MAKING STERN WORK OF IT
Lieutenant Whyte then unfolded, briefly, the plan of Admiral Barkham
for procedure against the yacht and the submarine. To these plans
Admiral Timworth quickly agreed.
"We have four large launches on the flagship," the fleet commander
stated. "Three of these shall be put over the side, officered and
manned and ready for instant service."
"Admiral Barkham also suggests, sir, that, during the night, the
officers in command of your launches run without lights, when
possible, for secrecy," Whyte continued.
"How many launches will Admiral Barkham put in service?" Admiral
Timworth inquired.
"Three, sir," responded Whyte.
"Who will be the ranking officer in your fleet of launches?"
"I believe I am to be, sir," Lieutenant Whyte replied, bowing.
"Very good," nodded Admiral Timworth. "It would not be courteous, in
British waters, Mr. Whyte, for me to appoint an officer who would
rank yourself, so I shall ask Captain Allen to designate Ensign Darrin
as ranking officer in our launch fleet. Ensign Dalzell will naturally
command another of the launches. Who will command the third, Captain?"
"Ensign Phillips," replied Captain Allen.
The courtesy of appointing an ensign to head the American launch fleet
lay in the fact that an ensign is one grade lower in the service than
a junior lieutenant. When naval forces of different nations act
together the ranking officer, no matter what country he represents, is
in command. Had Admiral Timworth put his launch fleet in charge of a
lieutenant commander, for instance, then the British launches, too,
would have been under the command of the American officer. As it was,
Lieutenant Whyte would be ranking and commanding officer in the
combined launch fleet. This was both right and courteous, as Malta is
an English possession, and the waters near by are British waters.
Plans were briefly discussed, yet with the thoroughness that is given
to all naval operations. Lieutenant Whyte departed, and Ensign
Phillips was sent for. Admiral Timworth and Captain Allen charged the
young officers with their duties, upon the successful performance of
which so much depended.
"Remember, gentlemen," was Captain Allen's final word, "that, in line
with what the Admiral has stated, you are merely to co-operate with,
and act under the orders of, the British ranking officer. Yet, if
occasion arise, you will display all needed initiative in attaining
the objective, which is the capture of the scoundrelly plotters and
the seizure of the submarine before it can work any mischief. You will
even sink the submarine by ramming, if no other course be open to stop
her wicked work."
Each of the flagship's launches was equipped with a searchlight. While
the council was going on in the Admiral's quarters the electricians of
the ship were busy overhauling these searchlights and making sure that
all were in perfect working order.
From the British flagship came a prearranged signal to the effect that
Lieutenant Whyte was about to put off.
Dave's launch crew comprised, besides machinists and the
quartermaster, twenty-four sailors and eight marines. A one-pound
rapid-fire gun was mounted in the bow, and a machine gun amidships.
"Send your men over the side, Ensign Darrin," Captain Allen ordered,
as he took Dave's hand. "Go, and keep in mind, every second, how much
your work means to-night."
"Aye, aye, sir," Dave answered.
When the word was passed, Dave's launch party was marched out on deck
and sent down over the side. Dave Darrin took his place in the stern,
standing by to receive any further instructions that might be shouted
down to him. "Cast off and clear!" called down the executive officer.
Dan Dalzell, whose launch party was not to clear until a later hour,
waved a hand at his chum. Dave waved back in general salute.
At the same time Lieutenant Whyte put off from the "Albion" and sped
onward to meet the American craft.
"We are to sail in company to North Channel," called Whyte.
"Very good, sir," Dave answered, saluting.
With three hundred feet of clear water between them, the launches
moved rapidly along.
The distance to the middle of North Channel was about fifteen miles.
Time and speed had been so calculated that the yacht should not be
able to sight them by daylight. After dark the two launches were to
maneuver more closely together, and Whyte, who knew the North Channel,
was to be pilot for both craft until it came time to use their
searchlights.
Over in the west the sun went down. Darkness soon came on. Neither
launch displayed even running lights. One had a sense of groping his
way, yet the launches dashed along at full speed.
Dave Darrin was now in the bow, with the signalman at his side, who
would turn on the searchlight when so ordered. With his night glasses
at his eyes, Ensign Dave could tell when the British launch veered
sharply to port or starboard, and thus was able to steer his own
course accordingly.
Twelve minutes later a brief ray shot from the Englishman's
searchlight. It was the signal.
"Turn on your light," Dave ordered to the man at his side. "Swing it
until you pick up the North Channel. Then pick up and hold a yacht--"
Ensign Darrin followed with the best description he had of the strange
yacht.
Less than a minute later the lights on both navy launches had picked
up the strange yacht, well over in the Channel. Dave studied her
through his glass.
"That's the craft," Darrin muttered to himself. "My, but she looks her
part! While she isn't large for a freighter, she's well calculated for
that class of work."
"Your best speed ahead, sir!" shouted Whyte, through a megaphone.
"Board the yacht on her starboard quarter. Quick work, sir!"
"Very good, sir!" Dave called back.
Then he stepped swiftly amidships to the engineers.
"Get every inch of speed to be had out of the engines, my man."
Next, to the helmsman:
"Quartermaster, steer straight ahead and make that yacht's starboard
quarter!"
As Dave turned, he found his own face within three inches of Seaman
Runkle's glowing countenance.
"Runkle," Dave smiled, "we are fond of the Englishmen. Their
commanding officer called for our best speed, and we're going to show
it."
"Aye, aye, sir!" grinned Runkle. "When any foreigner asks for the best
we have in speed, he's likely to see it, sir."
Already the "Hudson's" launch had drawn smartly ahead of the British
craft, and the distance between them grew steadily, though the
Englishman was doing his best to keep up in the race.
Under the yacht's stern dashed the launch, and brought up smartly
under the starboard quarter, laying alongside.
"Hullo, there! Vat you call wrong?" demanded a voice in broken English
from the yacht's rail.
"Naval party coming aboard, sir," Dave responded courteously. "Take a
line!"
"I vill not!" came the defiant answer.
"All the same, then," Dave answered lightly. "Bow, there! Make fast
with grapple. Stern, do the same!"
Two lines were thrown, each with a grappling hook on the end. These
caught on the yacht's rail. Three or four sailormen, one after the
other, climbed the grappling lines. Two rope ladders were swiftly
rigged over the side, by the Americans on the yacht's deck. Dave
Darrin was quickly on board, with twenty of his seamen and all his
marines, by the time that the English launch rounded in alongside the
port quarter.
"You? Vat you mean?" demanded a short, swarthy-faced man, evidently
captain of the yacht, as he peered at Dave's party. "You are American
sailors!"
"Right," Darrin nodded.
"And dese are British vaters!"
"No matter," Dave smiled back at the blustering fellow. "Here come the
Englishmen."
For he had sent four of his men to catch and make fast the lines from
the British launch, and now the British jack-tars, taking their
beating in the race good-humoredly, were piling on board.
"Captain," cried Lieutenant Whyte, striding forward, "I represent
Admiral Barkham, ranking officer of His Majesty's Navy in these
waters. I have the Admiral's orders to search this craft."
"You search him for vat, sir?" demanded the skipper.
"My orders are secret, sir. The search will begin at once. Ensign
Darrin, if you will leave your marines to hold the deck, we will use
all our seamen and yours below."
"Very good, sir," Dave replied, saluting. "You do not wish any one
allowed to leave the yacht, do you, Lieutenant?"
"Not without my permission or yours, Ensign."
Dave accordingly gave the order to the corporal in charge of his
marine party.
In another minute American and English tars were swarming below decks
on the yacht.
On deck and in the wheel house Darrin had not seen more than four men
of the yacht's crew, besides the skipper.
"There do not seem to be any men below," Dave muttered, as he explored
the yacht between decks. "I wonder if that skipper gets along with
four deck hands in addition to his engine-room and steward forces."
His men in squads, under petty officers, worked rapidly. Dave Darrin
moved more slowly, passing on into the dining cabin and the social
hall of the yacht, which were below decks.
Adjoining the social hall were several cabins. Dave threw open the
doors of the first few he came to, finding in them no signs of
occupation.
Then a steward, smiling and bowing, appeared and asked him in French:
"Do you seek any one here?"
"You have a Prince aboard?" Dave asked.
"Even so."
"And a Japanese nobleman?"
"We have."
"I wish to see them."
"Both are resting at present," the steward expostulated.
"I must see them immediately," Dave insisted.
"It is hardly possible, sir," protested the steward. "It is not to be
expected that I can disturb such august guests."
"Steward, do you wish me to summon my men and have these cabin doors
battered down?"
"Do not do that!" urged the steward in alarm. "Wait! I have pass-keys.
Which would you see first?"
"The Prince, by all means."
"I will admit you to his room, Monsieur, and next silently slip away.
But be good enough to let the Prince believe that he left his door
unlocked. This way, monsieur."
Finishing his whispered speech, the steward glided ahead. He unlocked
a cabin door, opening it but a crack. Dave stepped softly inside.
Instantly the door was pulled shut and locked.
Through transoms on opposite sides of the cabin Mender and Dalny
showed their evil faces, as each trained on the young naval officer an
ugly-looking naval revolver.