HITTING CLOSE TO THE SALT TRAIL
"GIVE us a rocket signal if you need help," Dave signalled the attendant
mine-sweeper.
Then to the officer of the watch:
"Give us full speed, and we'll run down to see if the 'Reed' has work
enough for two of our kind."
A little further south he signalled same orders to the patrol boat that
he had given to the mine-sweeper.
Then the "Grigsby" rushed onward as if she scented something of which she
did not wish her crew to be deprived.
As soon as Darrin discovered that Dalzell was using his searchlight he
ordered the "Grigsby's" also to be used. Over the waters the bar of light
swept until it picked up a sight that made the officers on the bridge
gasp for sheer astonishment.
Two submarines, some five hundred yards apart, lay on the surface of the
sea.
Strangest part of all, neither craft was serving its guns. Why they
neither fought nor dived puzzled the "Grigsby's" officers until the
"Reed's" guns ceased firing and her blinkers signalled to Dave:
"Don't fire on them unless I do. They're helpless."
The "Reed," first to approach the submarines, steamed in between them.
Then as the "Grigsby" raced up, she received this message from Dalzell:
"Wish you would take charge of the nearer submarine. I'll handle the
other."
On both enemy craft, as seen under the searchlight, the German crews had
come out on deck. It was clear that they wished to surrender without
further loss of life.
So Dave ordered a launch cleared away, with a prize crew armed to the
teeth, Ensign Andrews in command.
"You men get as far forward as possible," Andrews shouted to the huddled
enemy. "Be careful not to have any weapons about you. We'll accept you as
prisoners of war, but any attempt at treachery will be sternly punished!"
As he spoke the ensign rested one hand on the barrel of a machine gun in
the launch's bow. Instantly the Germans began to move forward, only their
four officers remaining near the conning tower.
"Stand by to catch a line and make fast," called the ensign, as the
launch, under headway, lay in close.
Though they plainly understood, not one of the German officers made a
move to catch a rope. Instead, one of them called to the huddled seamen,
two of whom came back to take the line.
Making fast, Andrews stepped aboard, followed by some of his armed crew.
"You are the only officers of this craft?" Andrews demanded.
"Yes," sullenly replied the ober-lieutenant.
"Be good enough to hold up your hands while we search you."
Though their eyes flashed their rage, the German officers raised their
hands while a petty officer "frisked" them one after the other.
"None of them armed, sir," was the report.
"Then into the launch with them. Next, order the seamen and
engine-tenders aft and search them. The launch will carry about twenty
prisoners on the first trip."
Soon the score of prisoners had been delivered aboard the "Grigsby." A
second lot was sent over, after which Andrews decided that he could take
charge of the remainder on their own craft. He now had force enough with
him to keep this unarmed remainder in subjection.
Heading an armed party the ensign went below in the submarine to make an
inspection. He had already noted a shell-hole through the hull which had
made it impossible for this submarine to dive without drowning the crew.
But he found other matters to interest him. This was a mine-layer craft,
and at the present moment she had more than twenty mines on board.
One of Dalzell's junior officers, searching the other submarine, found
her to be a mine-layer, too, but with only two mines on board. This
second craft, also, had been pierced through the hull in such fashion
that there had been no chance for her to escape by submerging.
On each craft forward a crane had been set up, and still stood. Dan
Dalzell's report, when made, shed a good deal of light on German methods.
The "Reed" had been barely drifting when two submarines had come up
within two miles of the destroyer. It was the noise of erecting the
cranes that had warned Dalzell's watch officer of their presence there on
the dark sea.
Suddenly, through night glasses, Dan, who had been called to the bridge,
discovered what was taking place. On the quiet waters of this night the
two craft had managed to get near enough to each other to attempt to
transfer mines from one to the other.
Then it was that the "Reed" had opened fire with her guns, had turned on
her searchlight and had rushed in.
As soon as the German commanders found their boats punctured into
helplessness they had signalled their surrender.
"But I was glad indeed when I saw you bearing down on us," Dan announced,
when he visited his chum a little later. "The enemy had surrendered, but
I know enough of German treachery to realize that they might let me drive
in close and then try to torpedo me. I needn't have worried, but of
course I could not afford to take chances."
Sending for Boatswain's Mate Runkle, Dave inquired:
"Do you speak German?"
"I know about six words, sir; not as many as eight."
"Then you are the man for the job, Runkle. Go down among the prisoners
that have been sent on board, the seamen, I mean, not the officers. Act
as though you were there on duty, but not very busy. Use your six words
of German and make English do for the rest. The German sailors won't
understand you, unless some of them speak English. That will be all the
better, for as soon as you discover that some of the men don't know what
you are saying you will be able to judge which of those who speak no
English are the most stupid, or the most likely to talk and tell us the
truth. Spot three or four of these stupid ones, and then bring one of
them here to the chart-room."
"Now, what on earth does the 'Old Man' want?" wondered Runkle, as he
started away on this errand. "But never mind. Even if I can't guess what
he wants it's a cinch that he knows. The stupidest one, eh? I wonder why
any Fritz wouldn't do, then!"
Runkle found his man within five minutes, detached him from the other
prisoners, and led him to the chart-room. Darrin tried his own German on
the fellow, asking:
"Your craft had just arrived from the base port?"
The man stared, then slowly nodded.
"How many mines did you have on board when you left the base port?"
"Thirty, I heard."
"You planted some on the way?"
"A few, so I heard."
"Most of the mines you were to deliver here tonight?"
"Yes."
"How many trips a week has your craft been making between here and the
base port?"
"Usually about four."
"Did you always deliver, here, to the same mine-layer?"
"No; that was as it happened. Sometimes to one boat, sometimes to
another."
"How many mines could your craft carry?"
"Thirty."
As this agreed with the information supplied by Ensign Andrews, Dave
believed that the seaman was telling the truth.
"Did your craft always come to these same waters to deliver mines to
mine-layers?"
"Always, since I have been aboard, to some one of the shoals in this
stretch of them," replied the sailor.
"Do you know how many mine-layers wait over here on the English side to
have mines delivered to them?"
"No, but they are not so many."
"A few, supplied four times a week, can plant a lot of mines," quizzed
Darrin.
"Oh, yes."
"And the craft you were aboard was one of the smaller ones that brought
cargoes of mines. Your people have some that carry much larger numbers of
mines?"
"Yes, and the larger boats that bring mines over to the real mine-layers
travel faster under water than our boat did."
"So that these larger boats can make at least five round trips a week?"
Dave asked.
"Oh, yes."
"You have not told me the name of your base port," Darrin went on.
"And I don't intend to," retorted the seaman. "You are asking me too
many questions. I should not have said as much as I did, and I shall not
answer any more questions."
"You do not need to," Dave assured him. "I already know the answers to a
lot of questions that I might have asked you. But you look like a
reasonable fellow, and also like a fellow fond of some of the good things
of life. Had I found you more ready to talk I might have arranged for you
to have a pleasanter time in the English prison than your mates will
have."
"A pleasanter time until the hangman called for us?" demanded the German,
a cunning look coming into his eyes.
"The hangman?" Darrin repeated.
"Oh, yes! I know! We all know. The English hang the crews of German
submarines. Our officers have told us all about it. You are wrong, too,
to hang us, for it is the knowledge that the English will hang us that
makes us fight more desperately when we are attacked."
"But the English will not hang you. You and your mates will be treated as
prisoners of war," Darrin assured him. "You will be well fed. You will
have some amusements. When spring comes you will have gardens to work in
and the flowers or vegetables that you raise will belong to you. It is a
stupid lie to tell you that the English hang you all. You will soon be on
shore, and in an English prison camp, and then you will know that you
have been lied to. You will enjoy finding yourself on shore, for you were
not often allowed to go ashore when you got back from these trips to take
on your next mine cargo at--"
It was a simple trap, but as Darrin paused, the seaman replied:
"No, we were not often allowed ashore in ----," naming the port.
The port that the seaman mentioned was the one Darrin had been trying to
get him to name. The German had unwittingly allowed himself to name the
base port from which the mines were shipped. As soon as the German
realized his blunder he used some bad language.
"That is all," said Dave Darrin. "You may go back to your mates, and by
daylight you will know that an English military prison is not at all a
bad place."