DICK ON HIS METTLE.
It was dark when the submarine arrived off the town, and those aboard
her could not have taken in the city's appearance even if their
curiosity had prompted them. All the way in from the point where they
had met the war ship those on the _Grampus_ had been holding a council
of war.
Why had Matt been arrested? Why was he being taken to Punta Arenas?
What was to be done with him there? How long would the _Grampus_ be
delayed? Would the Japanese steamer have time to round the Horn and
reach the other end of the strait before the submarine pushed her nose
into the Pacific?
These were some of the questions canvassed by those aboard the
_Grampus_. No one was very much worried over Matt's safety, for
they all felt that the Chilian authorities would not dare go to any
desperate length with him. The worst that could happen would be the
delay to the _Grampus_--but that was likely to be grievous enough if
the Jap steamer was in a position to take advantage of it.
"I shall go ashore," declared Glennie, "just as soon as the _Grampus_
reaches the town, and lay the matter before the American consul."
"The British consul's my man," declared Dick.
"Our boat sails under the American flag," said Glennie, "and the
logical man for us is the American consul."
"The British consul cuts more ice," affirmed Dick, "and I shall go to
him."
"Vere iss it for me to go?" piped up Carl. "I vant to do somet'ing for
my bard, Modor Matt."
"You, and all the rest of the submarine's crew," said Dick, "will stay
on board and watch the boat. If any one tries to come aboard, close the
hatch and sink to the bottom. I guess they won't go after you in diving
suits."
On reaching the town, the _Salvadore_ took up her berth a cable's
length off the wharf. The submarine, being of light draught, lay to
alongside the wharf, and Dick and Glennie went ashore. As soon as they
had landed, Carl, who was left in nominal command, backed off for
half a cable's length and let go the anchors. It was arranged that
a sharp whistle from the shore was to bring the _Grampus_ back to
that particular part of the wharf as soon as the mud hooks could be
lifted. All on board were to keep awake and remain ready, at a moment's
warning, to assume their duties.
When this arrangement was made, none of those concerned in it had the
remotest idea of the importance it was to hold in the progress of
events. It went to prove that carefully laid plans are always best,
even when an excess of care does not seem essential.
Neither Dick nor Glennie knew where their respective consuls were to
be found. Happening to meet a soldier from the garrison, however, he
directed them.
Having secured their bearings, Dick and Glennie separated. For this
Dick was not sorry. The ensign had a number of little mannerisms,
entirely unaffected, although they did not seem so, which Dick was far
from admiring. Then, again, Dick Ferral had been an apprentice seaman
in His British Majesty's navy, and Glennie was a commissioned officer.
The fact that Glennie held his commission in the United States and
not in the British navy did not seem to lessen the breach that lies
between the forecastle and the quarter deck. At least, it did not in
Dick's estimation.
Dick was not long in finding the vice-consul's house--and not much
longer in discovering that the vice-consul was out of town for a week,
having taken a horseback journey into the interior. His affairs,
meanwhile, had been left in the hands of the German consul.
"I'll be shot," grumbled Dick, to himself, as he came away from the
vice-consul's door, "if I call on any Dutchman. I guess it's up to Mr.
Glennie, so here's hoping that he puts his conceit in his pocket and
gets the United States consul to do something."
Dick, loitering back along the street, suddenly came face to face with
Glennie, who struck into the thoroughfare Dick was following from a
crossroad.
"Well!" exclaimed Glennie, recognizing Dick by a street lamp.
"Is it?" returned Dick, none too well pleased by a meeting.
"Is it--what?" queried Glennie.
"Why, well. What did the consul promise to do? And, if he promised
anything, why isn't he along with you to do something? You don't want
to have Matt spend the night in the war ship's bally old brig, do you?"
"I had hard luck," said Glennie disappointedly. "The American consul
has taken a horseback ride into the country and won't be back for a
week. He left his affairs in the hands of the German consul."
"Keelhaul me!" growled Dick. "That's just what I was told at the
British vice-consul's. That's all we have here now is a vice-consul. He
left _his_ business with the German consul, too. I wonder if those two
fellows went into the country together?"
"More than likely," was the gloomy response. "What are we to do now?"
"Call on the Dutchman. I'd rather be flogged than do it, for Carl's
about the only Dutchman I ever saw who was worth knowing. But I'll go,
if it's going to help Matt."
"Let's hunt up some one to tell us where the German lives."
Having agreed on their course, the two boys set off to follow it. A
sailor gave them their directions, from which it appeared that the
consul they were looking for lived on the other side of the city, not
far from the shore. As the easiest way of reaching his house, Dick and
Glennie returned to the wharf and followed it for a short distance. It
had been their original intention to keep along the wharf until they
reached a point opposite the square of houses containing the German's
residence, but something occurred to interfere with their designs.
Just as they were abreast of the spot where the Chilian war ship was
anchored, they heard a splash of oars.
"A boat's coming ashore," said Dick. "Let's draw back and watch. If the
captain's in the boat we'll tackle him and make him tell us something
about Matt. It's no more than fair that we should be told what Matt's
been arrested for."
"Quite right," agreed Glennie. "Here's a good place to wait, Ferral."
The ensign pointed to a pile of timbers close to the wharf.
"Just the place," assented Dick, and, in a few moments, they were
screened from sight and watching the approaching boat.
The launch hove alongside the wharf and five figures could be seen
climbing up on the old timbers. Just who the persons were the darkness
made it impossible for Dick and Glennie to discover. Their ears,
however, soon gave them the knowledge that their eyes could not yield.
"I claim the right to be taken to the American consul!" said a voice.
Dick was so startled he almost dropped.
"It's Matt!" he whispered hoarsely. "By glory, they've brought my old
raggie ashore!"
"Listen!" urged Glennie.
"You will not go to the American consul's to-night," an authoritative
voice answered the young motorist.
"There will be trouble over this, Captain Sandoval," went on Matt, "if
you don't take me to my country's representative."
"It is impossible."
"Why?"
"Because the American consul is not in the town. He has gone away for a
week. When he comes back, you may see him."
"Are you telling me the truth, Captain Sandoval?"
"_Carajo!_ I will not allow you to talk to me like that."
Some words in Spanish followed, evidently an order to those who
accompanied the captain and Matt.
"Stop!" commanded Matt. "Before you take me to the house of the harbor
master, I have another demand to make."
"We are wasting too much time over your demands," replied the captain
sternly. "The harbor master may have gone to bed if we wait too long. I
do not wish to put him to any inconvenience."
"His convenience is as nothing compared to mine. If the American consul
is not in town, then I ask you to take me to the British consul."
A laugh arose to the captain's lips.
"As it happens, _amigo_," said he, "the British consul left town with
the American. Neither will be back here for a week."
"That is too much of a coincidence to be true," answered Matt.
"You have disputed my word too much, already," snapped the captain,
"and I will bear no more."
Again he gave the order to move, and again Matt hung back.
"If necessary," cried the captain, "I will have the marines carry you.
Forward, I say."
"Let me have a word with my friends on the submarine," continued Matt.
"I shall allow you to talk with no one but me--and the harbor master.
In a week you may see your consul."
"I tell you I can't stay here in Punta Arenas for a week. The submarine
must leave Sandy Point in the morning."
"If so," was the sarcastic rejoinder, "then she leaves without you."
Motor Matt had borne patiently with Captain Sandoval, but now his
patience seemed to have given out.
"Captain Sandoval," he cried, "I defy you to go ahead and do your
worst; and, at the same time, I warn you that the more trouble you make
me the more you are making for yourself. I can't understand what you
are trying to do, for your excuse for arresting me and taking me away
from the submarine is as unreasonable as it is foolish. If----"
"Do you threaten me?" stormed the captain.
"Yes," was the calm response, "and defy you, at the same time. Now go
ahead and let's see how far your crazy ideas will carry you."
The captain, in a tone that bespoke his fierce anger, gave orders for a
third time to the marines who were with him.
The orders were obeyed, and the marines started.
"I'm a Fiji," whispered Dick, "if they're not coming this way!"
"I believe you're right," answered Glennie, carefully watching the
direction taken by the dark forms.
"They'll pass close to the end of this pile of timber," continued Dick.
He spoke rapidly, and there was a good deal of excitement back of his
words.
"I guess that's so, too. But what of it?"
"What of it?" repeated Dick. "Say, Glennie, if you're the right sort,
now's the time to show it."
"I'm over my head," said Glennie. "What are you thinking about?"
"I'm on my mettle to-night," pursued Dick.
"From your excited condition I should judge that that might be the
case."
"Do you want to see the _Grampus_ held up for a week in this blooming
place at the south end of Nowhere?"
"Of course not!"
"Well, that's what will happen, sure as fate, if those fellows take
Matt to a lockup. Neither the American consul, nor the British
vice-consul, will be back for a week, or----"
"But there's the German consul we're going to call upon."
"Ten to one he'll play safe, and make us wait until the American consul
gets back. Now we know Matt hasn't done a thing that calls for this
sort of treatment. It's an outrage. But that's not the worst. The delay
to the _Grampus_ may throw us into the hands of those Sons of the
Rising Sun, and that _might_ prove the destruction of the submarine.
Everything hangs on us, right here and now. Matt has given his defiance
to the captain of the war ship. Let's match him, and go him one better
by giving defiance to all the powers of Chili, naval and military."
"How?"
"Why, by laying for that blooming lot of swabs and taking Matt away
from them by main force! Are you with me? In other words, John Henry
Glennie, are you a man or just an imitation of one with a uniform and a
commission in the United States Navy?"
Dick Ferral certainly was on his mettle! His proposition almost took
Glennie's breath; but, notwithstanding, there was a taunt in the last
words which did not escape the sensitive ensign.
"By Jupiter!" he exclaimed. "It's a wild, impossible piece of work, but
I'm with you!"
"Then lie low here and wait for those fellows to come along!"