Don Winslow of the Navy
XV
RED GETS A SHOCK
"Listen, Skipper!" pleaded Lieutenant Pennington, seizing Don Winslow'sarm. "Maybe this guy, Count Borg, isn't nuts; but _I'm_ gonna be if youkeep on doin' and sayin' things that don't make sense! First you get anearful of hot dope from Corba, and start actin' mysterious. Then you getchummy with a dangerous enemy agent. He raves and hollers like a maniac;so you decide he isn't crazy but only thinks he is. Now you unlock hishandcuffs, and tell him what happened to him back in nineteenthirty-three just as if you'd seen it. Have a heart, Skipper! Myanchor's draggin' and I'm goin' aground fast. If you won't tell me...."
"Belay, sailor!" laughed Don. "You'll get the whole yarn in due time.Right now, suppose you go hunt up Michael Splendor and Captain Riggs.Say I'll meet you all in the captain's quarters about fifteen minutesfrom now to talk over something of the highest importance. Tell Mercedesto come along, too."
Nodding glumly, Red Pennington moved to the door.
"I'll tell 'em," he replied. "But you'd better break it to them a loteasier than you've done to me. I'm driftin' onto an uncharted coast, andmy compass has gone sour on me!"
The moment Red had gone, Don Winslow turned to Count Borg.
"There's no time now to explain everything, Count," he said tersely."You must simply take my word for the moment, and believe that we meanto help you out of your present strange predicament. The facts arebriefly these:
"In the past seven years you have been associated with a criminalorganization which threatens the peace of many countries. This morning,you were piloting a plane which was captured with two others, during anattempt to destroy a United States Navy gunboat. You are now aboard thatsame gunboat under arrest for conspiracy."
"But I remember nothing of that!" protested Count Borg, with a look ofkeen distress. "If what you say is true, I must have lost my reason, aswell as my memory, during those years which are now a blank. I am notnaturally a criminal. You must believe that, Commander--er--"
"Winslow," nodded Don. "I am inclined to believe you, Count, and to testyour good faith, I shall ask you to help, so far as you can, in trackingdown your former criminal associates. Are you willing to co-operate withthe Navy in this fight before your case comes to trial?"
"Of course, Commander Winslow!" exclaimed Borg, rising to grasp Don'shand. "I'll be grateful for any chance to undo the damage of thosecriminal years, when I was not myself! But, tell me, what on earth can Ido to help, without a memory?"
"First," answered Don Winslow with an enigmatic smile, "you can shaveoff your moustache!"
In the meantime a curious and impatient group awaited Don Winslow'sappearance in Captain Riggs' cabin. To while away the minutes, Mercedesand Red discussed the recent air battle, and the disappointment of theNavy fliers in arriving too late for the scrap.
"They did accomplish one thing, though," put in Captain Riggs. "That bigbomber they call a flying fortress brought us a couple of new parts forour anti-aircraft guns. The gunner and his mates are mounting them now,so we'll not be helpless against another attack between here andPort-au-Prince. Not that the Scorpion is likely to strike again sosoon!"
"I quite agree with ye, Captain!" said Michael Splendor. "We'll be inport by nightfall, and from there 'tis but a short run by motorcar to myvilla in the hills. Our friends can rest safely there and enjoythemselves, until orders come from Washington.... By the way, did yousay the pilot of that seaplane was called Count Borg?"
"That's what the guy called himself, Mr. Splendor," replied Red,disgustedly. "Don seemed to believe him, but I'd think twice beforetakin' the word of a nut like that. He sure was raving!"
"Was he, now?" murmured the cripple with a sly wink. "Indeed,Lieutenant, I should say a man with a bullet dent in his skull might beexcused for a bit of ravin'. However, if the man is Count Borg, I cantell you something about him. He is one of the aces in Scorpia's evilorganization--a man of great resource and daring and very useful to hischief. I have never seen him, personally, but while I was a captive ofCho-San and his fiendish master, I heard Borg's name mentionedfrequently."
"If he's one of their 'key' men," put in Mercedes, "his capture is goingto put a crimp into the Scorpion's style, isn't it, Mr. Splendor?"
"We've already put quite a crimp into the Scorpion's style, bad 'cess tohim!" snorted the man in the wheel chair. "In the last thirty-six hours,we have seized some of his most valuable inventions, blown up hissubmarine base, arrested three of his agents aboard this ship, foiledhis plans to destroy the _Gatoon_, shot down three of his fast bombingplanes, and captured five members of their crews alive. That does notmean, however, that we have crippled his power for evil! Men andmachines can be replaced, for Scorpia's wealth is immense. No, mefriends! We have struck no vital blow as yet; but I'm thinkin', perhaps,through this Count Borg.... Ah, Commander! I was wonderin' when ye wouldjoin us and tell us what ye've found out."
Turning about, he motioned the newcomer to the empty chair beside thatof Captain Riggs. Red Pennington got up and closed the skylight.Mercedes moved to the other end of the cabin locker beside MichaelSplendor.
"You're pale, Don!" the girl said anxiously, as the tall young officertook his seat. "Are you sure you feel able to be up, with your woundedhead? And your eyes are _queer_! As if you were looking at me for thefirst time in your life!"
"I am!"
The voice which spoke those two words was Don's; yet there was a strangenote in it, which shocked everyone in the cabin to attention.
"You see," it continued hollowly, "I am not Don Winslow!"
"OH!"
Mercedes' shriek cut the horrified silence like a knife. All at once shewas beside the young man, gazing fixedly into his eyes, as if to readthe brain behind them. While the others watched her, fascinated, shestepped slowly back.
"No! No!" she sobbed, covering her face with her hands. "You are notDon. Oh! What right have you...."
"Skipper!" pleaded Red Pennington, laying a hand on his friend'sshoulder. "Come on back to your berth! I was afraid that would get youfeverish.... Captain Riggs, help me take him--"
"WAIT, GENTLEMEN!" cried the young officer rising suddenly to his feet."I am sorry to distress you, but I have been simply obeying orders.Commander Winslow is standing there in the doorway!"
Instinctively all eyes followed his pointing finger, only to stare instark unbelief.
There _could not_ be two Don Winslows. Yet there in the doorway stoodthe young officer's double, complete in every detail. Even the palenessand the white bandage about the temple were reproduced in each figure.
"It's a trick!" cried Captain Riggs hoarsely. "The Scorpion hashypnotized us--or tried to! But there's one way to break any spell!"
Tugging a blunt nosed pistol from his pocket, the _Gatoon's_ masterwould have fired at the man in the doorway, had not Michael Splendordriven his wheel chair between them.
"Stop it, Riggs!" bellowed the gray-haired cripple. "If ye value yourown life, not to mention Commander Winslow's, lower that weapon, sir!Miss Colby is right! The gentleman at the table is a stranger; but theman here beside me is Don Winslow himself, may heaven preserve him!"
Impulsively, both Mercedes and Red had to feel of the real Don's handsand features to make sure he was not a dream figure, as Riggs stillseemed to think. After that, Red stepped across to the man by the table.
"I know you now, mister!" he grinned sheepishly. "You're the one thedoctor was working on in the sick bay. The man who said he was a count!You had a moustache on then."
"Count Borg is my real title, Lieutenant," smiled the other. "CommanderWinslow wished me to impersonate him, in order to test out our strangelikeness. It seems that even our voices are much the same in pitch andtimbre. You see, if I can impersonate _him_ so successfully as to foolhis closest friends, he should be able just as easily to trick those whoknow _me_!"