CHAPTER XXIII.
"YOU ARE A PRISONER OF THE GOVERNMENT!"
He found it without much difficulty. It was located in a building inthe centre of the town. The Stars and Stripes hung from the doorway.Ned saluted the flag as he passed under it. His heart beat morehopefully, and his step lightened and quickened. Already he felt as ifhis troubles were over.
A rather gruff-looking, red-faced quartermaster was in charge. Helooked up sharply from a paper-littered desk as Ned entered.
"Well," he said quickly, "what can I do for you?"
"A good deal," rejoined Ned, and launched into his story forthwith.
"Humph!" said the man, when he concluded, "and so you want money torejoin the fleet at Blackhaven?"
"Yes," said Ned. "I have, as I hinted, a good reason for my request. IfI had had the money, I should have lost no time in communicating withLieutenant De Frees."
"Humph! By the way, just tell me your name, young man."
"Strong--Ned Strong," rejoined Ned.
The red-faced man grew redder than ever, and burrowed among his paperslike an industrious rabbit. At last he unearthed what he wanted andscanned it closely. He kept glancing from the paper to Ned, and fromNed to the paper, till the lad felt quite embarrassed. At last hefinished.
"Humph!" he said, with his usual preparatory clearing of the throat,"so you are Ned Strong. It's a lucky thing you came in here, Strong."
"How is that?" asked Ned, with a smile. "Of course, I hope it's luckyfor me," he added quickly.
"Humph! No, it's lucky for me," insisted the other.
"Is that so?" asked Ned, not knowing just what else to say.
The red-faced man rose to his feet, and, without another word, wentinto an adjoining room. Ned could hear him telephoning, but could notcatch the words. He came back presently and sat down at his table oncemore.
"Can you advance me the money?" demanded Ned. "It's very important, youknow, that I should start as soon as possible."
"Oh, yes; humph! by all means; humph! the money is on its way from thebank now."
"Thank you," said Ned simply.
"It must be a large sum," he thought to himself.
He picked up a paper that lay near at hand. Idly, to pass the time, hescanned it. Sandwiched in amidst the sensational news--for which Ned'swholesome mind did not care--was a headline that caught his eye:
"FLEET SAILS FOR BLACKHAVEN."
Ned's heart pounded violently. The recollection of that flutteringwireless message he had caught came back to him. With it, also, came avivid remembrance of the torpedoes under the floor of the anarchists'craft.
Suddenly another item caught his eye:
"MYSTERIOUS HAPPENING AT NAVAL AERO STATION--TWO NAVY AVIATORS MISSING WITH SUM OF MONEY."
All at once Ned caught his own name and then Herc's. The type swambefore him for an instant, but he steadied his vision and read on. Thepaper gave a sensational account of their mysterious disappearance fromthe hotel in Bartonville. It also stated that Herc had drawn some ofthe money intrusted to their care just before he left.
"The men are being sought for by the department," the despatch added,"and when arrested will be summarily dealt with. Every recruitingoffice and naval station in the country, as well as the police, havebeen notified."
Ned looked up from his paper with startled eyes. He caught the gaze ofthe red-faced quartermaster fixed accusingly on him.
"So you've read it?" said that dignitary.
"I've read a lot of sensational rubbish," was the hot reply.
"Not half so sensational or rubbishy as what you've told me," sniffedthe quartermaster.
"That being the case," said Ned hotly, "I shall not bother you further.Good afternoon."
"Hold on there! Humph! humph! Not so fast!" exclaimed the other, risingand stepping swiftly between Ned and the door, "you've to wait here awhile."
"Wait!" echoed Ned. "I can't wait. Why, man alive, the safety of thefleet depends on my reaching there."
"Oh, nonsense! You don't mean to say you've brooded over that story somuch you believe it yourself?"
Ned was first thunderstruck and then horrified. In living through theextraordinary events of the recent past, it had never struck him howfantastic and impossible they would seem to the average man.
"But it's true, I tell you! I can prove it, every word!" he burst out.
"How?"
"Why, by my shipmate, Hercules Taylor."
"Where is he?"
"A prisoner on that sloop."
"Come, come, young man. You've been reading too many dime novels. Why,there isn't a court martial in the land that would believe such acock-and-bull story. I'll wager that your chum Taylor is hiding someplace around town while you came up here to try and raise some moremoney. I must say it was a nervy thing to do."
"Good heavens!" cried Ned. "Do you mean to say that you don't credit aword of my story?"
"Nary a word. A wilder yarn I never listened to, and I've served onall kinds of craft, man and boy, for a good many years. Now, let megive you a bit of advice, young fellow. When you are on trial, don'tspring any such gammoning as you've told me. Just stick to the plaintruth and you may get off lighter than you otherwise would."
Ned gasped. For an instant he almost lost control of himself. But herealized that, if he was to be of service to the fleet, he must keephis self-possession.
"When I rejoin the fleet," he said, "it won't be as a prisoner."
"Won't, eh? Don't be too sure of that," was the response.
A sudden heavy tramping was heard on the stairs.
The quartermaster flung open the door.
"Here he is now," he called out, "the fellow Strong. Take him intocustody and lock him up till I arrange with the naval authorities tohave him sent back to his ship."
As he spoke, several heavy-footed men filed into the room. They allbore the unmistakable stamp of the country constable.
Ned's tongue almost stuck to the roof of his mouth, it grew so dry.Every nerve in his body quivered. Was it possible that all this wasreal? It seemed more like an ugly nightmare.
"Look here," he exclaimed, in a voice he tried to render calm andcollected, "this has gone far enough. Everything can be explained. Butyou mustn't lock me up now. Let me go back to the fleet. There is aconspiracy on foot to destroy some of the ships. I must warn----"
A rough laugh interrupted him.
"What kind er moonshine be that, young chap?" grinned the constable."Yer don't go ter thinkin' we puts any stock in such talk as thet, doyer? If yer do, yer mus' think we're 'dunderheads' jes 'cos this isDundertown. Na-ow, come on! Air you comin' quiet, or air yer comin'rough?"
Ned turned to the quartermaster, who stood pompously puffed up,surveying the civil authorities with a patronizing air.
"Remember, officer," he said, "humph! the prisoner is not a civilprisoner. He is only placed in your temporary care by me as arepresentative of the United States government."
"Ve-ree well," rejoined the constable; "we'll take care of him, byheck! Jes' bin pinin' ter put some 'un in ther new jail. Thet remindsme, we've got another prisoner ter pick up daown ter ther circusgrounds."
"His name isn't Taylor, this chap's companion, humph?" demanded thequartermaster.
"No. It's jes' a pickpocket. We'll go by the circus on our way to therlock-up. It's only a step out'n our way. Come on, young feller."
He extended a pair of handcuffs. Ned burned with shame andmortification. Suddenly he bethought himself of Sam and all the picnicparty at the circus. What if they should see him with handcuffs on?What would they think?
"For heaven's sake," he begged, "don't put those things on me. I'llgive you my word of honor not to try to escape if you don't."
"Wa-al, I dunno," said the constable doubtfully, "handcuffs is reg-lar,but----"
"Put them on him--humph!" shrilled the quartermaster.
Luckily, this ill-natured interruption turned the tide in Ned's f
avor.
"Say, quartermaster," snapped the constable, "this man is er civilprisoner, fer the time being, an' what I say goes. Don't you go terbuttin' in."
"Ain't you going to put handcuffs on him?" exclaimed the naval officer.
"No, I bean't."
"I order you to."
"Keep yer orders fer ther navy. I'm constable uv this taown, an' I saythis prisoner don't wear 'em."
"I'll report you to--to the president," was the tremendous threat ofthe pompous quartermaster, who had turned as red as an angry turkeycock.
"Even ther president of this United States ain't a-goin' ter say ha-owthings is to be run in Dundertown," snapped the constable. He laid ahand on Ned's elbow.
"Come on, young man," he said, "you promised to come quietly, remember."
Ned turned imploringly to the quartermaster.
"You have taken the oath of allegiance to the navy," he saidpassionately. "Now act up to it. Find some means to warn the fleetat Blackhaven that anarchists are going to try to torpedo some ofthe ships. Warn them against a black sloop with a red line round herbulwarks."
"Warn them against a fiddlestick!" sniffed the quartermaster. "Who everheard such nonsense? Humph!"
Ned almost groaned aloud as he was ushered out, with a deputy on eitherside of him. But he managed to control himself. The lad had been inmany tight places in foreign lands, and in active service. But not oneof them had been more trying to bear up under than this disaster thathad befallen him in a peaceful country town in his native land.
"When will my case be heard?" Ned asked, as they reached the street. Hewas in hopes that if it was to come up immediately he could convincethe magistrate, or whatever dignitary he was tried by, that his arrestwas absolutely unjustified.
"Wa-al, squire won't be back to ta-own till day arter ter-morrer,"was the reply that dashed his hopes. "Anyhow, he couldn't do nuthin'fer yer. We're only holding yer here. You're a prisoner of the UnitedStates government."
Those were the bitterest words that Ned had ever heard. They seemed tosear his very being.