The Dreadnought Boys on Battle Practice
CHAPTER XXI.
AFLOAT AND ASHORE.
The petty officer in command of Number One whaleboat noted the effectof the shot and then looked about for Herc. As we know, the red-headedlad was not on board, nor did any inquiry among the crew bring asatisfactory explanation of his whereabouts.
The men had seen him standing on the stern, and then had lost track ofhim. They had supposed that he was "somewhere on board," they said.
Kennell alone volunteered an explanation.
"He may have tumbled overboard, sir," he suggested. "I saw him standingup in the stern-sheets as I cast off with my boathook."
"We must communicate with Ensign Rosseau at once," said the officer,greatly agitated.
He knew that a searching investigation would follow the loss of aman, and he foresaw that he would appear in no very creditable lightwithout any explanation to offer as to the manner in which Herc hadvanished.
The triangular fin was now close upon the lad.]
Rapidly the whaleboat was rowed to the wherry, which "lay to" somedistance away, with the Number Two whaleboat alongside.
The tidings of Herc's loss were received with some anxiety by theensign. He turned to Ned, whose face had gone white at the news, andasked curtly if Herc could swim.
"Like a fish, sir," was Ned's rejoinder, although he had hard work tokeep his lips from quivering at the thought of his friend's possiblefate.
"Then there is a chance that he can be saved yet," breathed the ensign;"give way for that float yonder. Strong, signal the news to theflagship and inform them that we are standing by."
Ned, badly unnerved as he was, made the necessary signals, and receivedan order to "carry on" from the flag-ship.
The two whaleboats and the wherry at once got under way for the targetnear which Herc had last been seen.
Suddenly Ned gave a shout and pointed ahead.
"Look, sir, look!" he cried.
Not more than a hundred feet from them a rubicund object, which asecond glance showed to be Herc's head, was bobbing about on the waves.
But the water had by this time grown dark and oily-looking. Theapproaching squall would burst in all its fury in a few minutes.
The work of saving the swimming lad must be accomplished within a brieffew minutes, or not at all.
"Hold on, my lad, we'll get you," hailed the ensign encouragingly, asthe wherry drew closer and closer to the plucky boy.
"Aye, aye, sir," hailed back Herc, expelling a thin stream of waterfrom his lips and giving a cheerful grin; "but hurry up, for I'veforgotten my lightning-rod, and it looks like thunder."
But, just as Herc's easy rescue seemed a matter of certainty, theintentions of his saviors were interfered with in a startling fashion.
It was Ned who saw the impending peril first.
"Look! Look there!" he shouted. "What's that, sir?"
"That" was a black, triangular object, moving through the water towardthe unconscious Herc, who was treading water easily. The dark objectcame on at a rapid pace, the ripples parting on each side of it as itcut its way along.
The ensign's reply to Ned's exclamation was a cry of alarm.
"Give way!" he shouted. "We've got to get that man quickly, if at all."
Ned looked his question.
"It's a shark!" shot out the ensign, his face ashy-white and his lipssternly compressed; "these waters swarm with them."
Ned was almost unnerved. The boat was still some feet from Herc, andthe triangular fin was now close upon the lad.
Suddenly its steady motion ceased, and it shot forward with a rush.
At the same instant Herc perceived his peril, and gave one harrowingshriek, as he saw the terrible nature of the approaching peril.
He swam desperately toward the boats, his countenance strained andlined with the effort and the horror under which he labored.
"Crack!"
The sharp bark of a service revolver sounded.
"Crack! crack!"
Again and again the reports reverberated, and the water behind Hercgrew troubled and crimson.
The fin vanished and only a small whirlpool remained to show where themortally wounded shark had sunk slowly downward.
In the stern of the wherry stood Ned, his face set and stern, and inhis hand the navy revolver that had done the work.
It was the ensign's weapon, which he had laid on the stern seat for hisgreater ease in moving about.
Ned, casting about for some means of saving Herc, had suddenly spiedit, and, on the impulse of the moment, had snatched it up and fired.
"Well done, my lad," said the ensign in a voice that still trembledfrom the keen tension of the past few minutes.
"Sir--I----" began Ned, somewhat alarmed, now that Herc was out ofdanger. He had committed what he knew must be a breach of discipline inseizing the officer's pistol.
"You mean that it wasn't quite the thing to do to use my revolver,"laughed the ensign. "My lad, I'm proud that it was put to such goodservice; glad that you were quick enough of wit to use it in the nickof time."
A few moments later Herc was on board the wherry, and in reply to theeager questions of its occupants, gave them a brief account of hisaccident. He did not mention the fact that it was Kennell who hadtripped him for the second time, however, saving that for Ned's privateear later on. Herc had his own ideas about getting even with the brutalblue-jacket.
"When I saw that nothing could save me from being 'wiped out,' I stayedon the float," related Herc. "I recollected that I had felt an ironbrace on its subsurface with my foot, as I clambered up on to it.
"The minute I saw the signal, therefore, I dived and hung on to thebrace under water till I felt sure the shell had passed. Then I came upto the surface, and the rest you know."
"Thanks to your friend Strong, here," amended the ensign, "whosegallant conduct and presence of mind I mean to mention especiallyto Captain Dunham on our return to the ship. Had it not been forStrong's quick and sure aim, your adventure might have had a differenttermination, my man."
And now the long-expected squall burst in leaden-colored fury. To theboys, who had never witnessed a tropical squall, its rage was amazing.The flag-ship, which had seen its approach, had already signaled therecall, and the boats were on their way back to the _Manhattan_ whenthe tempest broke.
"Bale boat!" was the order transmitted through the little flotilla asthe waves began to come climbing over the bows of the small craft andtorrents of rain invaded them also.
By the time the battleship's side was reached, however, the squall wasover and the sun shining out brightly once more.
"That's the suddenest thing I ever saw," gasped Ned to Herc, as theyregained the deck of their five-million-dollar home, as Herc called thebig Dreadnought.
"It's not half as sudden as what's going to happen to a young partynamed Kennell before very long," grinned Herc meaningly.
* * * * *
Two nights later there was a brilliant scene at the Hotel del GranPlaza, the principal hostelry of Guantanamo. The mayor and civicdignitaries of the town, together with the merchants of the place, weregiving a dinner and reception to the officers of the squadron.
During the time that had elapsed since Herc's rescue, the DreadnoughtBoys had been participating in their capacity as two of the crew ofthe forward turret in battle practice. They had in that time becomeused to the big twelve-inch gun, and proved themselves capable of theresponsibility and confidence vested in them by their officers.
Well pleased with themselves, therefore, the two lads had come off theship that evening for shore leave. They had employed much of their timein strolling about, buying souvenirs and post-cards--which have eveninvaded Cuba--and seeing the few sights the town had to offer. Beingboth temperate, clean-cut young fellows, the low drinking dens andother resorts of the place had no attraction for them, although theywere well patronized by a number of the sailors. To the credit of UncleSam's navy, though, be it said that the keepers of suc
h places arecoming to look less and less to the wearers of naval uniforms for theirprofits. The man-o'-warsman of to-day is an ambitious young fellow.He is far too anxious to get ahead in his chosen profession to hauntplaces of foolish dissipation.
"Say, Ned--moving pictures!" Herc nudged his companion, as the twostood in front of a brilliantly lighted building on the main street ofthe Cuban town.
"We've got some time yet before the shore boats leave; let's take themin," suggested Ned.
As this was just what Herc had been anxious to do, no time was lost inbuying tickets and securing two seats well down in front, where the twoboys had a clear view of every film as it was displayed.
After the exhibition of two or three of the pictures, stories familiarin such places, the screen suddenly announced that the next picture wasto be a series of views taken in the Joliet penitentiary, showing thevarious phases of convict life. A note explained that the pictures hadbeen taken a few years before, prior to the wave of prison reform thathad swept over the country.
The first scene showed the interior of a basket-making shop, with therows of stripe-clothed unfortunates at work on their monotonous tasks.One after another similar repulsive views were shown.
"Say, let's get out of this--the air seems bad," breathed Ned at last.
As he spoke a fresh view was thrown on the screen. It showed a groupof life-prisoners at work in the prison-yard. Unlike the otherpictures, this one exhibited the figures at more than life-size. Intheir exaggerated proportions every form showed up clear as print, andthe features of each hard face could be as clearly defined as if thepictured subject was a living being.
The boys had risen to leave, but a sudden exclamation from Herc broughtthem to a sudden halt.
Angry murmurs in Spanish rose about the boys.
"W-what's the matter?" asked Ned in an astonished voice, gazing about.
"Come on, you chump, and let's get out of here. We're blocking theviews of the Cubanolas, or whatever they call themselves; but beforeyou go, look at the two center convicts in that picture. Who do theyremind you of?"
Herc's voice shook with excitement. Ned gazed a few seconds fixedly atthe screen, while the angry hum of protest increased.
"Seat-a down," came voices.
"By the big horn-spoon, those two wearers of stripes are Carl Schultzand his pal, Silas, or I'm a Dutchman," sputtered Ned, as the two boys,having exhausted the patience of the audience seated behind them, beata hasty retreat.