THE MYSTERIOUS SCHOONER--CONCLUSION.
"Bulkley, do you see some object in the air--off there to the
northwest?"
Commander Dunham, of the Dreadnought _Manhattan_, paused in his steady
pacing of the after deck, and turned to Ensign Bulkley, the officer of
the deck.
Ensign Bulkley brought into play the insignia of his diurnal office, a
powerful telescope, done in brown leather, with polished, black metal
trimmings. With it, he swept the sky in the direction indicated by his
superior, for some minutes.
"I do see something, sir," he said presently, "a black object, like a
large bird. But it's bigger than any bird I ever saw. By Jove, sir,
it's--it's an aeroplane!"
"An aeroplane! Impossible. How could one find its way to Blackhaven
Bay? And what could be its errand here?"
"I've no idea, sir. But I'll wager my commission that it is one.
Suppose you look yourself, sir?"
The officer of the deck handed his telescope to his commanding officer.
Commander Dunham gazed intently through it for a few moments. Then he
turned to Bulkley.
"By all that's wonderful, you're right, Mr. Bulkley. It seems to be
coming this way, too."
"Not a doubt of it, sir. But at the rate it is advancing it should not
be long before we are aware of its errand."
"At all events, it will relieve the monotony, Bulkley. Anchored here
since yesterday and no orders yet. However, I suppose mine practice and
general gunnery will be the program."
"I expect so, sir," was the response.
Both officers gazed over the leaden expanse of the landlocked bay about
them.
Five battleships, two cruisers, and three torpedo-boat destroyers lay
at anchor, in regular files. Hard by was a "parent ship," with her
flotilla of submarines nestling alongside, like small chickens round a
motherly old hen.
"Desolate country hereabouts," said Commander Dunham presently. "I
shouldn't have thought that an airman could have found his way here."
"It hardly seems possible," agreed his junior; "it's as barren a bit of
coast as can be imagined."
The aeroplane drew closer. Its outlines were quite apparent now. On
every vessel of the fleet excitement over its approach was now visible.
Bright bits of bunting began to "wig-wag" the news from ship to ship.
On every foredeck jackies almost suspended the tasks in hand to watch
the oncoming of the aerial craft.
"What a contrast, Bulkley," observed Commander Dunham presently. "See
that old sloop off there to seaward? She is of an almost obsolete type,
while above us is coming the herald of a new era in peace, as well as
war."
"That is so, sir. But that sloop, obsolete as she may appear, is quite
fast. I understand she has been tacking about the fleet all day. I
wonder what she wants?"
"Some fisherman, probably. However, see that she does not come too
close. In confidence, Bulkley, I have been warned, in common with every
other commander of the fleet, to beware of a band of daring anarchists
who, it appears, have made no secret abroad of their intention to
damage the United States navy."
The navy officer showed no surprise. It is a common enough incident
for warnings of the same character. The mail of the navy department
at Washington is always full of letters--some of them menacing in
tone--from over-zealous apostles of "universal peace." Occasionally,
too, a spy is unearthed serving in Uncle Sam's uniform. Such fellows
are usually deported quietly and swiftly.
"I shall keep an eye on that sloop, sir, in that case," said the
ensign, "but I'm afraid it will be difficult to do so before very long."
"How is that, Bulkley?"
The ensign waved his hand seaward. A hazy sort of atmosphere enveloped
the horizon.
"Fog, eh?" commented the commander.
"Yes, sir. It will be all about us soon, or I'm mistaken. But look,
sir, that aeroplane is almost above us."
"By George!--so it is. What's the aviator doing? He's signalling us.
He's pointing downward, Bulkley, too."
"Looks as if he wanted to land on our decks, sir."
"It does. Hark! What's that he's shouting? Pshaw, I can't hear. Tell
you what, Bulkley, order the aerial landing platform rigged at once. It
ought not to take more than fifteen minutes."
"I'll have it done at once, sir."
The officer hastened off on his errand. A scene of bustle ensued. A
hundred jackies were busy transporting sections of the adjustable
platform on which Ned had landed on the occasion of his great triumph.
The scene appeared to be involved in inextricable confusion. But each
man had his task to perform, and each pursued it industriously. Before
long the platform was up--all but the flooring. The work of laying
this on the steel uprights and skeleton supporting structure was soon
accomplished.
All this time the mysterious aerial visitant had been hovering aloft.
But his task of keeping above the battleship was getting momentarily
more and more difficult. The atmosphere was rapidly thickening. In
white wraiths and billows the fog, which Ensign Bulkley had prophesied,
came rolling in. Beads of moisture gathered on everything. From the
deck the tops of the basket-like military masts grew every minute more
difficult to espy. The aeroplane, circling in space, was a mere blur.
"All ready, sir," announced Ensign Bulkley before long. By this time
the after-deck was crowded with officers. All were gazing upward into
the steamy fog.
"Give him a signal, Bulkley," ordered the commander.
"He'll find it hard to see one, sir."
"Signal the bridge, then, to blow three blasts on the siren. He can
hear that."
"Hoo-oo-o-o-o! Hoo-oo-o-o-o! Hoo-o-o-o-o!"
A few seconds later the uncanny voice of the siren cut the mist.
Without hesitation, the dim object in the fog above them, began to come
downward. It swung through the thick air rapidly. In a short time it
was off the stern of the _Manhattan_, and ten minutes after the signal
had sounded Ned Strong ran his aeroplane upon the landing platform so
speedily erected.
But if the manner of his arrival had been sensational, the effect it
created was even more so.
"It's Strong! The man we were wirelessed had decamped with part of
Lieutenant De Frees' funds!" exclaimed Captain Dunham amazedly.
Ned half staggered from his seat and came toward him. The sailors
stood to one side, in a half-awed fashion. Ned's face, after his long
and trying strain, was ghastly. His eyes shone with an unnatural
brightness.
"Well, my lad," said the commander briskly, "what is the meaning of all
this?"
"I--I--can I speak----" began Ned.
But suddenly the decks and the eager faces about him seemed to join
in a mad dance. He swayed weakly, and would have fallen, had not some
jackies near at hand caught him.
"Send that man to the sick bay," ordered Commander Dunham. "There's
something out of the ordinary in all this," he said in a lower tone to
his officers.
Ned was half-carried, half-supported, to the ship's hospital. He soon
recovered from his temporary weakness, and asked to see the doctor at
once. When that dignitary responded to the summons, he drank in, with
eager ears, Ned's astonishing story. The result was, that Commander
Dunham was at once requested to visit the sick bay. A conference
ensued, which lasted till almost dark. By that time Ned was fully
recovered.
It was after dark that a torpedo-boat destroyer, with Ensign Bulkley in
command, slipped away from the fleet and vanished in the fog. On the
conning tower, beside the officer, was Ned Strong.
The powerful searchlight cut a bright path through the mist ahead.
Somewhere in that smother lay the craft they were in search of, the
anarchists' sloop, on board of which Herc was a prisoner. How eagerly
Ned longed for the fog to lift, may be imagined. But they cruised
all night without a sign of its lifting. By daylight they were some
distance out at sea. When, at eight o'clock, the fog began to lift, the
shore was revealed, before long, as a dim, blue streak in the distance.
But nobody had eyes for that when a sudden shout went up from the
lookout forward.
The man had sighted a sail on the horizon. But as they drew closer
to it, the craft was seen to be a schooner with a short, stumpy
mizzen-mast.
"That's not our boat," said the ensign disappointedly.
"But what can have become of the sloop, sir?" wondered Ned. "Surely,
she couldn't have vanished from sight during the night. She's not a
fast enough sailer for that."
"True," said Bulkley. "By Jove!" he exclaimed suddenly, "you don't
think those chaps have disguised her, do you?"
"They might have, sir. Don't you think it's worth while to board that
schooner, anyhow?"
"I do, Strong," agreed the officer.
The destroyer was headed toward the schooner. The wind had dropped and
the vessel was rolling idly on the oily sea.
"Aboard the schooner there!" cried the officer, as they came up close
to the vessel with the peculiar-looking after-mast. "Stand by! We are
going to board you."
A bearded man stood at the helm. He was the only person visible.
Ned scrutinized his face eagerly, but could not recognize him. This
individual only waved a hand in response to the officer's order. But,
as the destroyer's way was checked, and she lay idly on the waves, he
suddenly vanished into the cabin. The next instant a square port at the
schooner's bow was swung open, and, without the slightest warning, a
long, shining, cylindrical object was shot forth.
It struck the water with a swirl of spray, and then, with a line of
white wake, in its swift course, headed straight for the destroyer.
"A torpedo!" exclaimed the officer, who, with Ned, was just about to
clamber into one of the lowered boats.
The men on board set up a horrified shout. So short was the distance
between the two craft that between the launching of the torpedo and
the dreaded impact of its "war head" against the side of the destroyer
seemed but an instant. It was a fearful instant, though, and lived long
in the recollection of those who endured it.
The torpedo struck the side of the destroyer with a metallic clang. But
no explosion followed. Instead, the implement floated harmlessly off.
"Phew!" exclaimed the officer, wiping his forehead. "What an escape! I
thought we were all booked for Kingdom Come. Come, lads, man the oars
quickly. We'll get those anarchistic rascals out of their rat-holes and
make them suffer for this outrage. But what the dickens was the matter
with that torpedo?" he muttered.
"I think I can explain, sir," rejoined Ned.
"By Jove, you can? Let's hear your explanation."
"You see, sir," said Ned, "while Herc and I were exploring that cabin,
we found those torpedoes. Well, when an opportunity presented itself,
I unscrewed the head of each, and withdrew the gun-cotton. But I was
afraid that, after they marooned me, the anarchists might have examined
them and found out what I'd done and reloaded them. But I'm confident
now that they haven't."
"No, you've drawn their teeth with a vengeance. I tremble to think,
though, what would have happened if they had had an opportunity to use
one of the loaded ones. They're a sharp outfit of tricksters, too, with
their disguised sloop."
"But not sharp enough to fool Uncle Sam," exclaimed Ned, as the boat
was run alongside.
As it scraped the disguised sloop's side, a figure suddenly appeared on
the deck. It was Herc. He made a flying leap for the boat, and landed
in a heap in their midst.
"Row for your lives!" he yelled. "That maniac, Muller, is about to blow
up the vessel. I got away by knocking a couple of the crew galley-west."
"Give way, men!" shouted the officer, and willing arms pulled the boat
from the schooner's side. But the explosion did not come. Instead, two
figures, recognized as those of Merritt and Chance, appeared on the
deck. They signalled for the boat to come closer.
"We captured Muller, just as he was about to blow up the sloop," they
shouted. "If we surrender, will you show us clemency?"
"I'll make no promises," was the grim reply of Ensign Bulkley.
Something like an hour later, the destroyer, with the disguised sloop
in tow, re-entered Blackhaven Bay. On board her--a raving maniac--was
Herr Muller. His long-smouldering insanity had at last broken into
flame. He was confined on board the _Manhattan_ for a time and then
removed to an asylum, where he now is. He will never recover his
reason, and unceasingly imagines that his mission is to destroy the
United States navy. As for his followers, they received various terms
in prison. Kennell, alone, escaped. It transpired that he had been sent
ashore after supplies, and so was not on board the disguised sloop when
the futile attempt to blow up the destroyer was made.
Of course, the suspicion which had been directed against Ned and Herc
was speedily explained away, and they were rated higher than ever in
the estimation of their officers. Part of the substantial monetary
reward Ned received for his courage and resource in reaching the
fleet, via aeroplane, was sent to Professor Luminetti, the King of the
Air. The quartermaster at Dundertown received a severe reprimand for
his over-zealousness, but nothing more was done to him, as, after all,
he thought he was performing his duty.
Had we space, we would like to relate the further aerial adventures of
Ned and Herc on Aero Service. But sufficient have been related here
to convey some idea of the importance of such an adjunct to our navy.
It will always be a proud boast of the Dreadnought Boys that they
helped to establish the aeroplane as a valuable auxiliary of the modern
battleship.
But the scenes shift rapidly on the stage of naval life. Fresh places
and opportunities were shortly to be presented to the Dreadnought Boys.
Uncle Sam's navy was on the eve of its epoch-making, globe-circling
voyage. If you care to follow further the careers of The Dreadnought
Boys, and learn how they conducted themselves amidst novel
surroundings and changing and exciting conditions, you will find it all
set down in the next volume of this series, "_The Dreadnought Boys'
World Cruise_."
THE END.
Transcriber's Notes:
Retained some inconsistent hyphenation (e.g. farmhouse vs. farm-house)
from the original.
Italics are represented with _underscores_.
Page 1, added missing quote before "THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS ON A
SUBMARINE."
Page 86, changed ? to , after "I guess that's just what we are, ma'am."
Page 178, corrected chapter number from XVI to XVII and removed
unnecessary quote after "inclined to doubt him."
Page 196, corrected chapter number from XVII to XVIII.
Page 207, fixed typo "interruped" in "Further conversation was
interrupted."
Page 243, corrected chapter number from XXII to XXIII.
Page 268, fixed typo "montony" in "it will relieve the monotony."