CHAPTER XIII
RAWLINS' PROPOSAL
When Rawlins called on Mr. Pauling the following day the first thingthat greeted him was the announcement that the submarine had been found.
So excited were the boys that for some time they could not convey anintelligible idea of the matter and before Rawlins could grasp thedetails of the discovery they were plying him with questions as to hisopinion in regard to it.
"What do you think became of the men?" cried Tom.
"Do you suppose it was their boat?" demanded Frank.
"How do you think it got so far away, if it's theirs?" put in Tom.
"We puzzled over it for hours last night and no one can explain it,"declared Frank.
"Easy, boys, easy!" laughed Rawlins. "One thing at a time. Shorten sailsa bit and let me get my bearings. You say the destroyer found asubmarine floating just awash and absolutely deserted one hundred milesoff the coast? I don't believe it _was_ that sub!"
"Could you identify it by a description--anything about it?" asked Mr.Pauling.
"Well, I don't know," admitted Rawlins. "I know it was a German sub andI'd recognize it if I saw it; but whether I can be sure of it by adescription depends upon the description."
"They're towing her in," Mr. Pauling informed him. "She was disabled andunable to come in under her own power. Until she arrives all we know isthat she is a German boat--one of the medium-sized craft--that shecarries torpedoes and a gun and that she is painted sea-green."
"Fits her like an Easter bonnet," declared Rawlins. "Under water I couldnot be sure of her color, but it was not black or gray--everything takeson a greenish look under water. Did they find anything suspicious onher?"
"That I can't say," replied Mr. Pauling. "They didn't report whetherthey made any discoveries or not."
"But if it _is_ the submarine, where are the men?" reiterated Tom.
"Search me," replied Rawlins. "A lot of things may have happened tothem. Something may have gone wrong so they were obliged to come up andknowing they would be captured they took the sub's boats. Or again, theymay have decided to desert the sub and scatter--probably they knew thechaps we got, and suspected they'd confess. It would have been an easymatter to run in close to shore, take to the boats and land and thensink the boats in shallow water so as to leave no trace. Or some shipmight have picked them up. By the way, I've been puzzling oversomething. How do you suppose that sub got in and out of the West Indieswithout being seen and reported. If she carried contraband in and lootout she must have gone to some port."
"Why, didn't I explain that?" asked Mr. Pauling. "Must have slipped mymind when relating the story yesterday. The prisoner told us how theymanaged. The submarine never entered any port--unless you consider thehiding place of the chief of the gang a port--but picked up her cargoesin mid-ocean."
"Oh, I see, transferred them from another ship, eh?" said Rawlins."Stupid of me not to think of it."
"Not quite right yet, Rawlins," chuckled Mr. Pauling. "It was this way.A vessel would sail from a West Indian port with a cargo and would dropit overboard at a designated spot. Then the submarine would pick it up.If they had transferred on the surface they might have been seen andrough weather would have interfered. Moreover, if those on the schoonerssaw the submarine or knew of her they might have talked. They imaginedthe things were to be grappled or brought up by divers. The head of thisbunch takes no chances."
"Ah, now I see a light dawning!" exclaimed Rawlins. "I think that solvesseveral puzzles. You remember those messages you boys heard? Well, theyalways, or nearly always, included numbers--'thirty-eight fifty,seventy-seven' was one, I believe--and 'good bottom' and similar things.I often wondered about those, but I'll bet those were the spots wherethe sub was to find cargoes dumped. Hasn't that Russian Johnny comeacross with anything more about the high Muck-a-Muck of the bunch andwhere he hangs out?"
"No, I had another long session with him, but he swears he knows nothingabout it and for once I am inclined to think he is telling the truth,"replied Mr. Pauling. "He insists that he never visited the place--neversaw the chief and does not even know who he is--except that all spoke ofhim as of a supreme being or a king. His story is that only a fewmen--just enough to man the submarine--including the fellow who died,went to headquarters. That the others, including himself, were alwaysput ashore at a small island in the West Indies where they had a campand that they walked to the island from the submarine and from the shoreto their under-sea craft in diving suits."
"That's a probable yarn," assented Rawlins. "Did he tell you the name ofthe island?"
"He says he doesn't know it himself, that there were a few natives therewhen he first arrived, but that under orders from their superiors theymurdered the blacks in cold blood."
"Dirty swine, I'll say!" exclaimed Rawlins. "Well, I know the WestIndies a lot better than I know New York and if we can squeeze some sortof a description from old pig-eye I'll wager I can locate that hangout.But now about that other business--those messages--have you got the notesyou made of them, boys?"
"Sure," replied Tom, "At least, Mr. Henderson has. We gave them all tohim."
"Well, we'll need 'em if Mr. Pauling thinks my proposition all right,"said Rawlins. "I hadn't got it quite settled as to details when I camein, but the capture of that sub--if she is the one--has cleared it allup."
"I can tell you better what I think of any proposal you may have after Ihave heard it," said Mr. Pauling.
"All right, here goes," laughed Rawlins. "You see from what you told usabout that dead fellow's confession, I am pretty sure the big 'I am' ofthe bunch is hanging out somewhere in the West Indies. You said he wasgiving you the place and had mentioned three figures of latitude andlongitude when he kicked off. Now I don't know what those figures are,but there are not such an everlasting lot of combinations of figures inthe islands--that is, where a man could have a secret hangout--and I know'em like a book--better than any book in fact--and if I had those figuresI'll bet I can locate the old Buckaroo. Not only that, but with my suitsand the boys' radio and my submarine chamber--the same as I use fortaking under-sea pictures--we could get the loot and everything else ifhe's got any of it under water.
"I rather figured, from what you said, that might be where he'd hide it,especially as he seems stuck on under-sea work. Why, if the old covehimself had a house under the sea I could find him! If they used thisnew-fangled radio under water up here you can bet your boots the oldguy's using it where he hangs out and if we're any place near we canpick him up and the boys can locate him with that radio compassbusiness. You see he probably won't be wise to any one else being on tothe radio business. I was afraid that sub might get back and give itaway, but the chances are that if the men aboard her got ashore theyeither won't dare show up down there and will just fade away or else wecan beat 'em to it.
"Taking that sub gave me another idea and a good one. We can fix up theold boat and go scouting for old Stick-in-the-mud in that. If he or anyof his gang see her they'll think it's all right and that their gang'sstill in her. I know a pretty good lot about handling a sub and we canpick up a few good ex-navy men I know. Now don't you think that's acorking good scheme, Mr. Pauling?"
Mr. Pauling hestitated, thinking deeply, before he spoke.
"It has its good points," he admitted at last, "but it's rather a wildscheme--just what I should expect from a boy who'll tackle two strangersand a submarine single-handed under water--and there's not one chance inten thousand that it will succeed. You see, the West Indies are a prettygood-sized place and you'd have to go by guess work a great deal, evenwith the figures the man gave us. However, I'm willing to aid and abetthe scheme, as any chance--no matter how remote--of getting that archfiend is worth trying. I can get the submarine without trouble and cansecure men who can be depended upon, but who's going with you on yourwild-goose or wild-man chase?"
"Why, we are!" cried Tom and Frank in unison.
"The dickens you are!" exclaimed Mr. Pauling. "I should say not!"
The boys' faces fell. "Oh, Dad, please let us go," begged Tom. "It willbe great--going in a submarine and trying to find that fellow with ourradio. Why won't you let us go?"
"Too much risk," replied his father. "I've had one fright over you andthat's enough."
"Well, that rather knocks out my plans, too," declared Rawlins. "I'dcounted on the boys going to work the radio end of it--seems kind of hardon them to let some one else do it after they invented the thing andwere responsible for getting the men and the sub. If it hadn't been forthem I'd never have got 'em, as it was their hearing Tom yell for helpthat made 'em surrender, and you'd never have thought of that block andthe garage if they hadn't located those messages with their radiocompasses. I don't think there's any danger, Mr. Pauling."
"I don't agree with you," declared Mr. Pauling in positive tones. "Ifyou go after that man there's every danger. You can't tell what force hemay use or how an attempt to capture him might turn out."
"But I had no idea of attempting to get him alone," replied Rawlins insurprise. "My plan was to have a trim little destroyer right handy andthen, when we'd located Mr. Big Bug, we'd report to the jackies and letthem do the dirty work. The boys wouldn't have to be where there was anyscrapping going on and that old ex-German sub is never going to be mycoffin if I can help it, I'll tell the world. No, sir, my idea was justto do the scouting, so to speak--secret service under the sea--and letthe boys be in on the preliminary intelligence work running the secretservice of the air as you might say."
"Well, I suppose in that case there would be little risk," admitted Mr.Pauling, "and as you say, they _are_ really the ones who should beallowed to have charge of their own apparatus as they have earned theright to it. I'll have to give a little more consideration to the matterbefore I decide, however. Possibly I may wish to go along also--or I maybe asked to, when I put this matter before my superiors. Now here arethose figures given by the dying man and the notes made by the boys."
Unlocking a drawer, Mr. Pauling took out a packet of papers and spreadthem before Rawlins, while the two boys, now that events had taken amore hopeful and promising turn, laughed and talked excitedly to eachother, wildly enthusiastic at the bare possibility of going on theunique search.
For a few minutes Rawlins studied the various sheets intently andsilently, comparing the figures which the boys had heard spoken and theones given by the dying Irishman, and at last he glanced up.
"These numbers of the boys' will need a lot of study," he declared, "butthese the chap in the hospital gave are dead easy. One of 'em isnineteen and as there's no longitude nineteen in the West Indies, orwithin two thousand miles of the islands, it must be latitude, so therewe have a clue right out of the box--nineteen north latitude. Now if wetake a map and follow along nineteen we'll know it must be within a fewmiles of it that we'll locate old Beelzebub. It can't be over sixtymiles north of that meridian or the man would have said twenty insteadof nineteen, and it can't be south of it or he'd have said eighteen andsomething. So we can be dead sure the old duck hits the hay somewhere ina sixty-mile belt bounded by meridians nineteen and twenty. Now here arethe other two numbers--sixty and seventy-five. You say he sort of lostconsciousness between these and you thought he said southwest by south.Well, sixty might be longitude--the sixtieth meridian is in the WestIndies--but he might have meant sixty anything and so, if it _is_longitude he was getting at, it brings us down to a space six hundredmiles east and west and sixty miles north and south--quite a considerablebit of land and water to search--about 36,000 square miles--but only alittle of it's land, so it don't cut such a figure. That'll takein--let's see--some of the Virgins, I think, and a lot of little cays andquite a bit of Santo Domingo, but shucks, that's not such a heap. ButI'll admit this seventy-five gets my nanny. It's not minutes--'causethere are only sixty minutes to a degree and it's a dead sure cinch thatit's not latitude or longitude if those other numbers are, and if it'slatitude it would be in the Arctic instead of the Caribbean and if it'slongitude it'll knock calculations out for about a thousand miles andwill take in all of Santo Domingo and Haiti, a bit of Cuba and most ofthe Bahamas. Looks as if we might have some jaunt. And I don't get thosecompass bearings. However, maybe when they get that sub in and searchher we'll find some chart or something. When do you expect----"
At this moment the telephone rang and Mr. Pauling answered.
"Ah, fine!" he exclaimed. "Expect to be in within an hour! Yes, I'd beglad to. I'm bringing some others with me--Mr. Rawlins and the boys. Yes,queer we were just talking of it. Good."
"It was the navy yard," explained Mr. Pauling as he hung up thereceiver. "They say the submarine is coming in now and will be at theyard in half an hour. The Admiral wants me to be on hand to board her assoon as she arrives and I'd like you and the boys to come along."
"Hurrah!" yelled the two boys. "Now we'll see what they had on her."
"And we'll know if she's the right sub," added Rawlins. "Though it'sdollars to doughnuts that she is--it's not likely there's more than onelost, strayed or stolen sub knocking about in these waters."
When they reached the Navy Yard the submarine was just being docked andtwenty minutes later they were entering her open hatch. The boys hadnever been within a submarine before and were intensely interested inthe machinery, the submerging devices, the air-locks and the torpedotubes, but their greatest interest was in the radio room. But here, muchto their chagrin and disappointment, they found practically nothing.There were a few wires, some discarded old-fashioned coils, somemicrophones and receivers and a loop aerial. Everything else had beenremoved and nothing was left to show what sort of instruments had beenused. The boys were about to leave when Tom noticed somethinghalf-hidden under a coil of wire, and, curious to see what it might be,pulled it out.
"Gosh!" he exclaimed as he saw what it was. "These chaps were using thatsame single control. This is part of it. Look, Frank, the dial is justthe same as the one Mr. Henderson gave us."
"Gee, that's right!" agreed Frank. "But then," he added, "after all it'snot surprising. You know Mr. Henderson said the one he gave us came froma German U-boat."
"Not a thing in the radio room," announced Tom, as the boys rejoined Mr.Pauling. "Everything's stripped clean, but they used the same sort oftuner that Mr. Henderson gave us. Where's Mr. Rawlins?"
"Somewhere under our feet," laughed his father. "He went down to examinethe hull. Wants to be sure this is the same boat."
A few moments later the door to the air-lock was opened and Rawlinsappeared.
"I'll say it's the same old sub!" he exclaimed. "There's a dent in herskin near the stern on the port side. I noticed it before and it's thereall right. Found anything up here?"
"No, nothing of any value to us," replied Mr. Pauling. "The boys say theradio's been stripped from her and we haven't been able to find a chartor a map or a scrap of paper aboard. We found two of those carriersthough--the cigar-shaped affairs you saw the divers towing through thewater; but they're both empty. If these fellows took anything from thegarage they disposed of it before they left the submarine."
"Were the boats on her when they found her?" asked Rawlins.
"No, no sign of them," replied the officer who was with them. "I boardedher first thing, but there was no sign of life aboard and no boats."
"It's darned funny!" commented Rawlins. "If these lads took to the boatsthey did it deliberately and took mighty good care to clean the old subout before they left. That disposes of the theory that they werecompelled to leave. Do you know what the trouble was with her machinery,Commander?"
"Haven't found out yet," replied the officer. "We'll have the engineersaboard as soon as Mr. Pauling is through inspection."
"Didn't see any signs of small boats near where you found her, did you?"inquired Rawlins.
The officer shook his head.
"No," he replied, "but it was pretty dark and they might have beenwithin a few miles--very low visibility."
"And no other vessel that might have pi
cked them up?" continued Rawlins.
"Not a sail in sight--except a fishing smack about ten miles off. We randown to her and boarded her. Thought they might have sighted the sub, orpicked up the men. They hadn't done either. Bunch of square-heads thatdidn't seem to know what a sub was, just dirty fishermen."
"Dead sure they were?" asked Rawlins. "Didn't notice where she hailedfrom, did you?"
The officer flushed.
"Afraid we didn't," he admitted, a trace of resentment at beingquestioned in his tones. "She hoisted sail soon after we left her."
"And nothing peculiar about her in any way, I suppose?" suggested Mr.Pauling.
"Well, I didn't see anything," replied the commander, "but I believe oneof my bluejackets made some remark about her rig. He's a bo'sun's mateand an old man-o-warsman--Britisher but naturalized citizen and served inthe British navy. Would you like to question him? I'm no expert onsailing craft myself."
"Better talk to him, Rawlins," suggested Mr. Pauling.
As there seemed nothing more to be discovered on the submarine the partyleft the under-sea craft and walked to the destroyer which had foundher. The sailor to whom the officer had referred proved to be a grizzledold salt--a typical deep-sea sailor and the boys could not take theireyes from him. Touching his gray forelock in salute, the man hitched histrousers, squinted one eye and reflectively scratched his head just overhis left ear.
"Yes, Sir," he said, in reply to Mr. Rawlins' question. "She _was_ a bitqueer, Sir. Blow me ef she warn't. Man an' boy Hi've been a sailorin'most thirty year an' strike me if Hi ever seed a Yankee smack the likeo' her, Sir. What was it was queer about her, you're askin' on me? Well,Sir, 'twas like this, Sir. She had a bit too much rake to her marsts,Sir, an' a bit too high a dead-rise an' her starn warn't right an' hercutwater was diff'rent an' her cuddy. She carried a couple o' littlekennels to port and sta'board o' her companion-way, Sir--same as thosebloomin' West Hindian packets, Sir. An' as you know, Sir, most Yankeesmacks carry main torpmas's and no fore-torpmas' while this e'er hookerwas sportin' o' sticks slim an' lofty as a yacht's, Sir, an' a jib-boomwhat was a sprung a bit down, Sir. But what got my bally goat, Sir, wasthe crew. Mos' of 'em was Scandinav'ans, Sir, but the skipper was amulatter or somethin' o' that specie, Sir, an' blow me hif he didn'ttalk with a haccent what might ha' been learnt at Wapping, Sir."
Rawlins whistled.
"I'll say there was something queer about her!" he exclaimed. "Anythingelse? Did you note her name and port?"
Once more the old sailor scratched his head and shifted the tobacco inhis cheek before replying.
"Cawn't say as how Hi did, Sir," he announced at last. "You see, Sir,she had her mainsail lowered, Sir, and a hangin' a bit sloppy over herstern, Sir, an' we was alongside an' didn't pass under her stern, Sir."
"What sort of boats did she carry and how many?" asked Rawlins.
"Dories, Sir, six of 'em," replied the sailor, "anything more, Sir?"
"No, I think that's all. Thanks for the information," replied Rawlinsand then, reaching in his pocket he handed the man several cigars.
Touching his forelock again and with a final hitch of his trousers thesailor turned and strolled off with the rolling gait of the truedeep-water seaman.
"Well, what do you make of it?" asked Mr. Pauling, when the sailor wasout of earshot.
"I'll say it's blamed funny that packet was hanging around near thesub," replied Rawlins. "It might be a coincidence--Bahama smacks _do_come pretty well up here during the summer--and she might have been arum-runner, but putting two and two together I'd say she was waiting forthe sub and that the crew were on board her when the destroyer came up."
"Jove!" ejaculated Mr. Pauling. "Then you think she was a West Indianboat?"
"I don't think, I know!" answered Rawlins. "A Bahama schooner--not anydoubt of that. Only Caribbean craft carry those two deck-houses and thatsprung jib-boom and the darkey skipper with the English accent justclinches it. I'll bet those square-heads were Russian Johnnies or Hunsoff this darn sub. Say, if we don't get a move on they'll beat us to theislands yet!"
"Gosh!" exclaimed Tom. "I'll bet they took their radio outfit aboard."
"I'll say they did!" declared Rawlins. "And like as not they'll be underfull sail for the Caribbean by now and working that radio overtime toget word to the old High Panjandrum down there."
"Not if I know it!" cried Mr. Pauling. "Come along, Rawlins. I'm goingto see the Admiral."
The result of that hurried and exceedingly confidential interview wasthat, as the boys and Mr. Rawlins were crossing the Manhattan Bridge inMr. Pauling's car, they looked down and saw a lean, gray destroyersweeping down the river with two others in her wake, black smoke pouringfrom their funnels, great mounds of foam about their bows and screechingan almost incessant warning from their sirens as they sped seawardsbearing orders to overhaul and capture a Bahama schooner that, under acloud of canvas, was plunging southward on the farther edge of the GulfStream, her mulatto skipper driving his craft to her utmost, while alofttwo monkeylike negro seamen were busily stretching a pair of slenderwires between the straining lofty topmasts.
Two days later, a black-hulled liner steamed out from New York's harborand dropping her pilot also headed southward for the Bahamas. Upon herdecks stood Tom and Frank with Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson by theirsides, while in the Navy Yard, with a marine guard tramping ceaselesslyback and forth about her, a submarine was being feverishly fitted for along cruise.
After much discussion, Mr. Pauling had at last given consent to the boysjoining in the search for the mysterious master mind whose plans had sofar come to grief through their efforts, although he refused to considerletting them go south on the captured submarine. But the boys had noobjections to this, for they did not look forward with any pleasure toan ocean voyage in the sub-sea boat and were filled with excitement atthe thoughts of the adventures in store for them when they joinedRawlins, and the submarine at a prearranged meeting place in theBahamas.
As they watched the skyline of New York fade into the mists of thesummer afternoon and the smooth gray-green sea stretched before thembeyond the Narrows, they were thinking of the adventures which had sostrangely fallen to their lot in the great city and Tom chuckled.
"Remember when we first called ourselves radio detectives?" he askedFrank, "Gosh! we never thought we'd even strike anything the way wedid."
"You bet I do!" rejoined Frank. "Say, wasn't Henry sore because hecouldn't go and wasn't he crazy to find out what we were going for? It'sgreat! And we're real radio detectives now--working for Uncle Sam, too!"
"Rather, I should say, 'radio secret service,'" said Mr. Henderson whostood beside them. "But don't talk about it. Remember the first thingfor a person in this service to learn is to hear everything, seeeverything and say nothing."
"We will!" declared the boys in unison.
"That'll be our motto!" added Tom. "Isn't it a bully one?"
"As Mr. Rawlins would say, 'I'll say it is'!" said Frank.
THE END
BY A. HYATT VERRILL
THE RADIO DETECTIVES THE RADIO DETECTIVES UNDER THE SEA THE RADIO DETECTIVES SOUTHWARD BOUND THE DEEP SEA HUNTERS THE BOOK OF THE MOTOR BOAT ISLES OF SPICE AND PALM
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
Publishers, New York
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