SECRET ENEMIES ABOARD
“One thing sure,” Jack went on to say positively: “That girl is a
true-blue Ally. She told me so, and you couldn’t look in her eyes and
believe she could deceive. If she’s acting a part at all, under orders,
Tom, take it from me she hates her job like everything.”
Tom seemed inclined to agree with his chum, though he had seen very
little of Bessie Gleason.
“Well, when she quizzed me, you know, Tom, about my being afraid when
up in the clouds, of course I felt that I had to explain that so far
I hadn’t felt a grain of fear, only delight, when spinning along at
eighty miles an hour in an airplane. Yes, I told her a few things about
what we hoped to do. But then anybody who knows we’re bound for a
French aviation school could understand all that.”
Jack evinced a sudden inclination to leave the company of his chum.
“Excuse me now, will you, Tom?” he observed, with a smirk; “but I’m
going on the hurricane-deck to have a little promenade with Bessie.
She asked me to meet her up there around two this afternoon; in fact
slipped me a little note when leaving the dining-saloon this noon. I
rather think she has got something special she wants to say to me. And,
Tom, if it’s of any importance, mind, I’ll let you know about it.”
“Wish you would,” the other flashed after him as he hastened away; and
from the sober expression on his face it could be seen that Tom felt an
interest much deeper than mere passing curiosity in the matter.
Some time afterwards he was sitting in his deck chair, warmly wrapped
in his Scotch plaid steamer rug when he saw Jack hurriedly approaching.
Tom understood that his chum must have some news worth while to tell
him, if the look on his face counted for anything.
Before throwing himself down in his own chair, Jack looked cautiously
in both directions. It chanced that there were few passengers abroad
just then. A bundled-up figure dozed in a chair at some little distance
forward; and further aft a woman who was going over as a Red Cross
nurse at the front, was sitting reading a magazine.
“I imagine you’ve struck something worth while, old fellow,” suggested
Tom.
“Well, I have,” was the reply, in a comparatively low tone. “Tom, after
all I guess our suspicions were pretty near the mark.”
“About Carl Potzfeldt do you mean?” demanded Tom instantly.
“He knows about your father and his invention that threatens to
revolutionize aerial warfare and give the side possessing it a vast
advantage in the war,” Jack hastened to say breathlessly.
“Well, I’m not much surprised. I seemed to feel he was German at heart,
even if he does wear a little flag emblem in his buttonhole and is
continually boasting of his loyalty. Did Bessie tell you this, Jack?”
“She did. The poor little thing wilted and cried when she confessed
that her guardian had made her try to learn all about us--what we were
going over to France for, and even if we expected to make some sort of
bargain that would mean a fortune for your father.”
Tom ground his teeth in sudden rage.
“Just like some of those mercenary Germans!” he muttered. “They can
think only of bargain and sale. Even now they firmly believe my father
means to get the biggest price he can from some Government. They think
Adolph Tuessig made a blunder in not bidding high enough for the secret
of the stabilizer.”
“And that you are being sent across to France with the design of
the invention hidden in your luggage, so as to make a bargain with
the Allies for handing it over to them. I guess they don’t know the
patriotism of your father, Tom.”
“I should say not!” and Tom’s face took on a tender expression.
“It was terrible to see that poor girl crying as she tried to tell me
how she hated to do as her guardian forced her,” Jack continued, with a
look of concern on his young face that spoke well for his sympathetic
heart.
“Then that was why she wanted to see you, was it?” asked Tom, “and why
she slipped you that note at dinner-time?”
“Just what it is was. She said Mr. Potzfeldt had ordered her to keep
trying to find out all about our mission to France. More than that, she
was to manage in some way to turn the conversation when with you around
to your father, whose name as an inventor is widely known. She was to
ask questions about his work, and in every way possible try to discover
whether it was in his interests you were not really heading for France.”
Tom was startled.
“Well, one thing good about it,” he hastened to say. “From now on we
know where this Carl Potzfeldt stands. He may pose as a loyal American
citizen, but deep down in his heart he is for the Kaiser. Whether he is
a spy, as that Adolph Tuessig surely is, we can’t be positive; but I
wouldn’t trust him a minute.”
“Tom, the girl was almost broken hearted. She isn’t the kind to fancy
playing a double part, and deceiving other people. Any one must see her
eyes are as frank and truthful as can be.”
“Did she tell you anything about her guardian, Jack--whether he might
really be a naturalized citizen of Uncle Sam, or just sailing under
false colors and a borrowed passport?”
“I wanted to ask her that, but say, I didn’t have the nerve, she seemed
to feel so unhappy. Then, as if she couldn’t stand it any longer, she
rushed away from me and descended to the other deck. When I followed
she had disappeared from view, and I suppose had sought refuge in her
stateroom, for she has one, you know, shared by that Red Cross nurse
over yonder.”
“Now, I’ve got something to tell you that may be of interest,” remarked
Tom, in turn. “You remember that we marked the stateroom occupied
by that mysterious sick passenger who has never come on deck in the
daytime since boarding the boat?”
“Yes,” Jack instantly snapped, “it was Number Seventy-seven, for I made
a mental note of it. And a dozen times I’ve passed out of my way just
to stare at the closed door, thinking how much I’d like to see what lay
on the other side, and if that man could really be your Adolph Tuessig.”
“Well, a little while ago, after you left me to go up and walk the
hurricane-deck with Bessie Gleason, I had occasion to go to our
stateroom for my binoculars, and who should I see coming out of Number
Seventy-seven but Potzfeldt!”
Jack uttered an exclamation of mingled surprise and delight.
“Good for you!” he ejaculated. “That settles it, I should say! The
pretended sick man is Adolph Tuessig all right; and he’s in thick with
this boastful naturalized American citizen who wears Old Glory in his
buttonhole and tells how much he wishes he were a younger man so he
could enlist under Uncle Sam. It makes me sick!”
“As they say in the story books, the plot thickens,” Tom continued.
“Somehow or other Adolph doesn’t seem to take much stock in our
crossing over to fly for the country we in America admire above all
others just now. He thinks all Yankees must be mercenary, and that I’m
carrying the completed design of father’s wonderful invention with me,
to sell it for a vast sum to the Allies.”
“Tom, after this you’ve got to be more careful than ever how you hang
over the side of the boat when dark sets in,” cautioned Jack. “It
would be easy enough for a strong and desperate man to throttle you,
search your person, and then chuck you overboard. Such men who could
remorselessly sink women and babies aboard the _Lusitania_ wouldn’t
hesitate about sacrificing one single life in the interest of the
Fatherland.”
“Oh, come, let’s quit this sort of talk for a while, Jack. It’s
beginning to wear on our minds too much. We’ll exercise all reasonable
caution, and they’ll find it a tough job to catch either of us napping.
I challenge you to a game of deck quoits. That ought to keep us busy
for an hour or so.”
Jack, nothing loth, laughingly accepted the bantering offer, and so
they were soon tossing the covered rings back and forth in the endeavor
to drop them one after another over the stake that represented the
goal. It was not a very exciting amusement, but sufficed to divert
their minds and keep them from worrying about the things they wished to
forget temporarily.
When the hour was up Jack declared he had had quite enough, and was so
far behind that there seemed no possible chance for him to catch up
that time.
“I’ll give you another turn to-morrow,” he told Tom. “That is, if
everything goes on well and we haven’t run afoul of one of those
slinkers with the torpedo tubes that are waiting for us to cross their
path. I’ll step down to our room, and get a fresh handkerchief. You see
I insisted on Bessie taking my other to dry her tears with, and, well,
she carried it away when she left me so suddenly.”
Jack walked away and Tom again sought his chair, and lay back to glance
across the heaving waters once more, although not in the expectation of
making a discovery.
The afternoon was almost done. With the approach of night it was
commencing to get chilly again, so that the youth was glad to tuck his
steamer rug about his legs as he reclined at his ease.
A few persons had commenced to walk briskly up and down the full length
of the promenade deck. This was the customary prelude to a meal, for
they were taking exercise in order to stir up a sharper appetite. Even
the ship’s doctor had a woman patient in tow, and was making her almost
run along by him, chatting at the same time to divert her mind.
Tom saw his chum advancing toward him again. As before Jack looked
bothered, so that the other immediately became interested. Remembering
what Jack had told him with reference to Bessie Gleason, he wondered
whether his comrade could have met the girl again by accident. This
might have happened on the companionway or down in one of the passages
leading to the various staterooms. And perhaps Jack had heard further
particulars concerning her plotting guardian’s desire that she should
coax the boys into confiding their secret to her ears.
Jack dropped down into his seat with a grunt, after that cautious look
around which had become a part of his nature lately. Then Tom heard him
say grumblingly:
“After all they were too smart for us, Tom, for they’ve been searching
your luggage while we played like a couple of sillies at deck quoits!”