Don Winslow of the Navy

  XVI

  DANGER AND A WOMAN

  "It was Corba who put me wise to that resemblance," Don told theastonished group after Borg had left. "That radioman is a born traitor,and he's figuring every possible way to cross up his old pals in hope ofgetting in right with us. He suggested that I might use my likeness toCount Borg as a means of spying on Scorpia's activities. It certainlylooks like a hot idea; but I'd want your opinion of it, Mr. Splendor,before going farther with any plans."

  "It will take a bit of study, I can see that," replied the veteranIntelligence man. "But first of all, Commander, why ye think Count Borgis not planning a clever trap for ye? He's too bright a man to be acommon double-crosser like Corba. Mind ye, he has been one of theScorpion's most trusted agents. Considerin' that, it strikes me he fellin with your impersonation scheme a bit too quickly. It's not like himto play traitor to his chief."

  "Which is the very reason I believe he will be loyal to our cause now!"retorted Don, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "You see, Mr. Splendor,our man has been a victim of _amnesia_. The bullet wound he receivedthis morning restored his memory of everything that happened until thenight of April fourteenth, nineteen thirty-three. At that time his skullwas fractured by a thug's blackjack. Of the seven years between then andnow he has not the slightest recollection."

  "Amazin', if true!" muttered the cripple, meeting Don's level look. "Areye sure, Commander, that this _is_ amnesia, and not another clever pieceof actin'? Count Borg is no ordinary man, remember. He'd be quitecapable of plannin' a trick like that from the moment he found himselfaboard ship!"

  "He couldn't fake amnesia well enough to fool an expert," Don pointedout. "Our medical officer happens to have made a special study of braindisorders, and he says this is a genuine case. Doc thinks that Borg'sfirst injury changed his whole character. Recalling little except hisname, the man became an obedient tool of Scorpia. He remembered no otherfriends, no other life; and his naturally keen brain was completely atthe service of his criminal master. Now, of course, he is horrified atthe idea of having been one of that crowd. He wants to make up in someway for the damage he has done as a Scorpion agent."

  "But what luck it would be, Don," put in Mercedes, "if Count Borg_should_ start to remember his life as one of Scorpia's aces! He mightgive us enough information to clean up the entire organization in oneswoop. Of course that sort of luck is too good to be real!"

  "I'm afraid it is, my dear," said Splendor. "However, I think we have achance of getting most, if not all, of the evidence we need, thanks tothis resemblance between Don Winslow and his captive. Do ye recall thecode message we discovered at the submarine base--the one which Corbalater stole from your stateroom, Commander? Well, I had themaster-at-arms search all five of our new prisoners before ye were ondeck this mornin'. And every last one of them had the same code messagetucked away in his clothing! Ye see what that means?"

  "Hmmm! It looks as if the Scorpion were calling all his forces togetherat San Francisco for some big job, if you ask me," Don answered soberly."That would be the very thing to get in on--a general conference ofScorpia's operatives. If I got out of it alive, we'd have enoughevidence to hamstring the organization's power for years to come!"

  "That's all very well, gentlemen," growled Captain Riggs, picking up hishat, "but I believe you're going to find some pretty big difficulties inthe way. Unless Borg recovers his memory and gives you the Scorpiapasswords, not to mention a lot of other information, I fear yourdisguise won't get you very far, Commander. You'll excuse me if I leaveyou now to take my watch on deck!"

  With a brusque nod the _Gatoon's_ master closed the cabin door behindhim. Mercedes looked across at Don, her eyes dark with anxiety.

  "I'm afraid Captain Riggs is right about that," she said. "Oh, Don, Ihope you'll not attempt anything so risky as to pass yourself off forthe count! There are a thousand details on which your ignorance wouldtrip you!"

  "There's a way out of that difficulty, Skipper," spoke up RedPennington. "Suppose we give out a story that Borg has escaped. Actuallyof course, he'll stay in plain sight dressed in your uniform. You'll bethe one who disappears and shows up in San Francisco as Count Borg.You'll pretend that your memory is partly blacked out by your head woundand that will account for any slips you make, like forgetting people andpasswords that Borg used to know."

  "Great stuff, sailor!" cried Don Winslow, leaping up to pound Redenthusiastically on the back. "That story will have enough truth in itto convince the most suspicious Scorpion operatives. What do you thinkof it, Mr. Splendor?"

  The man in the wheel chair wagged his gray head.

  "'Tis a clever plan--very clever indeed," he admitted. "As a matter offact, I can think of only one person in Scorpia's ranks whom it wouldnot fool. When I was stationed in San Francisco it was reported that acertain beautiful young girl was in love with Count Borg...."

  "A woman!" cried Mercedes Colby. "That tears it, Don! Remember, I wasthe only one of us who knew that Count Borg was not you? A woman'sinstinct will tell her the truth, in spite of the most perfect disguise.If you meet this girl, as you surely will, she'll know you're not herlover. By the way, what is her name, Mr. Splendor?"

  "They call her the Lotus," chuckled the gray-haired cripple. "Some saythat she is part Chinese, others that she is of pure white blood,brought up by Chinese who kidnapped her in infancy. All agree that sheis very lovely and _very_ clever having been trained by Cho-Sanhimself."

  "Then she is all the more dangerous!" Mercedes protested. "Please, Don!Give up this wild notion of putting yourself into Scorpia's power, forthat is just what you would be doing! You might be able to disguise youridentity from men, but never from a woman in love!"

  "Maybe," suggested Red Pennington, "this gal Lotus isn't in love withCount Borg any more. A lot of things have happened since you werestationed in 'Frisco, Mr. Splendor. And a dame like that _could_ changeher mind, you know."

  "Sure, 'tis entirely possible, Lieutenant," the older man agreed. "I'llthink over the whole proposition between now and the time we drop anchorin Port-au-Prince. On the way to my villa in the mountains we can talkagain, me friends. Will that suit you?"

  "It ought to, Mr. Splendor!" smiled Mercedes rising from her chair. "Inthe meantime, Don and Red are going to rest undisturbed, if I have tostand guard at the door. After swimming all night and fighting allmorning, they've got to get some sleep!"

  With sleepy grins, the two young officers steered obediently for theirstateroom. Tumbling into their berths, clothes and all, they knewnothing more until the cabin steward called them for mess that evening.

  The ship had already dropped anchor in the harbor of Port-au-Prince, andDon and his friends were eager to go ashore at the first possiblemoment. After a hastily eaten meal, they shook hands with the _Gatoon's_officers, and stepped into the gunboat's launch.

  At the dock Splendor's pilot, Panama, met them with a powerful car. Forten minutes they dodged and twisted through the city's quaint oldstreets, then struck into a fine, smooth road leading toward the hills.

  "Ah, me friends," sighed Michael Splendor, as the big twelve cylindercar picked up speed, "'tis great to be gettin' home again after the lastfew days of excitement! I'm well along in years now, and risks are notso thrilling as they used to be. I'd rather be sittin' by me ownfireplace in peace and comfort."

  Panama's amused chuckle drifted back from the front seat.

  "You didn't act that way, sir, when you were slamming bullets into thosetwo Scorpion bombers!" he observed. "And when some of their slugs rippedinto us, it just made you all the happier--to judge by what I heard!"

  "Whisht, lad!" growled the veteran, scowling ferociously. "'Twas naughtbut the Irish blood of me enjoyin' the scrap. A true son of Erin alwayshowls when he fights; but me brain was tellin' me all the while that waris a horrible business, even when you're fightin' to stop it. And thatreminds me, Commander! I've made certain arrangements to further yourscheme f
or impersonatin' Count Borg!"