UNDER THE YANKEE ENSIGN
[Illustration: Roaring, firing, cheering, the _Conklin_ blazed her
way by]
UNDER THE
YANKEE ENSIGN
BY
RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
AUTHOR OF “FOR THE FREEDOM OF THE SEAS,” “THE HALF
BACK,” “THE SPIRIT OF THE SCHOOL,” ETC.
[Illustration]
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
NEW YORK LONDON
1919
Copyright, 1919, by
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
Printed in the United States of America
CONTENTS
PART I. ACROSS WITH THE FLAG
CHAPTER PAGE
I. DAVE MAKES AN ENEMY AND FINDS A FRIEND 3
II. SUBMARINE CHASER NO. _944_ 13
III. LOST OVERBOARD 24
IV. THE MUTINY 34
V. “SURRENDER!” 44
VI. PETE TO THE RESCUE 53
VII. PRISONERS ON THE SUBMARINE 63
VIII. UNDER THE SEA 76
IX. THE ESCAPE 91
X. DAVE FALLS ASLEEP 104
PART II. SWEEPING THE SEAS
I. ON PATROL 119
II. THE NEW “GOB” 130
III. “CLEAR FOR ACTION!” 143
IV. THE HUN SHOWS HIS TEETH 154
V. CONVOY DUTY 165
VI. FLOATING PERIL 178
VII. ON THE MINE SWEEPER 187
VIII. PETE MEETS AN OLD FRIEND 199
IX. THE ADMIRAL MAKES GOOD 215
PART III. STAND BY!
I. DESTROYER “GOBS” 227
II. A CHASE INTO THE FOG 242
III. THE FLAG COMES DOWN 253
IV. HEROES IN PORT 262
V. “SUBMARINE!” 272
VI. THE MUTINY 283
VII. THE START OF AN ADVENTURE 293
VIII. THE AIR RAIDERS 309
IX. PRISONERS OF WAR 318
X. “STAND BY!” 328
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING
PAGE
Roaring, firing, cheering, the _Conklin_ blazed
her way by _Frontispiece_
Silently they watched the U-boat’s approach 64
“Got her!” Kennedy shouted triumphantly 156
The oars dipped and the boat headed for the submarine 280
PART I
ACROSS WITH THE FLAG
UNDER THE YANKEE ENSIGN
CHAPTER I
DAVE MAKES AN ENEMY AND FINDS A FRIEND
“Hello, sonny; who let you on board?”
The tall, stoop-shouldered sailor with the thin face grinned
malignantly. His right sleeve bore a seaman gunner’s mark and a single
enlistment stripe adorned the other. He was a dark-visaged man of
nearly thirty, with deeply-set and crafty eyes under thick, scraggly
brows. The boy who, at the challenge, had paused at the foot of the
fo’c’sle companion, decided then and there that he didn’t like the man,
but he replied quietly and amiably:
“The quartermaster. Do you know which of these bunks are empty?”
“Why, say, you ain’t thinkin’ of bunkin’ for’ard! Cabin boys always
live aft, sonny.”
“If you mean me, I happen to be a seaman.” David Garson moved across
the narrow fo’c’sle and laid his canvas bag on a bunk that showed
no evidence of occupancy. He was seventeen, but scarcely looked it,
for he was not over tall for that age, and had a very boyish face.
But his lack of stature appeared to be atoned for by a compact,
well-proportioned body, and there was capability and self-reliance
behind the youthfulness of his countenance. He was a nice-looking chap,
although you wouldn’t have called him handsome, with brown hair and
eyes, and a well-tanned skin showing above the low neck of his navy
shirt.
“A what!” exclaimed the other, assuming deep incredulity. “My, ain’t
it awful what war does? Snatches the babes right out o’ their cradles,
don’t it? Where’d you leave your nurse, sonny?”
“Where you left your manners,” was the quiet reply.
“Is that so?” sneered the sailor. “Smart, ain’t you? Sort o’ precocious,
eh? Bet your ma felt terrible about losin’ you. Bet you was the sunshine
of the old home, wasn’t you?”
“What have you got against me?” asked Dave, puzzled.
“Not a thing! Not a thing! Only you’re too fresh, see? And I’m tipping
you off that you want to talk civil, or something painful might happen
to you.”
“I see,” responded the boy, dryly. “Some one might mistake me for you.”
“Aw, cut it!” growled the other. “For two cents I’d hand you a wallop,
you smart Alick! ‘Seaman,’ says you! I’ve swabbed deck with fellers
twice your size, and I’ll do it again if you give me any of your lip!”
“Why don’t you let me alone if you don’t like my ways?” asked Dave. “I
didn’t start anything.”
“You’d better not try to.” The gunner, who had followed across the
fo’c’sle, stretched forth a big hand and gave the boy’s head an
ungentle push that, while it did not hurt, sent the blood pouring into
the tanned cheeks. Dave sprang from the edge of the bunk with blazing
eyes.
“Keep your dirty hands off me!” he said in a voice that trembled in
spite of his efforts to keep it steady. “I haven’t bothered you, and
you’ve no call to bully me. Now let up!”
“Is that so?” asked the other, thrusting a grinning face closer.
“Suppose I don’t? What would you do, you cute little thing? For two
cents――”
“Lay off the kid, Chuck!” interrupted a peremptory voice.
Unheard by them, a short, squarely-built, tow-headed youth of about
nineteen had descended the companion. He had a round, freckled face,
pale blue eyes, a short, button-like nose, and square jaws that were
just now rhythmically busy with a piece of gum. He came across the
fo’c’sle with a sort of cocky swing of his broad shoulders and a wide
smile. But the smile didn’t deceive either Dave or his tormentor. “Some
day, Chuck,” went on the newcomer, “you’ll make a mistake an’ light on
a guy that’s ’most half your size.”
“What’s it to you, Rooney?” demanded the gunner. “You mind your own
business, or I’ll hand you something, too!”
“You an’ who else?” inquired the other. “Say, Chuck, you ain’t got
enough up your sleeve to make a motion. The only thing you ever licked
was a stamp, and that didn’t stick. Go on! Fade away! Beat it!”
“Maybe you can make me!” growled the gunner. But he was already making
a slow retreat. “This baby-face got fresh with me, and I was telling
him something for his own good. If he don’t look out he’s going to run
into something hard, see? And that goes double for you, Rooney!”
“Yeah, I know,” replied Rooney, sarcastically. “I been hearin’ that
dope for a week. You’re just bluff, Chuck. You ain’t got nothin’ but
talk.”
“I got enough to put you to sleep, you Bowery tough!”
“Tough’s the word, matey! Tough enough for you any old day.”
“Is that so?” The gunner edged with exaggerated nonchalance to the foot
of the companion. “I’ll get you, just the same, believe me!”
“Sure you will――if my back’s turned,” was the untroubled reply. “But it
ain’t goin’ to be turned, Chuck.”
“You think you’re smart, don’t you? I’ll fix you some time.” He climbed
the companion, still muttering, and disappeared through the fo’c’sle
hatch. The tow-haired one turned to Dave, chuckling.
“Ain’t he amusin’?” he asked. “What was he ridin’ you for?”
“I don’t know. He started it. Much obliged for――for――”
“Buttin’ in?” laughed Rooney. “That’s all right, kid. Me an’ Chuck’s
been yappin’ at each other ever since this boat left Norfolk. But
nothin’ ain’t happened yet. Some time I’ll paste him one just to end
the――the expense.”
“Suspense?” laughed Dave.
“That’s it.” The tow-headed youth grinned. Then: “Say, what’s your
name?” he asked.
“Garson,” answered Dave.
“Mine’s Rooney; first name, Pete. I’m French.” He winked broadly.
“What’s your other monicker?”
“Other――oh, David; Dave for short.”
“Sure! Like the feller in the Bible. An’ Chuck Morgan was playin’
Goliar, or whatever his name was. You come from down south, don’t you?”
“Maryland.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s the place they sing a song about. I knew you was
from somewhere down yonder, because you talk different. How long you
been in?”
“A little over three months. I left the Newport station a week ago
Tuesday. I got up here this morning. Do you know if I can take this
bunk?”
“Sure. Take any you like. If any guy kicks, send him to me. What watch
you in?”
“Port,” replied the other. “Are you?”
“Yeah. Stow your duffel and let’s get out o’ here.”
“I suppose you’ve been in the navy a good while,” said Dave.
“Me? I joined a year an’ a half ago. ’Bout the time the Huns sunk the
_Sussex_. That got my goat, an’ I figured we’d be goin’ into it pretty
quick after that.”
“Have you been across yet?”
“No; this is my first sea duty, same as you. An’ say, kid, it’s goin’
to be some voyage, take it from Pete!”
“Is it? Why?”
“Why? ’Cause we’re goin’ over, that’s why!”
“Over! You mean this boat’s going to France?”
“Yeah, France or Paris or some place like that. They ain’t tellin’ it,
but we know. We seen ’em load supplies, kid.”
“Why, that’s fine, isn’t it?” exclaimed Dave, eagerly. “But――but isn’t
she awfully small to make the trip alone?”
“She won’t be alone. But she is small, all right, an’ that’s why I’m
tellin’ you it’ll be some trip. Take it from Pete, kid, food ain’t
goin’ to be of no interest to a lot of us guys for a long time!”
“You mean we’ll be seasick?” said the other thoughtfully. “I suppose I
shall. I’ve never been to sea much. I’ve sailed a boat all my life――”
“All that time!” marveled Pete, his blue eyes atwinkle.
Dave laughed. “Well, for five or six years, then, I reckon. But I’ve
never been very far from land.”
“Nor me. An’ I’m tellin’ you straight that I ain’t cheerin’ much for
it, either. Sometimes I wish I was back on my old job. It had its ups
and downs, but it was pretty steady at that.”
“What did you do?” Dave inquired.
“Run an elevator,” chuckled Pete. “Down to the Endicott Building, on
Broad street, in little old New York. That’s my home, New York. I was
born there, an’ wasn’t never out of it till I signed up with Uncle Sam.
Chuck Morgan called me a Bowery tough, an’ that’s what I am, I guess.
Anyway, I was till one day a guy in a silk hat tried to get himself run
over by a truck, an’ I snatched him out of it. He slipped me a ten, an’
asked did I want a job. I didn’t――much――but I didn’t want to hurt his
feelin’s, an’ so I told him yes. An’ first thing I knew I was workin’
steady liftin’ an elevator up with a rope. But it wasn’t much of a life
for a husky guy like me. So when the war came along I ducked.”
“And do you like being in the navy?” asked Dave.
“Sure! It’s a great life. There ain’t nothin’ to do but work. Trouble
is, though, there ain’t been no scrappin’. I been scrappin’ all my
life, and I sort o’ miss it. But I guess it’s comin’, all right, now.
Those Germans ain’t been doin’ a thing but askin’ for a wallop!”
“And they’re going to get it,” said Dave, grimly.
“There’s the truth, take it from Pete! Now, what’s your story?”
“I reckon I haven’t any,” replied Dave, smiling. “I’m here because I’ve
always wanted to be in the navy, and because――well, a fellow feels as
if he had to do something after the way the Germans have been going on.
Of course, I couldn’t get in until I was seventeen, and I had hard work
getting my mother to consent. There isn’t any one but me at home now,
you see. Dad’s been dead some time, and my sister’s married and living
in California. But after mother saw how much I wanted to get into this
she came around. The day I was seventeen I went up to Baltimore and
enlisted. They sent me to Newport, and I was there three months. Then I
went home on liberty for a week, and now here I am.”
“Guess it’ll be sort o’ lonely for your ma, won’t it?” reflected Pete.
“Say, if I had a ma I wouldn’t be leavin’ her to go to no war, take it
from Pete.”
“Oh, yes, I reckon you would. You’d go into this one, just as I did.
It will be lonely for mother, I know――but I just had to do it! She was
perfectly fine about it when she realized how I felt. Mothers are kind
of wonderful folks, aren’t they?”
“I guess so.” Pete scowled. “I never had any. Not that I knows of. Oh,
well, that’s all right, too. There ain’t no one to worry about me if I
get my fool head blown off. Guess you an’ me’d better go topside. This
tub’s due to pull out pretty soon, I’m thinkin’.”