to bother ye.”
With a broad wink, the big man produced a large package from under the
blanket which covered his crippled legs. Ripping off the paper wrapping,
he disclosed a pair of officer’s uniforms.
“I had to guess at the sizes when I borrowed them, lads,” he chuckled,
“but they should fit better than what ye’re wearin’ at present. Look
under the after part of me wheel chair for another bundle of shirts,
shoes, and whatnot. Ye see, I thought if the doctor saw ye both dressed
and about the decks he’d not have the heart to order ye back to bed. I
know how hard it is for an active man to be kept on his back when
there’s work to do!”
Don Winslow took the package of clothing in wordless gratitude. Somehow,
this middle aged cripple’s thoughtfulness touched him more deeply than
he could express.
Lieutenant Pennington’s pleasure, however, was quite outspoken.
“You’re a lifesaver, Mr. Splendor!” he cried, seizing the bundle out of
Don’s hands. “I’d have died of shame if I’d had to finish this voyage in
a bathrobe and pajamas. I feel a hundred per cent better already. Just
wait till I get these on....”
“What news of Miss Colby, and the seaman Jerry?” asked Don, as Red
retreated behind the locker door. “That is, if it’s not too early for
the doctor’s report.”
“They’re both on the mend,” replied Splendor, his blue eyes twinkling.
“Especially the young lady. Her cabin door was open as I came by, and I
heard her askin’ the medical officer when you would be well enough to
take her for a stroll on deck! But that isn’t all the news I have to
tell ye, Commander. Lieutenant Darnley brought back a bundle of papers
from the chartroom of the underground base. Unless my old eyes deceive
me, there’s one item among them the Scorpion would prefer we didn’t know
about.”
Don, seated on the edge of his berth, leaned forward tensely, his eyes
alight.
“Great work, Mr. Splendor!” he exclaimed. “Red Pennington and I went
through those papers in a hurry without finding a thing of interest.
What was it you picked out?”
“A mere bit of paper tucked away in a small notebook,” answered the
cripple, fumbling in a pocket of his loose coat. “'Tis no wonder ye
overlooked it; but with me nose for smellin’ out secret codes, I was
suspicious of the thing immediately. Now, then—here it is! An
innocent-looking message, is it not? But with the code key right there
in the notebook, it becomes something else entirely.”
Red Pennington, now dressed in a fresh shirt and trousers which fitted
him surprisingly well, edged up to the wheel chair. His eyes were fairly
popping with curiosity and excitement.
“G-golly!” he said huskily. “To think we both had this note in our
hands, and never suspected anything queer! Mind if I look over your
shoulder, Don?”
“Read it aloud, Lieutenant!” urged Michael Splendor, glancing up with a
nod.
Red Pennington bent closer.
“'Proceed with original contract,’” he read, “'for delivery October or
not later than the first of the year. We will expect San Francisco order
on schedule as this Empire contact is highly important. Our telegraph
operator advises that many messages suggest Cho-San as the ideal sales
name for our delightful produce which suggests China Seas and that
catchy name brings orders.’”
“Say, Don!” the red-haired lieutenant commented. “If that’s in code,
it’s a loo-loo! Sounds just like an ordinary business letter, or
something!”
“You’re right, so it does!” chuckled Michael Splendor. “But there’s the
catch. Ye note that the message is typed in five word lines. Very well,
take this pencil and cross out all but the first word in the first line,
the second word in the second line, and so on through the fifth. At the
sixth line begin again with the first word. When ye’ve finished, read me
what ye have left.”
With a low whistle of comprehension, Don Winslow took the pencil and,
stepping over to the cabin’s desk, swiftly made the indicated changes. A
few seconds later, he read off slowly the words which remained:
“'Proceed—October—first—San
Francisco—Empire—contact—Operator—Cho-San—for—China
Seas—orders.’”
“Well, I’ll be keelhauled!” blurted Red Pennington. “That’s a Scorpion
message, all right. It sounds plain enough, too, except for the word
'Empire’ and 'Cho-San.’ Do they make any sense to you, Mr. Splendor?”
The man in the wheel chair did not reply. While Don had been decoding
the message, the cripple had moved his rubber tired vehicle over to the
porthole. He was now gazing out at the sunlit shore line, with an
expression of grim thoughtfulness.
Following the man’s look, Don gave a start of amazement.
“Why, the shore seems to be moving!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t realize the
ship was under way, did you, Red? We were both so interested in this
code message. Where are we bound, Mr. Splendor?”
With a quick movement, the big man whirled his chair about, and faced
the two young officers. His broad, lined face had the look of a person
just waking from a heavy sleep.
“Excuse me, gentlemen!” he said apologetically. “I’m afraid me mind was
far away when ye spoke. The name 'Cho-San’ recalled things I’d like to
forget, if this broken body of mine would let me. But this is no time to
talk of me own troubles! Ye asked where we were bound, did ye not?”
At Don’s silent nod, Michael Splendor’s mood underwent another swift
change. His strikingly blue eyes lighted with their irresistible smile.
“We’re steerin’ for Port-au-Prince,” he stated. “'Tis meself persuaded
Captain Riggs to put us ashore there for a few days, while we’re waitin’
fresh orders from Washington. I’ve a big, cool, country residence of me
own near the city, where ye and Miss Colby will be more than welcome to
stay and recover ye’re full health. Don’t refuse, now, and disappoint an
old shut-in who has little to live for except his friends!”
“Don’t worry!” laughed Don Winslow, exchanging glances with Red. “We’ve
heard plenty about your famous country house, Mr. Splendor, and we’re
not refusing! It’s more like a palace than an ordinary dwelling, I
understand.”
“That’s fine, Commander,” said Splendor, wheeling himself around toward
the door. “And now, if ye’ll just hand me that code letter from the
desk, I’ll be shovin’ off.”
Red Pennington stepped over to the desk, only to stand staring in blank
surprise.
“The paper—are you sure you left it here, Don?” he asked, stooping to
search the deck beneath. “I’d swear you didn’t pick it up again!”
With a puzzled exclamation, Don Winslow joined him in a hunt for the
missing letter.
Every scrap of paper on the desk was examined; every inch of the desk’s
interior was covered. Don’s own pockets were turned inside out.
Frowning, Don turned to Michael Splendor, who had been watching them in
silence.
“It seems to have vanished!” he declared helplessly. “That letter just
isn’t here; and yet, there’s no place it could have gone....”
“Don’t be too sure, Commander!” said the cripple, calmly pointing to the
half-open door. “It _could_ have gone that way, with no more trouble
than a sneak thief would take to lift it. There were several minutes, ye
mind, when none of us was watching that side of the cabin. 'Tis me own
fault, for I should have been on guard. Not even a Government vessel is
safe from Scorpion spies!”
V