A Sub. of the R.N.R.: A Story of the Great War

  CHAPTER IV.

  A DOUBLE ARREST.

  CAPTAIN RAMSHAW'S next step was to hold a consultation with some ofhis officers as to the advisability of coping with the internal perilthat threatened the ship.

  Accordingly Lymore and Aubyn, as representatives of thedeck-officers, and McBride and Raeburn for the engine-room staff,were called to the captain's cabin. For once that cosily-furnishedapartment reeked of paraffin, for the chief engineer and hisassistant had come practically straight from their work, merelystopping to remove from their faces and hands the greasy black oiland had used paraffin for that purpose.

  "Don't apologize, Mr. McBride," said the "old man" affably."Circumstances alter cases, and it is far preferable to have the reekof honest oil than the fumes of a German shell. Now to get straightto the point: have you a plan, Mr. McBride, whereby we can securethis man of yours, Stone, without occasioning comment amongst hiscomrades; and especially not to alarm the passenger who has takensuch a violent fancy to him?"

  The chief engineer rubbed his chin and knitted his shaggy brows.

  "I can arrange, sir, to have him sent on deck, the miserable worrm.Beyond that, sir, I venture to suggest 'tis a matter for yoursel' tokeep the passenger in the dark."

  "Now, Mr. Lymore, have you made inquiries about the passenger Mr.Aubyn described?"

  "I've interviewed the chief steward, sir. He says that this manregistered as Mr. Duncan McDonald, of Port Elizabeth."

  "There's by far too many of these rascally Germans going about withguid old Scots names," declared McBride vehemently.

  "Quite so," agreed Captain Ramshaw, "but unfortunately we have noevidence to prove that this fellow is a German, except that he spokethe Teuton language. He might be a Britisher after all."

  "He's nae Scot, then," said the chief engineer hotly.

  "I think I can suggest a good plan, sir," said Raeburn.

  "Carry on, then," remarked Captain Ramshaw encouragingly.

  "One of the greasers in my watch--a rattling good fellow--he's madefive trips in the ship, sir--strongly resembles Stone in appearance.If you could arrest Stone and clap him in irons, we could getTretheway, the man I refer to, to impersonate him and lure thisDuncan McDonald----"

  "Steady, laddie; 'tes nae Duncan McDonald," remonstrated McBride.

  "The passenger who goes by the name of McDonald," corrected Raeburn."He could be lured into putting in an appearance. Then we could nabhim, too."

  "It's feasible, certainly," said Captain Ramshaw. "You think you canarrange this?"

  "Yes, sir," replied Raeburn.

  "Very good; then perhaps Mr. Aubyn and you will be at the rendezvousat seven bells. Mr. Aubyn will tell off a couple of hands in theevent of any display of resistance. The man may be armed."

  "We'll take the risk, sir," said Terence.

  "Then that's settled. If you'll send Stone on deck, Mr. McBride, thesooner we have him under arrest the better."

  "And the sooner I'm back in the engine-room the better, I'm thinking,sir," asserted McBride. "Nae doubt the dirty rogue will be up to histricks again while I'm not there tae keep an eye on him."

  A few minutes later Stone, sent under the pretence of fetching somearticle from the bos'un's store, was promptly pounced upon by acouple of quartermasters.

  "What's the game, old sports?" he asked in a strong Cockney accentand with well-feigned innocence.

  His captors made no reply, but led their unresisting prisoner for'ardand placed him in a compartment under lock and key.

  As soon as the greaser's arrest was reported, Chief Officer Lymoreand Aubyn went to inform him of the charge.

  "Attempting to cripple the engines, eh? Strikes me, sir, you're onthe wrong tack," muttered the man.

  "Your fellow-conspirator does not seem to think so," remarked Lymoreat a venture.

  The accused's features flushed, then turned deadly pale.

  "You've got von Eckenhardt, then?" he asked, taken completely aback.

  "Yes, the game's up," assented the chief officer, who, althoughequally astonished, had the presence of mind to entirely conceal hisfeelings.

  "Then I may as well make the best of things. It won't be for long,"declared the prisoner nonchalantly. "Our cruisers will soon makeshort work of the 'Saraband,' and then the boot will be on the otherfoot."

  "Your cruisers?" exclaimed Lymore.

  "Yes; I'm a German subject, Mr. Chief Officer, and don't you forgetit. I demand to receive proper treatment as a prisoner of war."

  "You'd get it, my man, if I had my way," retorted Lymore grimly.

  "Von Eckenhardt!" exclaimed Captain Ramshaw when his subordinatereported the result of their interview. "Then that is the real nameof the so-called Duncan McDonald. It was a cute move of yours, Mr.Lymore."

  The chief officer flushed with pleasure.

  "I presume, sir, we can now arrest him, without waiting till thisevening?"

  "No, we'll stick to our original plan, Mr. Lymore. I have goodreasons."

  During the day the passengers were restricted to a limited portion ofthe decks allotted to the various classes. None were permitted toapproach the 4.7-in. guns. The sight of the ammunition and the gun'screw standing by would occasion comment. A simple excuse was givenfor this restriction, and the passengers accepted it without demur.

  For several hours the wireless was still "jammed." Occasionallymessages were received, but none could be sent. Those that did getthrough were of slight importance and had no reference to the war.

  At noon McBride's strenuous efforts were crowned with success. Theengines were once more in working, order and speed was soon worked upto sixteen knots. A course was immediately shaped for Las Palmas,where the "Saraband" would have to coal before resuming her homewardvoyage.

  Just after four bells (2 p.m.) the wireless resumed uninterruptedactivity. A message asking the name and position of the ship wasrecorded and referred to the bridge. "Ask them what ship is calling,"ordered Captain Ramshaw.

  "H.M.S. 'Padstow,' lat. 5°0'30" N., long. 30°1'15" W. Shape acourse towards me. Enemy cruisers are about," was the reply.

  Captain Ramshaw called for a Navy List. H.M.S. "Padstow" was foundto be a light cruiser of 4600 tons.

  "Very good; I am acting according to your directions," was his answerby wireless, but in reality it was very different. He ordered thecourse to be altered until the "Saraband" would pass three hundredmiles to the eastward of the position given by the supposed Britishcruiser. In addition he gave instructions that no wireless messageswere to be sent from the ship, in order that she might not betray herpresence, for he felt convinced that the call was a decoy sent by oneof the German commerce destroyers.

  During the afternoon the chief steward reported the result of hisobservations upon the pseudo Duncan McDonald. The man, he declared,was a regular "hanger-on" to his fellow-passengers. He seemed tohave plenty of money and squandered it at card-playing. Yet he didnot associate with the German passengers, nor could the stewarddiscover who was the woman that had conferred with McDonald on thenight when Aubyn and Raeburn had him under observation.

  Just before seven bells the arrangements were completed for vonEckenhardt's arrest. Terence and the fourth engineer took up theirpositions in the empty storeroom; two burly quartermasters werehiding just inside the engine-room door, while Tretheway, in theguise of the now detained Stone, was idling in the alley-way.

  Presently von Eckenhardt appeared. Tretheway, keeping his face fromthe light, turned his back upon the approaching German.

  Twice the fellow walked softly past the supposed Stone, then tappinghim on the shoulder said something in German. What it was Trethewaydid not understand, but acting upon instructions he turned andgrasped the Teuton by the wrists. Aubyn and Raeburn dashed from theirplace of concealment and the two quartermasters ran towards the spot.

  Taken wholly at a disadvantage von Eckenhardt at first offered noresistance. He sullenly regarded his captors, without uttering aword. Then, with a sudden effort, he almost w
renched himself clear.

  Raeburn, doubled up by a knee-punch in the wind, subsided heavilyagainst the metal wall of the alley-way. The two quartermasterscannoned into each other in attempting to regain their grip upon thecaptive. Tretheway, hit upon the point of the chin, tripped over thecoaming of the engine-room doorway; while Terence, in spite of avicious kick on the shin, managed to retain his hold upon vonEckenhardt's collar.

  To and fro they swayed, now locked in a deathly embrace. Before thequartermasters could recover their wits, Aubyn and the German toppledover the coaming, and on top of the body of the prostrate Tretheway.

  Inside the door was a slippery steel platform, barely three feet inwidth and protected by a light handrail. To the right and left ironladders led to the floor of the engine-room. Seven feet below theedge of the platform was the piston-head of one of the cylinders--avision of gleaming metal partly veiled by wreathes of eddying steam.

  In an instant Terence realized his adversary's plan. Rather thansubmit to being made a prisoner von Eckenhardt was striving to throwhimself into the midst of the moving machinery. And not only that: hemeant to take one at least of his antagonists with him. He, Terence,was the one singled out for this wholly unwelcome attention.

  In vain Aubyn tried to get a foothold. The slippery iron plateafforded no grip. His arms, locked about the body of the German, wereimprisoned by the fellow's powerful grasp, for although small instature and sparely built, frenzy had given the German the strengthof a Hercules. Suddenly von Eckenhardt planted his feet against theinside sill of the door. With a terrific jerk he hurled himself underthe handrail. Aubyn had just time to bend his partially held wristand grasp the stanchion; then both men dropped over the edgeimmediately above the ponderous machinery.

  There they hung, swaying with the result of the sudden jerk. Aubyn'shand retained his grasp upon the oiled metal stanchion in spite ofthe fact that he was sustaining the weight of himself and another,and that the edge of the platform was pressing cruelly against hisarm. All the while von Eckenhardt, clinging to his antagonist like amonkey, was punching blindly with his disengaged left hand in thehope of making the fourth officer relax his hold.

  It was now that the quartermasters were able to come to the aid oftheir young officer. During the struggle on the platform there was noopportunity for them to intervene--no foothold on that slipperysurface. Raeburn, too, was temporarily "out of action," but by thistime was beginning to take a renewed interest in life.

  One of the quartermasters grasped Aubyn by the collar of his whitedrill uniform coat. Even in his dire peril Terence wondered whetherhis tailor had put good stitches into his work. He fully expected tofind the collar being torn from the rest of the garment.

  Then the second quartermaster helped. Lying at full length on themetal platform he seized the still struggling Eckenhardt by thewaist. Then with a powerful blow with his disengaged fist the manstruck the Teuton full on the temple.

  "Both men dropped over the edge immediately above theponderous machinery."]

  Stunned by the force of the blow the German relaxed his hold. Were itnot for the quartermaster's iron grasp he would have fallen into themaze of machinery.

  "Now's your chance, Tom," exclaimed the man breathlessly. "I'll holdthis chap while you haul up Mr. Aubyn."

  Assisted by Raeburn the first quartermaster succeeded in raisingTerence on the platform and thence into the alley-way. Well-nighexhausted Aubyn was glad to sit down while the others proceeded tosecure the senseless von Eckenhardt.