RUMOURS OF WAR
"ONE moment, sir," said Gerald as he accompanied the captain across
the fo'c'sle, where a party of men were undergoing musketry exercise.
"What is the meaning of that cylinder close to the muzzles of the
rifles?"
"It's a silencer--the Lucas silencer, to be exact. I took a fancy to
the device and acquired the patent. Mr. Ball, bring me one of those
rifles, please."
The gunner brought one of the rifles for inspection. As Gerald had
already noted it differed little from the Lee-Enfield type.
"The magazine takes a clip of ten rounds of .202 ammunition,"
announced Captain Brookes, as he pulled out the "cut-off" and thrust
a cartridge into the chamber. "Now, listen."
Bringing the rifle to his shoulder the captain pressed the trigger.
Beyond the slight recoil and a faint hiss there was nothing to
indicate that the weapon had been discharged, until the still-smoking
cartridge-case was ejected.
"I am applying this principle to all our ordnance, from the 6in. down
to the revolver. It means a great moral advantage to be in a position
to launch a hail of charged shells with a complete absence of sound,"
continued the captain, as he handed back the weapon. "Now we
will----"
"Sail-ho!" came a hail from the bridge.
"Where away?" demanded the captain, in stentorian tones.
"Dead ahead, sir."
"That's the _Puma_, I'll be bound. Mr. Tregarthen, we must postpone
the remainder of our inspection for awhile. In the meantime you'll
find Mr. Stockton in your cabin. You may inform him that he has the
run of the ship, with the exception, of course, of the
conning-tower."
So saying, Captain Brookes hurried off to the bridge, the speed of
the _Olive Branch_ was reduced to less than twenty knots, and
preparations were begun for opening communications with the _Puma_,
which was already within five miles when Tregarthen went below to
rejoin his companion.
"It's settled, Jack; you are to stay aboard the _Olive Branch_," he
exclaimed.
"Yes, I know, thanks to you. They've told me that I'm to share your
cabin."
"How did you know that?" asked Gerald. "Captain Brookes agreed to my
proposal, and ever since then he has not been out of my sight."
"I don't know; I'm here, and there's an end of it as far as I am
concerned," replied Jack, philosophically.
"Well, let's go on deck. We've sighted some vessel or the other."
"What's the game--piracy?" asked Stockton, suspiciously.
"I don't think so. But we're easing down, so look sharp."
Together the two chums gained the quarterdeck, the sentry on the half
deck coming to the salute as Tregarthen passed. Here, again, Gerald
was puzzled, for the man evidently was aware that the young
lieutenant was no longer under arrest but had nominally become an
officer of the ship.
The _Olive Branch_ and the _Puma_ lay side by side at about a cable's
length apart. There was a total absence of wind, and the sea was as
smooth as glass, while overhead the sun beat fiercely down upon the
mirror-like surface of the ocean.
On the _Olive Branch_ the bo'sun's mate had piped "Clear lower deck,"
and already the somewhat meagre crew had mustered on the upper deck,
where warps and hawsers were being laid out with the evident
intention of making fast to the other vessel.
The _Puma_ was a tramp steamer of about 6,000 tons, with two stumpy
masts, a black funnel, and towering wall sides that had been but
partially painted, for a considerable portion of her hull still
showed the priming coat of red lead. From an ensign staff over her
taffrail the stars and stripes hung motionless in the sultry air. The
_Olive Branch_ flew no colours.
"I don't think it's piracy this time," remarked Jack. "The men are
not armed."
"They seem a well set up lot," said Gerald. "I wonder where they were
picked up. Short service naval men and Royal Naval Reserve seamen in
all probability."
Tregarthen knew a sailor when he saw one, and his observations were
correct. The men had for the most part discarded their No. I suits of
blue serge, and were dressed in serviceable white canvas. With the
utmost alertness and intelligence they executed their orders, which
were given with a noticeable lack of bawling and shouting.
Smartly the _Olive Branch_ was manoeuvred alongside the _Puma_, large
fenders protecting the two vessels from the slight rolling as the
latter's derricks were set to work.
In less than two hours eight 6in. guns, each weighing nearly seven
tons, were transferred from the hold of the tramp to the deck of the
cruiser, besides several smaller quick-firers and a quantity of cases
and empty shells. Why the projectiles were shipped apart from their
cartridges Tregarthen could not understand, though he resolved to
make inquiries at the earliest opportunity.
The work of transhipping the ordnance having been completed, the
skipper, a typical New Englander, came aboard the _Olive Branch_,
armed with a sheaf of documents. For half an hour he remained below
in the company of Captain Brookes, and on returning to his own ship
the hawsers were cast off.
Meanwhile Tregarthen noticed that the cruiser's ensign had been
hoisted--a device similar to that worn on the seamen's sleeves,
evidently representing an olive branch in green on a white field.
As the two vessels parted company, the cruiser making off at a
decorous seventeen knots, there was a mutual dipping of ensigns, and
a quarter of an hour later the _Puma_ was hull down to the nor-west.
For the rest of that day all hands were kept busy in mounting the
principal armament. The work proceeded with marvellous rapidity,
testifying to the splendid mechanical appliances at their command.
Hitherto unnoticed by the sub-lieutenant a powerful crane was
cunningly concealed in the wake of each turret, so that when not in
use one of the faces of the apparatus lay flush with the deck. By
actuating a lever an enormous mass of metal rose to a vertical
position, the arm commanding a radius of 20ft., while in the place of
a hook was a powerful electromagnet. The top of the hood of each
turret was composed of plates of 4in. steel, each section being
temporarily held by metal bolts. Round swung the crane, the current
was switched on, and plate after plate was whipped off till the
turret was ready to receive its pair of guns. These were then easily
lowered upon the mountings that were waiting to receive them, and the
roof of the turret was next replaced, men setting to work with
electric welding machines to permanently seal the armoured slabs.
The work was still in progress when dinner in the ward-room was
announced, and before this function Gerald and Jack were introduced
to the other officers of the ship by Captain Brookes.
There were fifteen occupants of the wardroom, all told. Some of the
officers Gerald had met before, namely, White, the surgeon, and
Christopher Weeks, the young lieutenant who had escorted him to the
captain's quarters. Taken together the officers of the _Olive Branch_
gave Tregarthen the impression that they were a genial,
happy-go-lucky class. They spoke freely on general topics, but
studiously avoided "shop," nor did they go into details concerning
their past careers.
There was one exception, however.
The scientist, Taylor, who had charge of the laboratory and
shell-filling room, was ever ready to let his tongue wag
unrestrainedly in spite of the invariable snubbing he received from
his messmates.
After dinner Gerald and Jack went on deck. Here strong arc lamps
enabled the crew to continue their labours, for Captain Brookes was
evidently in a hurry to get the work completed; he was here, there,
and everywhere, testing circuits, examining the riveted plates,
calling attention to this and that defect, and, in fact, an example
of unflagging energy.
"What is this extraordinary hurry for, Mr. Sinclair?" asked
Tregarthen of the navigating lieutenant, who had just been relieved
on the bridge.
"Don't you know? Hasn't the captain told you the news? We've our
first real business in hand. A wireless was received this afternoon
that war is to be declared between two South American Republics
within a few days. This is where we step in."
"How do they manage the wireless business, I should like to know,"
remarked Stockton, as the two friends gained the seclusion of their
cabin.
"Really, I'm not surprised at anything in this ship," replied Gerald.
"How is it going to end? The _Olive Branch_ cannot keep the sea
indefinitely. She must take in stores, have her hull coated in dry
dock, and undergo a periodical refit. It all costs money, and where
does the money come from? Who is this Captain Brookes? A
millionaire--a fanatic--or what?"
"I suppose---- Hallo, who's there? Come in." A timid knock at the
door had interrupted Jack Stockton's sentence.
A fresh-complexioned round-faced little man edged cautiously into the
cabin, and carefully closed the door behind him. It was Taylor, the
scientist.
"Well, Mr. Taylor, what can we do for you?" demanded Gerald.
"Hush, sir, not so loud, I pray of you," replied the little man,
anxiously, his closely cut greyish hair bristling in his excitement.
"My name is Schneider, not Taylor.
[Illustration: "Look here, Mr. Schneider, you've come to the wrong box
with your sneaking complaints. So clear out!"]
"I am a professor of languages and sciences. You came from Poole, is
it not? Zen perhaps you are acquainted with Colonel Mortebeque? I was
at one time tutor to his son----"
"Look here, Mr. Schneider," broke in Tregarthen, impatiently. "I
don't know Colonel What's-his-name, nor do I want to hear your
personal history. Come to the point--what do you want with us?"
"Alas!" groaned the professor with a shudder and a curious grimace.
"I have been trapped; brought on ze voyage under false
representations. It was to be scientist zat I was brought, but ze
Captain Brookes he would me make fill ze shells in ze laboratories. I
like it not. He is pirate."
"Who says he is a pirate?" asked Gerald sternly.
"Me, I will not say it. But zen, he is a--a what you call it. Ah! I
know--a wizard. You two are also in peril. Will you ask ze captain to
let you go on land at ze first port we touch, and take me wit you?
Zen we run away and be safe."
"Look here, Mr. Schneider, you've come to the wrong box. If you've
any complaint, why not lay it before the captain himself? If as you
say the captain is a wizard he might be listening now to what you are
saying. You understand? Well, then, clear out."
"A bright specimen of a sneaking waster," remarked Jack, as the cabin
door closed on the retreating figure of the professor. "I wonder if
there's any truth in his tale, eh?"
"I don't think the skipper will go to that extent," replied Gerald;
as he prepared to turn in. "Anyway, we're here, so let's make the
best of things. By George! old chap, to tell the truth, I'm jolly
glad we came."
[Illustration: chapter VIII]