DAN'S THIRTY-THREE-DOLLAR GUESS
As the two young officers entered the admiral's quarters the curtains
were closed behind them by the marine orderly.
Admiral Timworth was seated at his desk. Beside him was Captain Allen,
commanding officer of the battleship "Hudson," flagship of the
Mediterranean Squadron.
Lieutenant Totten and Cushing were also present.
"Good evening, gentlemen," was Admiral Timworth's greeting, after
salutes had been exchanged. "Accidentally, you became spectators this
evening, at a little drama connected with both the diplomatic and the
secret service of your country."
The admiral paused, but both young officers remained respectfully at
attention, making no response, as none was needed.
"You are aware," continued the admiral, "that Mr. Cushing was knocked
down and robbed of an important government paper. Now, it happens that
this paper was the key to a code employed by the State and Navy
Departments in communicating with naval commanders abroad."
This time Dave actually started. The loss of such a code would be
vitally important. The State and Navy Departments almost invariably
communicate with naval commanders by means of a secret code, which can
be read only by commanders possessing the key. Thus, when cablegrams
are sent from stations in foreign countries, their import can be
understood only by the officers to whom the communications are
addressed.
"That strikes you as a most serious loss, does it not?" asked Admiral
Timworth, smiling.
"Why, yes, sir; so it would seem," Dave answered, bowing.
"The code that was stolen to-night," laughed the admiral, "will be of
but little value to the government into whose hands it may fall. The
code in question was one that was used in the year 1880, and has not
been employed since. Nor is it likely ever to be employed again."
Captain Allen joined in the admiral's laugh.
"We had every reason," continued the admiral, "to believe that an
attempt would be made to steal that code ere Mr. Cushing delivered it
to me. In fact, our government allowed it to be rather widely known
that Mr. Cushing had left Washington to turn over to me a code. So, of
course, Mr. Cushing has been followed. As a matter of fact, the code
that we have been using for the last six months has not been changed.
I was delighted when I learned that Cushing had been assaulted and
robbed. Mr. Cushing himself took the loss seriously, for he did not
know, until he came aboard a few moments ago, that the United States
government had hoped he _would_ be robbed. Lieutenant Totten was sent
ashore, ostensibly to look after the launch, but in reality, to learn,
if possible, whether Cushing's assailant put off in the launch of
another power, and if so, which power. Ensigns Darrin and Dalzell, you
noted, did you not, the nationality of the launch in which Mr.
Cushing's assailant escaped?"
"I did not, sir," Dave replied. "It was not a naval launch, and
therefore did not belong to any ships belonging to the Entente Allies'
naval vessels in port here."
"Then, gentlemen," continued Admiral Timworth, his voice in tones of
formal command, "you will not at any time mention this matter to any
one unless so directed by me. I have had just one object in sending
for you and giving you this order. For some time our Government has
known that secret efforts are being made to discredit us with the
allied powers of Europe. I feel rather certain that this fleet, while
in the Mediterranean, will be closely watched by plotters serving one
of the Central European powers, or else acting on their own account in
the hope of being able to succeed and then claim reward from that
government. Keep your eyes open. You may meet other spies and have
reason to suspect them to be such. Do not be fooled by the apparent
nationality of any man's name. A spy uses many names in his course
around the world. Few international spies ever use their own names.
The man in the green hat, who assaulted Mr. Cushing to-night, is one
of the cleverest of his kind, and perhaps the most able with whom we
shall have to contend. The fellow's name is supposed to be Emil
Gortchky. At one time or another he has served as spy for nearly every
government in Europe. He is a daring, dangerous, and wholly
unscrupulous fellow. Ensigns Darrin and Dalzell, I sent for you in
order to tell you these things, and to add that if, during this
cruise, you run across the fellow at any point, you are to report the
fact to me promptly. Of course you will understand that the seal of
official secrecy attaches to all that I have said. That is all,
gentlemen. Good evening."
Saluting, Ensigns Darrin and Dalzell promptly withdrew. They were
still a good deal puzzled.
"I'll come to your quarters in a minute, if I may," murmured Danny
Grin, as he reached the door of his own cabin.
"I want you to come," Dave answered dryly.
So, in another minute, Dan Dalzell, minus sword and gloves, bobbed
into Dave's room.
"Now, what do you make out of all we have heard and seen?" breathed
Dalzell tensely.
"Just what the admiral told us," answered Darrin.
"Nothing more?" pressed Dan.
Dave was thoughtful for a few moments before he replied:
"Danny, boy, we have our orders from the commander of the fleet. If we
encounter Mr. Green Hat anywhere in the future, we are to report the
fact. That is the extent of our instructions, and I think we shall do
very well not to think too much about the matter, but to be ready, at
all times, to follow our orders."
"I was in hope that you could evolve something more romantic than
that," returned Dalzell disappointedly.
"It is very likely," went on Dave judicially, "that we have already
had as large a hand in the affair as we are going to have. I doubt if
we shall hear anything more of Mr. Green Hat; even if we hear of his
further deeds, we are not likely to have any personal part in them."
"I'm disappointed," Dan admitted, rising. "I'm going to bed now, for I
have to be up at half-past three, to turn out on watch at eight
bells. You, lucky dog, have no watch to stand until after breakfast.
Good night, Dave!"
"Good night; and don't dream of Mr. Green Hat," smiled Darrin. "You'll
never see him again."
In that prediction Ensign Darrin was destined to find himself
fearfully wide of the mark. Mr. Green Hat was not to be so easily
dropped from the future calculations of the youngest naval officers on
the "Hudson."
None of our readers require any introduction to Dave Darrin and Dan
Dalzell, ofttimes known as "Danny Grin." These two fast friends in the
naval service were members of "Dick & Co.," a famous sextette of
schoolboys in Gridley. Dick Prescott, Greg Holmes, Dave Darrin, Dan
Dalzell, Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton first appeared in the pages of
"THE GRAMMAR SCHOOL BOYS SERIES," in which volumes were described the
early lives of these young American schoolboys.
We found the six boys again in the pages of the "HIGH SCHOOL BOYS
SERIES," in the volumes of which the athletic triumphs of Dick & Co.
were vividly set forth. In the "HIGH SCHOOL BOYS' VACATION SERIES"
were recounted their further adventures.
At the conclusion of their high school careers the six chums separated
to seek different fields of endeavor. Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes
secured appointments as cadets at the United States Military Academy
at West Point, as narrated in the "WEST POINT SERIES." Dave Darrin and
Dan Dalzell were nominated as midshipmen to the United States Naval
Academy at Annapolis, and all that befell them there is set forth in
the "ANNAPOLIS SERIES." The great things that happened to Tom Reade
and Harry Hazelton are told in the volumes of the "YOUNG ENGINEERS
SERIES." Dick Prescott's and Greg Holmes' adventures in the Army,
after graduation from West Point, are set forth in the volumes of the
"BOYS OF THE ARMY SERIES."
The "DAVE DARRIN SERIES" is devoted to the lives of Dave Darrin and
Dan Dalzell as naval officers, after their graduation from the Naval
Academy. We now find them serving as ensigns, this being the lowest
rank among commissioned officers of the United States Navy.
The first volume of this series, published under the title, "DAVE
DARRIN AT VERA CRUZ," tells the story of Dave's and Dan's initial
active service in the United States Navy. That our two young ensigns
took an exciting part in the fighting there is known to all our
readers.
For some time after the taking of Vera Cruz by the United States
forces and the arrival of Regular Army regiments, Dave and Dan
continued to serve with constant credit aboard the "Long Island,"
stationed at Vera Cruz. Then followed their detachment from the "Long
Island," and their return to the United States. They were then ordered
to duty with the Mediterranean Squadron, aboard the flagship "Hudson."
We already know what befell them on their arrival at their first port
of call, the British fortress of Gibraltar, and in the quaint old
Moorish city of the same name, which stands between the fortress and
the harbor.
* * * * *
Dan soon took his leave of his chum, going to his own quarters for a
short sleep before going on duty at eight bells in the morning. Dave,
having opportunity to sleep until shortly before breakfast, sat for
some minutes pondering over his strange meeting with Mr. Green Hat,
whom he now knew as Emil Gortchky, a notorious international spy.
Still puzzling, Darrin turned out the light and dropped into his
berth. Once there the habit of the service came strongly upon him. He
was between the sheets to sleep, so, with a final sigh, he shut out
thoughts of Mr. Green Hat, of the admiral's remarks, and of the whole
train of events of the evening. Within a hundred and twenty seconds he
was sound asleep. It was an orderly going the rounds in the early
morning who spoke to Ensign Darrin and awakened him.
"Is the ship under way?" asked Dave, rolling over and opening his
eyes.
"Aye, aye, sir," responded the orderly, who then wheeled and departed.
Dave was quickly out of his berth, and dressed in time to join the
gathering throng of the "Hudson's" officers in the ward-room, where
every officer, except the captain, takes his meals.
"Have you heard the port for which we're bound, Danny?" Darrin asked
his chum.
"Not a word," replied Dalzell, shaking his head.
"Perhaps we shall find out at breakfast," commented Dave.
A minute later the signal came for the officers to seat themselves.
Then, after orders had been given to the attentive Filipino boys, who
served as mess attendants, a buzz of conversation ran around the
table.
Soon the heavy, booming voice of Lieutenant Commander Metson was heard
as he asked Commander Dawson, the executive officer:
"Sir, are we privileged to ask our port of destination?"
This is a question often put to the executive officer of a war vessel,
for ninety-nine times out of a hundred he knows the answer. He _may_
smile and reply:
"I do not know."
Sometimes the executive officer, who is the captain's confidential
man, has good reasons for not divulging the destination of the ship.
In that case his denial of knowledge is understood to be only a
courteous statement that he does not deem it discreet to name the port
of destination.
But in this instance Commander Dawson smiled and replied:
"I will not make any secret of our destination so far as I know it. We
are bound for some port on the Riviera. It may be Nice, or perhaps
Monte Carlo. I am informed that the admiral has not yet decided
definitely. I shall be quite ready to tell you, Mr. Metson, as soon as
I know."
"Thank you, sir," courteously acknowledged the lieutenant commander.
During this interval the buzz of conversation had died down. It soon
began again.
"The Riviera!" exclaimed Ensign Dalzell jubilantly, though in a low
tone intended mainly for his chum's ear. "I have always wanted to see
that busy little strip of beach."
The Riviera, as will be seen by reference to a map of Southern Europe,
is a narrow strip of land, between the mountains and the sea, running
around the Gulf of Genoa. One of the most important watering places on
this long strip of beach is Nice, on French soil, where multitudes of
health and pleasure seekers flock annually. The mild, nearly tropical
climate of this place in winter makes Nice one of the most attractive
resorts along the Riviera. Only a few miles distant from Nice is the
principality of Monte Carlo, an independent state under a prince who
is absolute ruler of his tiny country. Monaco is but two and a quarter
miles long, while its width varies from a hundred and sixty-five yards
to eleven hundred yards. Yet this "toy country" is large enough to
contain three towns of fair size. The most noted town, Monte Carlo,
stands mainly on a cliff, and is the location of the most notorious
gambling resort in the world, the "Casino."
"I wonder," suggested one of the younger officers, in a rumbling
voice, "if our Government feels that we officers have more money than
we need, and so is sending us to a place where we can get rid of it by
gambling. What do you say, Darrin?"
"Monte Carlo is one of the noted spots of the world," Dave responded
slowly, "and I shall be glad to see a place of which I have heard and
read so much. But I shall not gamble at Monte Carlo. I can make better
use of my money and of my character."
"Bravo!" agreed Totten.
"How long is that strip of beach, the Riviera?" asked one officer of
Lieutenant Commander Wales, the navigating officer.
"From Nice to Genoa, which is what is commonly understood as the real
Riviera," replied the navigating officer; "the distance is one hundred
and sixteen miles. But, beyond Genoa, on the other side, the beach
continues for fifty-six miles to Spezia. On the strip from Genoa to
Spezia the shore is so rocky that it has been found necessary to
construct eighty-odd tunnels through the headlands for the railway
that runs the whole length of the Riviera."
Most of the talk, during that breakfast hour, was about the Riviera,
and much of that had to do with Monte Carlo.
"For years I've wanted very particularly to see that town of Monte
Carlo," Danny Grin confessed.
"Not to gamble, I hope," replied Dave.
"Millions for sight-seeing, but not a cent for gambling," Dalzell
paraphrased lightly.
"Gentlemen," warned Mr. Wales, "don't be too certain that you'll see
Monte Carlo on this cruise. Often the weather is too rough for a
landing in that vicinity."
"And in that case?" queried Lieutenant Totten.
"In that case," replied Wales, "the usual rule is for the ship to go
on to anchorage in the harbor at Genoa."
"Any one know whether the barometer is talking about a storm?" Dalzell
asked.
"That's a foolish question," remarked Lieutenant Barnes grouchily.
"Hello!" said Danny Grin, turning half around and eyeing the last
speaker. "You here?"
"As usual," nodded Barnes gruffly.
"What was that you said about a foolish question?" demanded Dan.
"I was referring to your habit of asking foolish questions," retorted
Barnes.
"Do I ask any more of them than you do?" Dalzell retorted, a bit
gruffly.
"You do," Barnes declared, "and that's one of them."
"If I thought I asked more foolish questions than you do, sir," Dan
rejoined, laying down his coffee cup, "I'd--"
Here Dalzell paused.
"What would you do?" Barnes insisted.
"On second thought," Dan went on gravely, "I don't believe I'll tell
you. It was something desperate that I was thinking of."
"Then drop the idea, Dalzell," scoffed Lieutenant Barnes lightly.
"You're hardly the fellow we'd look to for desperate deeds."
"Oh, am I not?" demanded Dan, for once a bit miffed.
Several of the officers glanced up apprehensively. From necessity,
life in the ward-room is an oppressively close one at best. A feud
between two officers of the mess is enough to make all hands
uncomfortable much of the time.
"Cut it, Barnes," ordered the officer sitting on the right-hand side
of Lieutenant Barnes. "Don't start any argument."
"Gentlemen," broke in the paymaster, anxious to change the topic of
conversation, "have you gone so far with your meal that a little bad
news won't spoil your appetites?"
Most of those present nodded, smilingly.
"Then," continued the paymaster, "I wish to bring up a matter that has
been discussed here before. You all know that in some way, owing to
the carelessness of some one, there is an unexplained shortage of
thirty-three dollars in our mess-fund. You appointed Totten and myself
a committee to look into the matter. We now beg to report that the
thirty-three dollars cannot be accounted for. What is your pleasure in
the matter?"
"I would call it very simple," replied Lieutenant Commander Wales.
"Why not levy an assessment upon the members of this mess sufficient
to make up the thirty-three dollars? It will amount to very little
apiece."
That way of remedying the shortage would have been agreed to promptly,
had not Lieutenant Barnes cut in eagerly:
"I've a better plan for making up the shortage. One man can pay it
all, as a penalty, and there will be a lot of fun in deciding which
member has to pay the penalty."
"What's the idea, Mr. Barnes?" asked the executive officer.
"It's simple enough," Barnes went on, grinning. "Let us set apart the
dinner hour on Tuesday evening, say. Every time this mess gets
together we hear a lot of foolish questions asked. Now, on Tuesday
evening, if any member of this mess asks a question that he can't
answer himself, let it be agreed that he pay into the mess a fine of
thirty-three dollars to cover the shortage."
"It won't work," objected Totten. "Every officer at this table will be
on his guard not to ask any questions at all."
"In that case," proposed Barnes, "let the rule hold over on each
successive Tuesday evening until the victim is found and has paid his
fine."
"It sounds like sport," agreed Dave Darrin.
"It will be sport to see the victim 'stung' and made to pay up,"
grinned Dan Dalzell.
"And I think I know, already," contended Lieutenant Barnes, "which
officer will pay that shortage."
"Are you looking at me with any particular significance?" demanded
Danny Grin.
"I am," Barnes admitted.
"Oh, well, then, we shall see what we shall see," quoth Dalzell, his
color rising.
The scheme for fixing the thirty-three-dollar penalty was quickly
agreed upon. In fact, the plan had in it many of the exciting elements
of a challenge.
Darrin left the mess to go on duty. Dan found him presently.
"Say," murmured Danny Grin, in an aside, "do you think Barnes will be
very angry when he pays over that thirty-three dollars?"
"I haven't yet heard that he is to pay it," Dave answered quietly.
"But he _is_," Dalzell asserted.
"How's that?"
"I'm going to make it my business," Dan went on, "to see that Barnes
is the victim of the very scheme that he proposed. He will ask a
question that he can't answer, and he'll do it when Tuesday evening
comes around."
"Don't be too sure of that," Dave warned him. "Barnes may not be
exactly the most amiable officer aboard, but at least he's a very keen
chap. If you are forming any plans for making Barnes pay, look out,
Dan, that your scheme doesn't recoil upon yourself!"
"Wait and see," Dalzell insisted. "I tell you, Barnes is going to pay
that thirty-three dollars into the mess treasury!"