THE MYSTERY OF THE “U-13”
“Ahoy!” his hail rang out over the waters. “Send another boat aboard us.
I will transfer the crew of this vessel!”
“Yes, you will!” scornfully replied Jimmie. “You’ll do a lot, you will.
We have something to say about that!”
“I am more astonished than I can say,” the officer replied as he
gazed at the lad. “I had supposed that Boy Scouts would not under any
circumstances lend themselves to a project of an unworthy character.”
“Well, who has done all that?” bristled Jimmie, wrinkling a freckled nose
at the man. “You’re taking a lot for granted, I must say! Who are you,
anyhow?”
“You’ll find out quickly enough!” was the answer.
Turning at the sound of approaching oars, the officer quickly issued a
few short commands.
In obedience to his orders, the boys were required to enter the small
boat without even an opportunity of going below.
“Dodson,” ordered the officer, “take a couple of men and search the
vessel for others. We were informed there were but five, but they may
have confederates.”
Wonderingly the lads sat in the boat as they were rowed across the
intervening distance to the steamer. Scarcely had they set foot on deck
before a line was passed to the submarine and the vessel was under way,
towing their recent habitation.
An orderly conducted the lads directly to the cabin, where they were
greeted by an officer seated at the head of a table. He arose as they
entered and extended a hand to each.
Motioning to seats, the officer again busied himself with some papers
on the table. For some time the boys glanced expectantly at each other,
waiting for the officer to open the anticipated conversation.
Impatiently the boys waited, listening to the regular throbbing of the
steamer’s propellors that told they were again under way.
At length the silence was broken by the arrival of an orderly. Saluting,
he reported briefly to the officer. A nod dismissed him.
“Boys,” began the officer in a kindly tone, “we find ourselves rather
puzzled by some mysterious circumstances which we hope you can explain.
Will you assist us?”
“I assume from the looks of things aboard that you are English,” answered
Ned. “Am I correct?”
“You are. This is a scout vessel doing patrol duty along the coast. In
common with others, we have been on the sharp lookout for a submarine
named ‘U-13,’ which has been doing considerable damage to our shipping.
We capture it without difficulty, to find it manned by Boy Scouts instead
of Germans, as we had expected. Can you explain that?”
“Yes!” laughed Ned. “That is easy. The boat you have captured is owned
by a private individual named Mackinder, who has been amusing himself
in a perfectly innocent pastime. He, like ourselves, is neutral, but
unfortunately has gotten into rather compromising situations.”
“Mackinder?” repeated the officer, wonderingly.
“Yes, sir,” continued Ned. “He rescued us from our disabled submarine. He
is now aboard his vessel with a broken leg.”
“We had him brought aboard this vessel, and find that his leg is really
broken,” explained the officer. “But,” he continued, “you have not quite
explained your presence on a submarine.”
“That is easy—” began Ned. He was interrupted by a sign from the officer.
“Just a moment,” the other said. “We will have Mackinder in here, and
perhaps he can explain a little of the mystery himself.”
At a command from the man two orderlies approached. In a few moments the
boys observed four sailors bearing a mattress upon which lay their late
host.
At the same moment a group approached from the after part of the cabin.
Glancing from one group to the other, the boys rose to their feet with
exclamations of surprise.
“Well, Great Frozen Hot Boxes!” cried Jimmie. “How did you get here,
Mackinder?”
A man from the small group behind the officer stepped forward, smiling.
“I was picked up by the fishing boat you probably saw when I swam away
from the submarine you captured. They transferred me to this craft. We
have since been looking for you.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you, anyway,” returned the lad. “But you couldn’t
prevent our leaving Holland, even if you did try good and hard. Have you
found that package yet?”
The smile quickly faded from the face of the other.
“No, I haven’t,” he answered in a low voice. “I find that you boys have
gotten me into a lot of trouble, too.”
“Trouble?” puzzled Ned. “How have we done that?”
“By secreting that package,” explained Mackinder. “You see, I was
detailed to duty on the Holland frontier. When I saw that package, and
knew that you had recently come from the German lines, I assumed, of
course, that it contained information for the German submarine that has
been causing so much havoc amongst the English shipping. Without waiting
for orders, I tried to follow you and gain possession of the object. Now
it seems I am disobeying regulations by absenting myself from my post of
duty without leave. Further, I was seen aboard or coming from a German
vessel. Hence circumstances look bad for me. I’m due for a court martial
as soon as we land at Margate, which must be close aboard by now.”
All were startled to hear a groan escape the man lying upon the mattress.
He had raised himself upon one elbow.
“Oh, Robert!” he cried. “Not that!”
“Tom!” gasped Mackinder. Soon the two men were shaking hands at a great
rate, tears in their eyes.
“Boys,” Mackinder announced at length, “I must introduce my brother Tom.”
“We have had the pleasure of meeting the gentleman,” stated Ned. “In
fact, we owe our lives to his kindness.”
“But, see here,” demanded Jimmie, stepping forward, “this needs an
explanation. Which one of you fellows was at the little cabin on the
Holland border?”
Tom Mackinder smiled, in spite of the pain of his crushed leg. He turned
his glance toward his brother, whose hand he held.
“We both were there, Jimmie,” he said. “I took the package from the
window. You see,” he continued, “it contained plans of my submarine, with
which you are familiar. I tried to sell the plans to Germany, but found
they had beaten me. So upon my return trip I slipped the package into
your baggage, thinking to escape search and detention at the border. I
have it here now.”
As he ceased speaking he drew from his pocket the same flat package the
boys had seen before.
“Hurrah!” cried Jimmie. “Now we can explain how your brother came to be
captured by the Germans, and how under his direction we stole the other
‘U-13’ and escaped from Helgoland.”
“If what you say is true, young man,” put in the officer, “the
anticipated court martial may never convene.”
“We can prove it!” protested Jimmie vigorously.
“Then we have solved the Mystery of the ‘U-13’!” declared the officer,
with evident relief.
“And now we’ll head for the little old U.S.A. and peaceful neutrality!”
was Jimmie’s joyful comment.
“But you’ll first arrange to care for your share of the cargo aboard my
boat,” interposed the injured Mackinder.
He would not entertain any of the objections raised by the boys, but
insisted that they share in the treasure which had been recovered from
the ocean’s grasp.
A few days later as the boys watched the chalk cliffs of Dover slip away
into the eastern horizon Jimmie turned from the rail of the steamer upon
which they had taken passage.
“Good by, England, and good by the Mackinders,” he said. “I’m glad we are
out of the war zone at last and that we solved the Mystery of the ‘U-13’.”
THE END
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End of Project Gutenberg's The War Zone of the Kaiser, by Capt. V. T. Sherman