The Radio Boys On Secret Service Duty Part 17

Bob glanced around the horizon.

"Not a sign of smoke indicating the Sub Chaser," he said, "unless it's that tiny film off there"-pointing to the southwest. "What position did the Sub Chaser give, Frank, and how far away was it?"

"That's the Chaser, all right," said Frank. "She was southwest from us and about fourteen knots away. Said she'd be up in an hour easy."

He pulled out his watch.

"Why," he declared, "it must have stopped. No"-listening-"it's going all right. But it certainly is hard to believe. Only twenty-five minutes since we left the cabin. I looked at my watch then. And less since I called the Chaser. It'll be some time before it comes up."

"Look," cried Jack pointing, "the trawler's belching a thicker smoke.

And, yes-she's beginning to steam away from us."

"I suppose," said Mr. Temple, "that Murphy is going to try to escape."

He called to Doctor Marley. "Doctor, you were with Murphy and helped him lower this boat. What did he say to you? Why did he help us at all? Did he tell you?"

The fat little man crouching at Frank's side, still in an att.i.tude of fright, looked up for the first time. As he saw the distance between the trawler and boat steadily widening an expression of relief lit up his face.

"Chinese frighten me dreadfully," he said, shuddering a little. "I'm so glad I escaped. And that man, 'Black George,' too. I have attended him before, and so his men came and got me out of bed the other night when he was injured. But I never dreamed of being taken on his boat. Oh, I am so glad I escaped."

"Yes, yes, Doctor," said Mr. Temple. "But tell us what you know, please."

"There isn't much to tell," he said. "I gathered from a hint dropped by the cook that the Chinese aboard wanted vengeance on you people because of the way you had laid out old Wong Ho, their leader. There is some queer clannishness, some tie, that I don't understand. But it is quite certain they did thirst for your blood.

"So I went to Engineer MacFinney and warned him the Chinese might try to break down his engines, in order to seize the s.h.i.+p before it reached its destination and thus get you in their power without interference from Folwell's land forces. He went below, and presently called me and I joined him.

"He had the engines working. The dozen Chinese aboard were busy under his directions. He took me aside, out of their hearing, and ordered me to go to the Chinese cook-who, for some reason, probably because he was of another tong or clan, was not on good terms with the rest of the crew.

"'Tell him,' he ordered me, 'to go into the forecastle and take away all the revolvers hidden there. He'll know where to find them. These fellows always carry their knives, but if they have any revolvers around, we'll appropriate those at least.'

"I was frightened, gentlemen. I am a man of peace. But the burly engineer overawed me, and drove me forth to do his bidding. The cook found a number of revolvers and appropriated them, hiding them in his pans. But evidently, he overlooked one revolver or else the man possessing it carried it with him, for you were shot at several times by one of the Chinese."

"I'll say we were," declared Frank, slangily.

"Then," continued the doctor, "when I returned to the engine room, the Chinese all left. Perhaps they suspected some treachery toward them was going on. At any rate, they scampered for the forecastle, and Engineer MacFinney couldn't stop them with his curses and blows.

"A moment or two later, Matt Murphy came into the engine room. Mr.

MacFinney was working at his gauges. Murphy beckoned me, and I followed to the deck. He asked me to help him lower a boat and tie it to the stern. He said the Chinese were plotting an attack even then, and that if I wanted to save my life I must carry out his orders. I obeyed.

"As we worked, I asked whether he was coming, too? 'No,' said he, 'ye'll be picked up by Uncle Sam's men. Them byes are calling a speedy patrol boat by radio right now. I want to get 'em off an' away quick, so we can escape in the trawler. I don't want to be put in prison the rest o' my life.'

"'But this trawler is slow,' I protested. 'How can you hope to escape from a fast patrol boat?'

"'Fog,' said he. 'I can smell it comin'. After last night's storm, it's bound to come up. If it only comes in time we can hide in it, an' that's our chance.'"

"Fog?" cried Frank, alarmed.

So interested had all been in Doctor Marley's narrative they had paid no attention to their surroundings. Now, at Frank's cry, they glanced around.

"Here it comes, too," Frank added, pointing toward the trawler. The vessel was more than two miles away, and making fast going. As Frank pointed, a wall of fog sweeping across the water engulfed it. One moment, the trawler stood out clear and distinct. The next, it had disappeared entirely from sight, and the fog was rolling toward them.

"Good heavens," cried Doctor Marley, "we'll be lost in mid-ocean. How can the patrol boat find us?"

"Here she comes now," Frank shouted, pointing to the southwest, where the sun yet shone.

"Two or three miles away yet," said Jack, anxiously, estimating the distance to where the speedy little craft was sending up two columns of water before her prow.

"Wow, and here's the fog," shouted Bob.

"Frank, you hold the rudder so that we make a small circle, and Bob and Jack, do you row easily," called Mr. Temple. "That will be better than merely drifting. The Sub Chaser evidently sees us. It must, for it is undoubtedly on the lookout. It ought to be up in fifteen minutes.

Presently we'll begin to shout."

His directions were approved and carried out. Some twenty minutes later, in response to their shouts, a m.u.f.fled hail came across the water. The boys plied their oars. Hails were repeated back and forth. Soon a dark bulk loomed ahead, they b.u.mped into the Sub Chaser, and then one by one clambered to the deck.

CHAPTER XVII

LOST TRAIL

As they gained the deck of the Sub Chaser they were confronted by a young ensign in the uniform of Uncle Sam's navy. He regarded them keenly, then offered his hand to Mr. Temple.

"It seems we came just in time," said he. "A bit later and we would have had difficulty in locating you in the fog. As it was, we got your position through the gla.s.ses before the fog closed down. Did they set you adrift?"

"No, we broke away of our own volition, in a way of speaking," said Mr.

Temple. "But explanations can come later. My name is Temple, George Temple of New York. This is Doctor Marley, and these young men are my son Bob and his chums, Jack Hampton and Frank Merrick."

"And mine is Arthur Warwick," said the other, acknowledging the introductions, "Ensign Arthur Warwick, U. S. N., at your service. Let us go to my quarters."

Turning, he led the way with Mr. Temple beside him and the others following, under the gaze of a number of American sailors scattered about.

"Are you going to stick to the trail of the trawler?" queried Mr.

Temple.

"We shall try to," said the other. "Although if this fog continues long, our chance of success will be small. We were heading for the S. S. Bear, a north-bound coast liner, to take off Inspector Burton of the Secret Service, when your radio caught us and faced us about. Now, from what Mr. Merrick said over the radio, I fancy we had better stick to this trawler as long as there is a chance of capturing her. If we miss her, I shall speed up to catch the Bear. Meantime, I have given orders to slow down with m.u.f.fled engines, so that if we hear the trawler in the fog we stand a better chance. Let us go below, for I want to hear your story in greater detail."

In the tight little cabin of the Sub Chaser they were considerably crowded, but by disposing themselves as compactly as possible all found room. Then Mr. Temple and the boys told their story. It took considerable time in the telling, for Ensign Warwick asked so many questions they were compelled to begin at the very beginning of things with Frank's overhearing the words dropped by "Black George" on the train.

Ensign Warwick nodded warmly many times during the course of the narrative, evidently in high approval of the courage and resource shown by the boys. He himself was a young man, not more than twenty-five, tall as Bob and of much the same deep-chested frame with tanned face in which twinkled honest blue eyes that impressed the chums favorably.

"You fellows certainly have been having a lot of fun," he said, half enviously, half laughingly. "While here am I with nothing exciting to brighten things for me since the war ended."

"Were you on the other side?" asked Frank eagerly. "Golly, how I wanted to go over, but Uncle George said I was too young."

Warwick nodded.

"I was on convoy duty," said he, "and had several brushes with German submarines. I was torpedoed twice, and once sunk a sub."