Dave Darrin and the German Submarines Part 19

Ensign Phelps, who was a bit more than an amateur handwriting expert, came at request and scanned both papers. Then he went out, returning with a magnifying gla.s.s with which he examined both writings.

"Of course the two different styles of script make the comparison difficult," Mr. Phelps declared. "Still, I am certain a better qualified expert than I will say that the same hand executed both writings."

"Then Jordan's last chance is gone, I'm afraid," replied Dave gravely, as he took the two sheets and filed them carefully in the safe. "Before, there was a chance for Jordan to get off at his trial by court-martial, for, while Seaman Ferguson was morally certain that Jordan dropped the bottle overboard, he would not be able to swear positively to it. If this note given by him to Reardon, however, proves Jordan of being the writer of both sheets, then his conviction as a traitor looks pretty certain. Phelps, these are the most serious days in the history of our great country. If any man in the American uniform is a traitor to our Flag and cause, then I want to see him punished."

"That would mean death at the hands of a firing squad," mused Ensign Phelps.

"Death before a firing squad," Darrin a.s.sented gravely. "It is the only punishment for such a crime!"

CHAPTER XII

DAVE HUNTS A BIGGER FIGHT

Of much less beam for her length than the average yacht, the "Logan" was rolling from side to side at a dizzy angle when Dave Darrin, after a nap of an hour and a half in the chart-room, turned out.

The wind had freshened; spray dashed over the decks and water flooded the scuppers. Every now and then a spurt of water raced across the bridge as the destroyer heeled over in that roughening sea.

Dave had pulled on his rubber boots, strapping the hip extensions high up. His sheepskin coat was fastened up tightly under his chin, and the collar turned up over the lower part of the knitted helmet that he drew over his head.

Thus covered and concealed until his mother would not have known him had she encountered him unexpectedly, Dave stepped out on deck, clumsily clambering the steps to the bridge, one hand holding tightly to the hand-rail. Dalzell was up there, standing not far from Lieutenant Curtin. Forward, up in the bow, looking half drowned, paced an ensign whose night gla.s.s was not long at any time from his eyes.

On the superstructure amids.h.i.+ps another officer paced, and still another on the deck astern.

There was little sleep for any officer. Not one of them but was aware that at any instant the lurking foe might strike, and then would begin a desperate, tragic game of blind man's buff over the slas.h.i.+ng, spray-topped waves.

A shaded light threw a confined ray on the bridge compa.s.s. Dave barely glanced at this latter instrument, for had not Dan been there while the young commander slept?

"Nothing seen, sir; some signals-that's all," was Dalzell's terse report.

No grin appeared on Dan's face now. It had been a tense vigil for him.

"Go below and get some sleep," urged Dave.

"Don't need any," Dalzell declared stubbornly.

"It's an order, then, Mr. Dalzell," Dave answered briefly.

Grumbling, Dan took a final look into the night, then slowly clambered down the steps.

"I'm aware, sir, that an attack may be tried at any minute," said Lieutenant Curtin, "but don't you believe that it will be postponed until after daylight?"

"Yes," Darrin made reply. "And if we're to have an attack between here and port, I'd rather have it to-night. Neither troops.h.i.+p nor destroyer is showing lights, so the Huns couldn't use their periscopes. They might, of course, use their sound devices, and launch torpedoes towards the sources of sounds, but that's a clumsy and wasteful way of torpedoing an enemy. Attacking on a night like this, the only sure way would be for them to come to the surface. That would give us an ideal chance. With searchlights playing in every direction we'd pick up a lot of the submarines and hit them within the first minute and a half. No; unless for the novelty of the thing, the German commander won't risk a night attack. Results for him are more certain just after dawn. I believe, as much as I believe anything, that the enemy's submersibles are now waiting for us at the point where they figure that we will be at dawn."

"It will be great to meet them at their convenience," remarked Curtin, after a pause of a few minutes. "After what we did to them yesterday forenoon we know how we can rush some of 'em to the bottom, and leave the rest so far astern that they'd have to come to the surface to overtake our troop-s.h.i.+ps."

"We know what we did, but we don't know that we can do it again," Darrin retorted. "The greatest mistake that we can make is to become over-confident. That never pays when dealing with any enemy, and least of all when the Hun is the enemy. We got away yesterday, Curtin, but has it struck you that we may have met the inferior half of the underseas fleet that the enemy has concentrated against us? Yesterday forenoon's work may have been play compared with the job that has been cut out for us. The surest way to lose a few destroyers, a few transports and thousands of soldiers and sailors, is for the naval officers with this fleet to let their confidence get the better of their alertness. Even in spite of our utmost watchfulness and best work, we may lose five thousand American lives before we reach port."

"Maybe our country would fight better hereafter if we did," muttered the younger officer. "A loss like that would serve to rouse Americans rather than to kill their fighting instinct."

"But confidence in the Navy would be largely gone," Dave rejoined. "At present the folks at home are whooping up the Navy. That's because we've had such fine luck so far. Let us lose several thousand soldiers at sea and then see how much our home people would boost for the Navy. We're judged by the goods we deliver in the form of results."

Not all of this had been said in continuous conversation, for not once did either officer remove his gaze from the black waters around them.

Dave and his junior officer had spoken by s.n.a.t.c.hes as they came together.

Off to starboard, several hundred yards, the dimly defined shape of a huge transport appeared. The transport ahead of her, and the one behind her, had to be located by judgment rather than by vision.

"A fellow cannot help getting nervous out here-I mean nervous for the transports," said Lieutenant Curtin, ten minutes later. "Before you came up, sir, there was a time when neither Mr. Dalzell nor I could see that nearest troops.h.i.+p at all."

"Did you change your course?" asked Dave, with a smile.

"No, sir; I knew we must be right, for we had followed the course to a fine line. But it was uncanny, just the same-the knowledge that we must guard the transports, combined with the belief that they had slipped miles away."

"Before you came across to this side of the ocean, Mr. Curtin, you were inclined to be a bit stout, weren't you?" Dave quizzed.

"Nineteen pounds over weight, sir."

"Cheer up! You won't grow fat during this war."

"I don't care about loss of sleep, or anything," declared the junior officer, earnestly. "I believe that I could get along without sleep, except when in port, if we could range the seas with a daily average of one enemy submarine sunk."

"If you could do that, and the other destroyers did anything at all,"

laughed Darrin, "the seas would soon be as safe as they were in 1913."

"Do you remember that time, sir, a month ago, when we answered an S. O.

S. call and arrived in time to jump at a submarine engaged in sh.e.l.ling the small boats that were pulling away from the wrecked Norwegian steamer?"

"Yes."

"We missed that infernal Hun. He got away, and I am certain that I didn't sleep a real wink in the next twenty-four hours."

"Take things more easily," Dave advised. "Do your best, Curtin, and then if the Hun boat gets away, take it out in chuckling over the big scare you gave the enemy officers and crew. That's the way I do."

Calling the officer amids.h.i.+ps on the deck to take a turn on the bridge with Lieutenant Curtin, Dave, after receiving the engine-room report over the bridge telephone, went on a swift but thorough tour of inspection. Dark as it was, he discovered that the breech mechanism of one of the forward guns was not oiled to his fancy. Three or four other slight oversights he found, and promptly rapped out orders to remedy the faults.

"In a campaign like this," he told Ensign Carter, tersely, "there can be no knowing at what moment we shall be called upon to fight for our lives, nor how many seconds of fatal delay may be caused by any lacking detail. Constant inspection is the only way to be certain that one is up to fighting mark. Inspection is not enough when made only by commander and executive officer. 'Inspection' should be engraved on the brain of every watch and division officer."

Dave glanced at the chronometer in the chart-room on his way to the bridge, and knew that the first streaks of dawn should appear in the east in fifteen minutes. Sending the relieving officer back to his station amids.h.i.+ps, Darrin resumed his bridge vigil.

First signs of dawn came in due time. The light gained in strength until the long line of the transport fleet stood revealed, extending back further than the eye could see. Obeying signals, some of the destroyers stood further out from their charges and then raced on ahead to inspect that portion of the sea which must very soon be traversed.

"If we don't run into something before the middle of the forenoon," Dave confided to Dan, who now reappeared on the bridge after a short rest, "I shall feel easier. The nearer we draw to land the more help is likely to be afloat near us."

Just then a boom came over the water. A gun of one of the foremost trio of destroyers had spoken. Swiftly the signals came back.

Dave gave the order to have all hands sounded to quarters.