CHAPTER XXIX.

  INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH.

  "That's queer, Rob!"

  "What's queer, Merritt, the way you've been sitting and staring for thelast ten minutes?"

  "No; that odd noise. Don't you hear it?"

  The two lads were seated in the cabin of the submarine on "night guardduty," as it was called. Following the anxious days when Berghoff hadmade affairs on the island so filled with uneasiness for the Scouts andtheir friends, this sentry duty had been regularly maintained.

  On this particular night the task had fallen to Rob and Merritt. Therewas nothing very arduous about it, the only duty involved being to keepears and eyes open. Both lads had been engrossed in books dealing withtheir favorite subjects when Merritt called Rob's attention to the oddsound he had noticed.

  "Maybe my ears are not quite so sharp as yours, old boy," said Rob,after an interval of listening. "I've got a slight cold, anyhow, andperhaps that's why I don't hear so readily."

  "Possibly so."

  "You are sure you weren't mistaken?"

  "Think I'm hearing things?" indignantly responded Merritt. "No, siree,I'm willing to bet. Hark! There it is again!"

  "By Hookey! I heard it that time, too. What can it be?"

  "Hush!"

  The noise was a most peculiar one. It seemed to be a sort of scraping onthe outside of the submarine's hull. The diving craft was anchored atsome distance from the shore, so as to be more readily prepared for aprojected run the following day. This made the noise all the moreinexplicable, as, had the craft been in the shed, it might have beencaused by the inventor or the ensign paying a night visit to see thatall was well, which they sometimes did.

  "Perhaps it's a log bumping against the side."

  "No; it appears to come from under the water."

  "That's so," agreed Rob; "tell you what, Merritt, it's up to us toinvestigate."

  "Yes, let's go on deck and see what we can find out."

  Together the two lads climbed the steel stairway leading to the conningtower, and presently emerged on the rounded steel back of the divingcraft. They stood here for a minute or two, trying to get their eyesused to the sudden change from the bright light of the cabin to the inkydarkness of the night. It was overcast and starless, and it wasimpossible under any condition to see more than a few yards about them.

  Suddenly Rob clasped Merritt's arm with a grip that made the other ladwince.

  "Look! Look there!" he cried. "Off there. It's gone now. It only showedup for an instant."

  "It's your turn to be nervous," rejoined Merritt; "blessed if I sawanything!"

  "My eyes must be as sharp as your ears, then. I'd swear I saw a shadowything sneak away from us across the water."

  "What sort of a thing?"

  "A boat. I only saw it an instant, of course; but I'm sure I wasn'tmistaken."

  "You think that somebody in that boat was monkeying with the_Peacemaker_?"

  "That's the only reasonable explanation."

  "But what could they have been doing?"

  "That remains to be seen; but it's our duty to try to find out."

  "What's your plan?"

  "Well, that scraping noise appeared to me to come from the under side ofthe hull."

  "Yes."

  "Then that's the place to look for mischief."

  "But how are you going to get at it?"

  "Dive over and feel around at about the place where we heard the sound."

  "That was on the port side and apparently right under the cabin floor."

  "Then that's the place to look."

  As he spoke, the young leader of the Eagles stripped off his shirt, forthe night was warm and he was coatless, and then divested himself inturn of his shoes and trousers.

  This done, he turned to Merritt.

  "I don't know just why, old fellow," he said, "but I've got an idea inmy head, somehow, that there's some sort of dirty trick being put upto-night."

  "What do you mean?"

  Merritt asked the question looking into his comrade's eyes as he claspedRob's extended hand. For some reason he felt a cold shudder run throughhim. What the danger was that Rob dreaded he did not know, but therewas something in the hand-shake that his leader gave him that almostseemed like a farewell clasp.

  Before his inquiry was fairly out of Merritt's mouth, Rob had disengagedhis palm and slipped silently over the side of the submarine. As thewaters closed above him, Merritt almost cried out aloud. The samemysterious sense of a danger, terrible and imminent, had run through hisbrain like a warning flash. But it was too late to recall his comradenow.

  Whatever peril Rob was facing, he was called upon to brave it out alone.

  * * * * *

  Earlier that evening a small, but fast and high-powered motor boat hadglided almost silently out of Bellport, a fishing village on the coast,and, waiting till darkness had descended, made at top speed for thevicinity of the submarine island.

  The men who had chartered the craft were two in number. Both werestrangers in Bellport, having driven over there that afternoon from theadjacent railway station of Farmington. One was an old man,stoop-shouldered and bleary-eyed. The other was an individual of aboutthirty, tall, emaciated, and with a wild light dancing in his craftyeyes, which darted back and forth as if constantly on the lookout forsomething.

  Going directly to the Bellport Hotel, they had inquired of EnosHardcastle, the proprietor, where they could hire a motor boat.

  "A fast one?" croaked the old man.

  "The faster the better," supplemented his companion, in a queer, raspingvoice.

  Enos scratched his head.

  "Wa'al, motor boat's is scarce around here, though some of ther boysuses 'em in fishing," he said finally.

  "Good!" exclaimed the younger of the pair of strangers. "Direct us tothe man who has the fastest one."

  "That's Lem Higgins; but Lem drives a hard bargain. It'll cost ye----"

  "Never mind the cost; never mind the cost," croaked the old manimpatiently. "Come, Ivan, let's find this Higgins."

  "You go ter ther foot of this street and you'll find Lem down on therwharf," directed the landlord of the Bellport Hotel, whose curiosity wasby this time aroused. There was something odd about the two strangers,almost as odd as the large black bag the younger one carried. Thisreceptacle he held as gingerly as if it contained some article of themost fragile description.

  "Beg pardon, strangers," spoke up Enos, "but what might you be afterhavin' in that bag?"

  The slender man turned a pair of blazing orbs on him.

  "What business is that of yours?" he snapped out, his queer eyesappearing to emit sparks of malignant fury.

  Enos hastened to extend the olive branch.

  "Oh, no harm, no harm," he hurriedly exclaimed. "I thought thet you twomight be sellin' suthin' the wife 'ud have a use fer, thet's all. Wantedto give you a chancet ter drive a trade."

  "I reckon your wife wouldn't care much for what's in this bag," snarledthe old man viciously; "and let me give you a bit of advice, my friend:Don't ask questions and you'll be told no lies."

  So saying, the two oddly assorted strangers made off down the street,the tall one still carrying the black bag with precise care.

  Enos reentered his hotel, wagging his head sententiously.

  "Suthin' queer about them two fellers," he muttered to himself; "ain'tsellin' nuthin' an' they don't look as if they was on a pleasure trip.Wa'al, it's none of my business, but if Lem makes a dicker with 'emhe'll hev ter come across to me with a commission, an' that's all I careabout."

  Lem Higgins was sitting on the wharf, swinging his legs and regardingwith interest an imminent fight between two dogs of the "yaller"variety, when the old man and his tall companion came up.

  "Your name is Lem Higgins?" asked the old man sharply.

  "That's what they usually say when they want me," responded Lem. "Do youwant me?"

  "We want your boat."

  Lem's eyes l
ightened. Fishing had been poor, and perhaps here was achance to make some easy money. He scrambled to his feet, showingunusual animation.

  "You want my boat? You want ter hire her, you mean?"

  "Yes. What's your figure?"

  The old man was doing all the talking now. His tall companion stoodsilently by. At his side was the black bag, which he had deposited onthe ground with the same curious care that had marked all his dealingswith the mysterious article.

  Lem ruminated a minute, looked seaward, ejected a small fountain oftobacco juice, and then asked, with his head cocked on one side:

  "Where might you be a-goin'?"

  "Never mind that, my friend. That is none of your business."

  The old man spoke sharply. Lem regarded him blankly.

  "None o' my business! Then how in Sam Hill am I a-goin' ter run theboat?"

  "You are not going to run it."

  "I ain't, eh?"

  Lem was all "taken back," as he would have put it. He had been figuringon a good price for the hire of the boat and a further fee for himselfas skipper. Certainly neither of the pair before him looked capable ofhandling a power boat.

  "No; if we take your boat we shall run it ourselves."

  "You will?"

  The astonished Lem gazed at the stooped figure before him. He was almostbereft of words.

  "Yes, I will; does that satisfy you?"

  "Wa'al, I'll be plumb dummed," choked out the fisherman; "I should thinkyou'd know more about crutches an' arm-chairs than about runninggasoline boats."

  "Your opinion is not of the slightest interest to me. How much do youwant for the boat?"

  "Fer how long?"

  "From about sunset till daylight to-morrow."

  "Fer all night, you mean?"

  "Yes."

  "That's a queer time to go out."

  "Possibly; but we choose to do it. If you don't want to let your boat,say so, and have done with it. We'll find another."

  "Oh, as far as thet's consarned, ef you kin run her I don't mind ef yougo out any old time. But I'd like ter see ef you kin, afore we go anyfurther."

  "Where is she?"

  "Right out there. I'll row you out to her. Come on down this ladder;easy, now. You're pretty old for this sort of work."

  But, despite the old man's apparent decrepitude, he stepped down thesteep and rather rickety ladder, at the foot of which lay a dory, withthe agility of a youth. His companion declared that he would remain onthe dock.

  Guessing that he didn't want to leave the bag, of which he seemed socareful, Lem hailed him.

  "Come on and bring your grip, ef ye scared o' leavin' it," he said.

  But the other shook his head, and Lem pulled out toward his launch withonly the old man as passenger. The launch was a black, rakish-lookingcraft, and once on board the old man expressed approval of the powerful,two-cylindered engine with which she was equipped.

  "Say, you do know suthin' about ingines, don't yer?" admired Lem, aftera few sharp questions had shown him that the queer old man really knewwhat he was talking about.

  A muttered grunt was the only reply. The old man was spinning thefly-wheel over, after making a few adjustments of the gasoline and sparksupply. A moment later the motor was sputtering and coughing, and thelaunch was struggling at her moorings.

  Lem cast off and ran the craft about the harbor for a while. At theconclusion of the test he was satisfied that the old man actually didunderstand the workings of gasoline motors. Returning to the wharf, itonly remained for a bargain to be struck, and this was speedily done.But Lem still held out for something more.

  "Seein' as I don't know you an' you're takin' ther boat out alone, Iought ter hev a deposit or suthin'," he declared, his eyes narrowing.

  "What's your boat worth?" demanded the old man.

  "Wa'al, I paid a thousand fer her," rejoined Lem, who had only doubledthe actual sum the launch cost him.

  "Here you are."

  The old man reached into a recess of his black coat and produced a rollof currency, which Lem later declared to his cronies would have "chokeda horse." Rapidly peeling off several bills of large denomination, hepaid the exorbitant deposit, plus the price agreed upon for the hire ofthe boat for the night. Lem, too astonished to do more than stutter,pocketed the money without a word.

  "One thing more," said the old man; "we shall need a small boat to towalong."

  "Oh, then yer goin' ter land some place?"

  Lem, having recovered the use of his voice, had also regained his ruralcuriosity.

  The old man regarded him angrily, and then, in his peculiar, snarlingvoice, he whipped out:

  "What's that to you? We've paid you too much for your boat, and you knowit. Here's fifty dollars more. That's not to ask any questions and notto answer any."

  "Oh, I'll keep mum," Lem assured him, pocketing the extra money withsparkling eyes. "When you're ready to go, I'll have a small boat readyfor you, never fear."

  "Good. We'll be here at five o'clock sharp."

  The old man and his companion sauntered off up the street. Lem watchedthem till they entered the Bellport Hotel. Then, to himself, heexclaimed in tones that fairly burst out of him:

  "Wa'al, what d'ye know about that? Them chaps is either lunatics ormillionaires, or both. Wa'al, it's none of my affair, an' there might bethings I wouldn't do for fifty dollars, but keepin' my mouth shut for awhile ain't one of 'em. What a yarn I'll have ter tell when them twochaps gets out of town! Kain't get over thet old feller, though. Fer allhis years, he's spry as a boy; suthin' mighty funny about both on 'em."

  With this, Lem resumed his seat on the edge of the wharf and dismissedthe matter from his mind as far as was possibly consistent with theknowledge of the--to him--gigantic sum reposing in his blue jeans.

  Yet, had he known it, he was letting slip through his fingers thepossibility of earning a far larger sum. For the man with the queer eyeswas Ivan Karloff, a notorious anarchist, for whom a reward of fivethousand dollars was offered, following a bomb outrage in New York, andhis companion was Berghoff himself.

  What were these two men doing in Bellport? Why did they want a fast boatfor a mysterious night trip?

  The answers to these questions would have held a burning interest forour friends on the submarine island. Like a vicious snake, Berghoff waspreparing to strike what he hoped would be a vital blow at the_Peacemaker_ and her guardians. Crafty and unscrupulous, he had investedin his services Ivan Karloff, whose price for dangerous undertakingswas high, but whose skill in his nefarious line of endeavor was supreme.

  It was about midnight when Lem Higgins' motor boat crept up to a spotnot far from where the _Peacemaker_ lay at anchor. Behind her she towedthe promised small boat. Berghoff, as we must now call the old man, wasat the engines. His companion was steering.

  "Is this near enough?" inquired Karloff, in a low tone, as Berghoffslowed up the engines.

  "Yes. We want to run no chances. It would not be pleasant for either ofus to be nipped now."

  No more words were exchanged till the anchor was noiselessly let drop.

  Then Berghoff spoke.

  "Have you got everything?"

  "Yes; it's all in the bag--the wire, the batteries, and all. Wonder whatthose farmers would have done if they could have guessed what else wehad in there?"

  "Gone through the ceiling, I reckon," chuckled Berghoff grimly; "butcome on, let's get to work. We may have a long job to find thesubmarine."

  "Yes, and we've no time to lose. After the job's done the quicker we putthe Atlantic between us and Uncle Sam, the better," was the reply.

  "You're not nervous, are you?"

  "Nervous! My friend, I have done more dangerous jobs than this."

  Depositing the bag carefully in the small boat, the two men rowed off.They made absolutely no noise as they proceeded, the reason for thisbeing that the oars had been carefully muffled soon after they leftBellport, and felt free from observation.

  After ten minutes or so of rowing,
Berghoff laid a hand on hiscompanion's arm.

  "What is it?" asked Karloff, who was rowing.

  "Look right ahead. What's that?"

  "The glow of a light. Can that be it?"

  "It must be. That light is reflected from the conning tower. There issomebody on board."

  "That matters not, if they are not on deck. Even so, we can take care ofthem."

  "You mean to hurl it?"

  "Yes; but I'd rather fasten it to the craft itself. It's safer for usand more effective."

  A diabolical grin stole over the anarchist's face as he spoke. Heresumed his cautious rowing.

  "There's no one on deck," declared Berghoff, as they crept closer to thedark outlines of the anchored submarine.

  "Good; then we can do our work quickly. Have you everything ready?"

  "Yes; we'll be alongside in a minute. Don't make a failure of it."

  "I have never failed yet," was the quiet reply, spoken in a voice somenacing and evil that it would have caused a shudder to run through anyone less hardened than the man to whom it was addressed.

  Rob flashed to the surface after a longer interval than Merritt wouldhave believed it possible for anybody to remain submerged. As heappeared, Merritt rushed to aid him upon the slippery deck of the_Peacemaker_.

  Rob shook his head, as Merritt tried to draw him up. Instead, he chokedout:

  "A pair of pliers. Quick! Our lives depend upon it."

  Merritt, who had been working on the engine, happened to have therequired tool in his pocket. Without a word, he handed it to Rob. Fromhis leader's manner he knew that down there under the water the boy haddiscovered some deadly hidden peril. Breathlessly, he watched for hisreappearance, for the instant he received the pliers Rob had dived.

  * * * * *

  In the rowboat which they had towed out from Bellport, Berghoff and hiscompanion sat bending over some object. Had it been daylight it couldhave been seen that this object was a battery box.

  Also, daylight would have revealed Berghoff's face as being white anddrawn under his disguise; but his companion's evil countenance neverchanged an iota, as his long fingers sought and found the button of thebattery box which lay before him on a thwart.

  From this box two wires led off into the darkness. When the button waspressed a flash of electricity would pass through those wires and theclimax of a fiendishly ingenious plot would be reached. In the tensesilence that preceded the pressing of the button, Berghoff's breathcould be heard coming gaspingly. His companion, on the other hand,appeared as cool as an icicle.

  "Are you certain we are far enough away?" stammered Berghoff.

  "Absolutely. I have no desire to be hoisted by my own petard. Now then,if you are ready, say the word."

  "I--I----" stammered Berghoff.

  "Bah! You are a coward; come, I am all ready."

  "I don't mind the submarine, curse it; but it's the thought of the liveson board her."

  "My friend, you are too sensitive. Come, are you ready?"

  "Ye-es," choked out Berghoff, his teeth chattering, and the sweatpouring off his face. The man was shaking like a leaf, and his breathcame raspingly from between his half-opened lips.

  "Now!"

  He steeled himself to utter the signal firmly, but it was merely a harshwhisper that issued from his dry throat.

  The long fingers pressed down. Berghoff, swaying like a stricken thing,placed his hands before his eyes. But the sound that both had beenexpecting did not come. No roaring explosion followed the pressing ofthe button, no flash of livid flame and shattering of the wonderfulstructure of steel they had hoped to destroy. A death-like stillnessprevailed.

  "You've failed!" choked out Berghoff.

  His companion's eyes flashed in the darkness like a cat's. He swallowedconvulsively.

  "There is only one explanation," he snarled.

  "And that is?"

  "That they have discovered the mine. My friend, we had better be leavingas soon as possible. It will not be good for us to be found in thisvicinity."

  At that very moment two boys were standing with horror-stricken eyes onthe deck of the submarine. In his hands Rob held a peculiar lookingcylinder of steel. From one end of it hung two severed wires. It was soweighted and balanced as to float a distance of about five feet underthe surface of the water.

  "If I hadn't found those wires and cut them," Rob said, in anawe-stricken voice.

  But Merritt did not answer. He could only clasp his companion's hand.The realization of the fearfully narrow limit by which they had escapeddeath almost overcame him. The night was hot, but both boys shivered asif stricken with the ague. It was some minutes before they could givethe alarm to those on shore. Then the rapid blowing of the whistle usedby the submarine when on the surface signalled their companions.

  Some fifteen minutes later two pale-faced, wild-eyed lads wereexplaining to an absorbed group the foiling of the diabolical plotagainst Uncle Sam's diving boat. It was not long after, that thesubmarine was rushing through the water for the nearest harbor.

  "If we can arouse the police along the coast we may yet be able tocapture the authors of this outrage," exclaimed the ensign, as at fullspeed the _Peacemaker_ clove through the waters.

  "Yes; it's hardly probable that they had as swift a boat as this,"agreed Mr. Barr. "If we can get ashore ahead of them, we can cause apolice net to be spread that they can scarcely break through."

  But it was decreed that the fate of Berghoff and his companion should bea different one. Suddenly, off to port of the _Peacemaker_, the nightwas split by a roar and a red flash of flame.

  "Great Scott! What was that?" gasped out Ensign Hargreaves.

  "The searchlight--quick!" cried Mr. Barr.

  In an instant the great beam of white light was cutting the night like afiery sword. Suddenly its rays concentrated on a dark object not fardistant from the _Peacemaker_.

  Within the radiant circle was limned a strange picture. Two men werestruggling in the water, while beside them the outline of a boat showedfor an instant and then vanished forever.

  At top speed the _Peacemaker_ was rushed to the scene. She reached it intime for those on board to see one of the two men struggling in thewater throw up his arms. The next instant, with a shuddering cry, thatmight have been either defiance or agony, he vanished as had the boat.

  The other man was picked up. He was an old man, seemingly, and almostexhausted from his struggle with the waves. But, as he was being draggedon board, a strange thing occurred. The salt water, with which he wasdrenched, had likewise soaked his beard and hair. As he was hauled overthe sloping deck of the submarine his beard and hair slipped away, andthere before them lay Berghoff, seemingly dead or dying.

  As soon as they had recovered from their amazement, he was carried belowand made as comfortable as possible; for it was found that he wasshockingly burned. The chart was consulted, and it was reckoned thatBellport was the closest place at which to land. And so it came about,that Berghoff--or the wreck of the man--was brought back to the veryspot from which he and his ill-fated companion had set out on theirdiabolical trip.

  Under close police guard the injured man was carried to the localhospital, and with his first conscious breath he cried aloud forKarloff. He was told of the man's fate, and then made a full confessionof the plot to blow up the submarine. As for the accident that haddestroyed their own craft, he explained that Karloff, stooping to lighta cigarette, had ignited some leaked gasoline in the bilge. In a flashthe flames had reached the fuel tank, and an explosion that ripped theboat apart followed.

  For days the man lingered in the hospital, apparently contrite andsuffering great pain. But one night a drowsy nurse and an open windowaided him in a plan of escape that must have formed itself in his mindsome time before. In a weak voice he begged his police guard to get hima drink of water. When the man came back, Berghoff had gone. Nor was heever heard of again. Whether he managed in some way to communicate withhis friends, or whet
her he gained financial resources to aid his escapeby robbery or other means, will never be known.

  "Wa'al, I'm glad I stuck to that thousand," said Lem Higgins, when heheard of the escape. "I'll git another boat now."

  * * * * *

  And so ends the tale of the Boy Scouts' services for Uncle Sam. Ofcourse, they remained on the island till the conclusion of the tests.But they were molested no more, and so far as they were concernedBerghoff and his evil designs ceased to exist. Their experiences hadproved of much value to them, and broadened and developed theircharacters to a marked extent.

  We shall meet our friends and fellow Scouts again in a succeeding volumeof this series, for strong, healthy lads like these cannot seem to helpmeeting with adventures. When they face them in the true Scout spirit,that of bravery mixed with brains, it is a combination hard to beat.This new volume will be called "THE BOY SCOUTS AT THE PANAMA CANAL," andwill relate their experiences at the "Big Ditch," that remarkableengineering achievement that is holding the interest and attention ofthe entire world. The book will contain authentic photographs of thecanal in process of construction and include accurate descriptions ofthe engineering feats.

  THE END.