A NEW MYSTERY PEEPS IN
"Get out of here, or you'll get something you don't want," roared an ugly
voice at the farther end of the cabin.
At sound of that voice Tom Reade started. He thrust his head in the open
doorway.
"Hullo, Evarts!" called the young chief engineer.
"Get out of here!" came the furious order.
"So you've openly joined the enemy, Evarts?" demanded Tom, as his eyes
fell upon the object that had first claimed Lieutenant Dick Prescott's
attention.
"You've no business here! Get out, or I'll shoot," cried Evarts,
defiantly.
"Don't be too quick on the shoot," warned the Blixton policeman, who still
had his own revolver in his hand. "This is a police party, and you're
under arrest. Start any shooting trouble, and the air will be full of it."
"Clear out, and I'll come outside and talk with you," proposed Evarts, for
it really was the discharged foreman.
"All right," nodded the policeman. "Gentlemen, let him step outside."
The others left the entrance to the cabin, As Evarts, his pistol now back
in his pocket, stepped sullenly outside, Harry Hazelton dropped back into
the doorway.
"Glad to meet you, Mr. Evarts," grinned the police officer, deftly slipping
handcuffs on the fellow's wrists.
"This is treachery!" stormed the prisoner. "I didn't surrender to you.
I only came out to talk with you."
"If you didn't surrender, then excuse me, and go ahead and put up a fight,"
laughed the policeman, handily removing Evarts's revolver from a hip
pocket.
"Now, look in here, Tom," urged Dick. "Do you see what caught my eye?"
Prescott pointed to a sharp-nosed cylinder, some eight feet long. Just as
it lay the propeller at the other end was invisible to one at the doorway
of the cabin.
"It's a home-made imitation of a Whitehead torpedo," Lieutenant Dick went
on, in explanation. "If it proves to be charged with explosives then the
mere having of it aboard this sloop will prove embarrassing to these two
prisoners to explain in court. If it isn't loaded, that will be almost as
bad, as such a torpedo can be rather easily loaded, and then set in
operation by clock-work machinery that will control the propeller."
"Young man, you seem to think you know a good deal about torpedoes,"
sneered Evarts.
"He ought to," Harry retorted quietly. "He's a West Point man and an army
officer. Therefore, he's a specialist in some kinds of explosives."
Evarts's face turned somewhat paler at this information of having an army
officer on hand as a witness.
"Do you call me a prisoner, too?" asked the man at the tiller uneasily.
"Something like it, I guess," nodded Dick.
"Say, but that's a pretty rank deal against an honest man," protested the
skipper hoarsely. "I hired this boat out to that man, the one you call
Evarts, but I didn't know what he was up to."
"You didn't know that torpedoes are used for wicked work either, eh?"
pressed Lieutenant Dick.
"I'll swear that I didn't know what it was that he brought on board," cried
the skipper. "Evarts said it was a new device for killing fish at
wholesale."
"You may be telling the truth," Tom broke in.
"I am," declared the skipper eagerly.
"Then explain it to the court," Reade continued. "If you can prove to a
judge and a jury that you're an honest man, and always have been one, you
may get off on the charge that will be made against you."
"Then you don't believe me?" asked the skipper anxiously.
"It isn't for me to say," Tom replied crisply. "It's a job for a judge
and a jury."
"Then I'm to be a prisoner?"
"That's for the policeman here to say."
"You're a prisoner, my man," nodded the policeman. "Now, sail your boat
into the landing over yonder."
"Some one else will sail it," retorted the skipper, angrily, as he
abandoned his tiller.
"I'll take the tiller," Harry suggested, and did so. He hauled in the
sheet, brought the boat around and headed for the landing with the skill
of an old sailor.
"My man, since you don't want to sail the boat you'll have to go as a real
prisoner," announced the policeman. He produced a pair of handcuffs,
snapping them over the man's wrists.
In a short time Harry brought the sailboat up to the landing. The motor
boat had followed, but did not come all the way in. After the sail had
been lowered and made snug the party took up its way, on foot, to the
nearby town of Blixton.
Justice Sampson was found, and consented to open court immediately.
Officer Carnes brought his prisoners forward, stating the charge. The
young engineers and the army officer gave their testimony.
"The prisoners are held for trial, and bail fixed at five thousand dollars
in each case," decided the court.
The torpedo had been left on the sloop, in charge of a foreman. The
justice now ordered two officers to go back and bring over the torpedo,
which was to be held until a chemist could examine and take samples of
whatever explosive might be found inside.
As Dick was a United States Army officer, under orders to proceed to his
post within the next few days, the court reduced his testimony to writing,
and permitted Prescott to sign this under oath.
It had been a busy forenoon. Now it was time for luncheon, and the three
chums returned to the house to eat. In the afternoon they visited the
wall, remaining there until four o'clock. On their return to the house
Tom and Harry were greeted by Mr. Prenter, who had been waiting for them.
"I heard the news of last night's doings, and to-day's, and came right
down," explained the treasurer of the Melliston Company. "Reade, I'm
glad to be able to say that you appear to have brought us to the end of
the explosion troubles."
"Or else we're just starting with that trouble," Reade smiled wistfully.
"Mr. Prenter, I must say that there appears to be no end to the surprises
with which our enemies are capable of supplying us."
Tom then nodded to Dick to come forward and presented him to the treasurer.
"An army officer?" asked Mr. Prenter eagerly. "Then I'm doubly glad to
meet you, Mr. Prescott. You've seen the breakwater work? As an army
officer and an engineer what do you think of it?"
"It's great!" said Dick, though he added laughingly: "Reade and Hazelton
are such dear old friends of mine that any testimony in their favor is
likely to be charged to friendship."
"I'll believe what an army officer says, even in praise of his best
friends," smiled Mr. Prenter.
Foreman Johnson, who had been over in town, now came along. He halted
some distance away, beckoning to Reade.
"Mr. Reade," murmured the foreman, in an undertone, "over in Blixton I
just heard some news that I thought would interest you. Evarts is out on
bail."
"He furnished a five thousand surety?" queried Tom.
"Yes, sir, and who do you suppose went on his bond?"
"I can't imagine who the idiot is."
"The man who signed Evarts's bond," continued Foreman Johnson solemnly,
"was Mr. Bascomb, president of this company!"
"Whew!" muttered Tom aghast. "And that's all I've got to say on this
subject."
"I thought you'd like to know the news," remarked Johnson, "and so I came
to tell you."
"Please accept my thanks," Tom answered. Then, as the foreman passed
along, Reade went back to his friends.
"You seem staggered about something," remarked Mr. Prenter, eyeing him
keenly.
"Possibly I am," admitted Tom. "Evarts is out on bail."
"Now, what fool or rogue could have signed that fellow's bail bond?"
demanded Mr. Prenter in exasperation.
"Careful, sir!" warned Tom smilingly. "I've just been informed that the
bail bond was signed by Mr. Bascomb, president of the Melliston Company."
"Well, of all the crazy notions!" gasped Mr. Prenter. "But there! I won't
say more. Bascomb is a queer fellow in some things, but he's a good fellow
in lots of things, and a square, honest man in all things. If he signed
Evarts's bond, there was a reason, and not a dishonest one."
"But Evarts won't behave," predicted Harry dismally. "After all our
trouble we shall still have to remain on guard night and day."
"It'll be an airship next," laughed Dick Prescott.
"Unless Sambo Ebony comes forward once more, and finds out how to lay wires
by a new submarine route," retorted Tom Reade.
All the present company felt unaccountably gloomy just at this moment.
There could be no guessing what would occur next to hamper or destroy the
fruits of their hard labor.