THE PRIZE
A slight haze hung over the water, so that sea and sky were merged in a
film of brooding grey. Through this, looking strangely flimsy and unreal
by reason of the mist, could be seen a large cargo-steamer of about five
thousand tons. She was steaming in the opposite direction to the _Hawk_
at something like ten knots, and from her triatic stay fluttered a hoist
of signal-flags indicating the question: "What ship are you?"
"What shall I answer, sir?" inquired Mr. Dykes of Calamity.
"'British steamer _Hawk_. Singapore for London.'"
The signal was hoisted and the reply came: "British steamer _Ann_, Rio
for Hongkong." At the same time the red ensign was hoisted at the stern.
"You say that when you first saw her she was flying the German flag?"
Calamity inquired of Mr. Dykes.
"Yes, sir. I think she must have just passed another German ship, for
the ensign was being hauled down when I sighted her."
"H'm, she was German a few minutes ago; now she's British. Signal her to
stop, Mr. Dykes."
The signal was duly hoisted, but the steamer paid no attention and
proceeded on her course, while from her funnel arose a thick cloud of
black smoke, showing that the stokers were firing up. Although the
skipper of the _Ann_ might resent being called upon to stop by what
looked like another merchant vessel, this sudden attempt to accelerate
speed, coupled with an unusual freedom in the use of national flags, was
suspicious to say the least of it.
"Put a shot through her funnel, Mr. Dykes," said Calamity.
With his own hands, the mate sighted the quick-firer on the bridge and
then nodded to the boatswain, who was also chief gunner. Next moment a
sheet of flame leapt from the muzzle, there was a terrific roar, and a
shell struck, not the _Ann's_ funnel, but the supporting guys and passed
through a ventilating cowl above the engine-room. Despite this
unequivocal hint, the steamer did not stop, and the foam under her stern
showed that she was putting on speed.
"Aim for the chart-room and make a better shot of it," said Calamity.
Mr. Dykes, greatly chagrined at his first shot having gone wide of its
mark, again sighted the gun. Meanwhile the Captain was bringing round
the _Hawk_ in the arc of a circle to get her in the wake of the
retreating steamer.
Bang!
This time the mate had better luck, his second shot smashing through the
chart-room and completely wrecking it.
"That ought to bring them to reason," he remarked complacently.
It did. Before the thin veil of smoke had drifted away a man was seen on
the _Ann's_ stern, frantically calling up the _Hawk_ in the semaphore
code. A man on the privateer's bridge answered and then the other
started to flap his flags about.
"Don't fire, stopping," read the message.
The foam under the stranger's stern was subsiding and an arrow of white
steam shot into the air out of her exhaust-pipe. Already the distance
between the two vessels was rapidly diminishing and soon they were
within hailing distance. The skipper of the _Ann_ was the first to avail
himself of this, for, making a funnel of his hands, he demanded to know
what the sanguinary blazes was meant by this hold-up.
"I demand to see your papers," bellowed Calamity.
The other appeared to execute a sort of complicated war-dance on the
bridge, wildly waving his clenched fists above his head. No words came
for a second or more, and then a burst of raw, pungent, and
kaleidoscopic profanity hurtled across the intervening space, evoking by
its wonderful variety the admiration even of the _Hawk's_ crew.
"Blimey!" murmured Smith in an awed tone, "it's a treat to 'ear a bloke
handle cuss-words like that."
Even Mr. Dykes, who rather prided himself on his mastery of the
refreshing art of invective, was moved to wonder. Indeed, he made a
mental note of several vituperative combinations whose force and
originality impressed him.
When, at last, the master of the _Ann_ paused, presumably for want of
breath, the crew of the _Hawk_ looked expectantly towards Calamity.
Would he be able to rise to the occasion and wither his opponent by a
scorching blast of even deadlier profanity, or would he humiliate them
by using the commonplace swear-words of everyday life? He did neither.
"I'm going to board you!" he shouted. "Make one attempt to hinder me and
you go to the bottom."
His words, backed by the guns which were trained on the _Ann_, brought
an immediate reply:
"Come aboard if you must, but for the love of God don't sink me."
"Fizzled out like a damp squib," muttered Smith.
"I guess he's played his long suit," remarked the mate, who also felt
disappointed at the ignoble collapse of the _Ann's_ skipper after such
brilliant promise.
A boat was quickly lowered from the _Hawk_, and the Captain, before
getting into it, gave Mr. Dykes certain instructions.
"And remember," he added, "if you see any sign of trickery put a shot
under her water-line amidships."
"Very good, sir," answered the mate.
A few minutes afterwards Calamity had reached the deck of the _Ann_,
where he was met by the Captain and the first mate.
"I demand an explanation of this outrage!" blustered the former. "Are
you aware that you are committing piracy? that----"
Calamity cut him short.
"I know perfectly well what I'm doing, or I shouldn't be here. Your
papers, Captain."
"By what right do you ask for my papers?" demanded the other, who showed
signs of again becoming truculent.
"That," answered Calamity shortly, pointing to the _Hawk's_ guns.
"This is outrageous, and I shall----"
"Your papers, Captain," interrupted Calamity peremptorily.
There was something in his voice which made the _Ann's_ skipper realise
that argument was not only useless, but probably dangerous as well. He
shrugged his shoulders and led the way to his cabin, where he invited
Calamity to sit down. Then he unlocked a drawer and took from it a metal
deed-box which he placed on the table.
"Where the devil are the keys?" he muttered, and, stooping over the box,
began to fumble in his pockets.
Suddenly stepping back, he raised his head, and, as he did so, gave a
sharp exclamation of mingled rage and fear. He was staring right into
the barrel of a nasty-looking automatic pistol which Calamity was
pointing directly at him.
"I've seen that game played before," said Calamity with a quiet smile.
"Hand me your pistol; butt first, please."
And the discomfited skipper of the _Ann_ reluctantly handed over a fully
loaded revolver, which he had been in the act of drawing from his pocket
when he chanced to look down the barrel of the automatic pistol.
"Thanks," said Calamity as he took it. "Now for those papers, if you'll
be so kind."
Without a word, the other unlocked the box and handed over a bundle of
documents. Calamity glanced over them hastily and then smiled.
"Your other papers, Captain," he said.
"Other papers! What other papers d'you mean? They're all there."
"I think not. If you wish to avoid trouble, you will fetch out your
alternative papers at once. You didn't hoist the German ensign without
having something to justify it."
"I swear that----"
"Don't," broke in Calamity. "I can do all the swearing I want for
myself."
"But I can't give you what I haven't got!"
Calamity leant across the table till his face almost touched the
other's.
"The papers," he said in a low, menacing voice. "Understand me?"
The other did, apparently, for, with a muttered curse, he unlocked one
of the table drawers and took therefrom a second bundle of documents.
"Take them and be damned to you," he said, flinging them on the table.
Calamity picked up the papers, and, as he glanced at them there was a
look of grim satisfaction on his face.
"Will you be good enough to explain to me, Captain Noel, how it is that
you happen to have two different sets of papers?" he inquired. "The
first state that the _Ann_ is a British ship, owned by Masters and Ready
of Sunderland, and that she has cleared for Hongkong from Rio. The
second batch declare her to be a German vessel, cleared for Bangkok from
Bremen. They give the owner as----"
He stopped abruptly as he glanced again at the paper he was holding. A
look of incredulous astonishment appeared on his face, but it was almost
immediately succeeded by one of the keenest satisfaction.
"----Isaac Solomon of Singapore," he concluded.
The other made no answer, and for a moment or two Calamity regarded him
thoughtfully.
"It's a clever trick and how you managed to obtain these two sets of
papers I don't pretend to guess," he went on. "It may interest you,
however, to know that the esteemed Mr. Isaac Solomon is a dear--one
might almost say, expensive--friend of mine, and no doubt he will let me
into the secret later on. What is your cargo, Captain?"
"Sand ballast and Portland cement," growled the other.
"No doubt the cargo you took out was rather more interesting. But what's
this?" he added, holding up a document heavily sealed.
"I don't know."
"Still, it would be as well to find out," and without hesitation he
calmly broke the seals.
To the astonishment of them both, the document was absolutely blank; to
all appearances a virgin sheet of paper.
"H'm, this is strange," murmured Calamity. "It is not usual to enclose
and seal a blank sheet of paper with the ship's documents. Have you got
a candle?"
Captain Noel produced one from a shelf and lit it. He seemed as eager to
find out the meaning of this mysterious enclosure as Calamity himself.
The latter held the paper in front of the flame and, as he had expected,
writing began to appear. When the whole communication became legible he
spread the document out on the table and commenced to read.
It was, in effect, a letter from a German official to Mr. Isaac Solomon
of Singapore, informing him that his last cargo had reached its first
destination, a neutral port, without mishap. This was followed by some
very valuable advice concerning the manner in which another
cargo--referred to as "Eastern merchandise"--might be delivered at the
same port. There were also other matters of even greater interest, but
Calamity decided to study these at a more convenient time.
"I have only one more question to ask you, Captain," he said. "What was
the exact nature of this 'Eastern merchandise'?"
"Copper and nickel," answered the other.
"A very profitable cargo, I should imagine; yet not as profitable as
this one little piece of paper should prove to me--eh, Captain Noel?"
"I'll take my oath I knew nothing of this," answered the latter eagerly.
"You knew about the cargo, at any rate. However, that's a matter which
doesn't concern me. I shall hand you back your German clearance papers,
but the English ones, together with this interesting little document, I
shall keep."
"You--you're going to keep the English papers?" faltered the other.
"Yes."
"But, good God, man, I shall be captured! I can't reach a port with
German papers. I'm at the mercy of the first British cruiser I meet!"
"Exactly. And dear Isaac Solomon, bless his gentle heart, will have his
ship confiscated. Still, I'll wager he'd sooner the authorities took his
ship than this piece of paper."
Calamity rose to his feet, and, leaving the German papers on the table,
put the others in his pocket.
"I'll wish you good-day, Captain Noel," he said. "I may capture a few
prizes during my cruise, but I can never hope to get another like this.
If you should meet Mr. Solomon during the next week or so kindly
remember me to him. Captain Calamity; he'll not have forgotten the
name."
He left the steamer, and, returning to the _Hawk_, told Mr. Dykes to
continue the original course.
"Very good, sir," answered the mate. "I suppose," he added, "there
weren't nothin' worth freezin' on to aboard that packet?"
Calamity made no answer, and, going to his cabin, locked himself in.
Meanwhile, to the surprise and disappointment of the crew, the _Ann_ was
permitted to proceed on her way and the _Hawk_ resumed her course.
"Don't savee what it means, don't you?" Jasper Skelt was saying in the
foc'sle. "It means this, my jolly sailor-boys. The skipper's helped
himself to the money-chest on that blooming barge and he's going to
stick to it. Yes, my festive deck-wallopers, all the prize-money and
plunder that comes your way you'll be able to stick in a hollow tooth."
A low, angry murmur went up, and then a man, bolder than the rest, rose
to his feet.
"If I b'lieved you, Jas Skelt, I'd 'ave a go at that un'oly swine aft,
and chance it."
"Aye, aye," growled some others. "We ain't goin' to be done out of our
rights."
"Then you stand by me," answered Skelt, "and I'll see that you get 'em."
"We'll stand by you, mate," said the first speaker. "And, what's more,
we'll make you skipper of the _'Awk_. Ain't that so?" he added, turning
to the others.
There was a low murmur of approval.