CHAPTER IX.
THE SECRET WIRELESS.
Upon regaining the "Lonette," Aubyn descended into the diminutive cabin and made hasty preparations for his adventure. Unbuttoning his great-coat he drew a small revolver from the inside breast pocket of his monkey-jacket. Assuring himself that it was fully loaded, the sub. thrust it into the right-hand pocket of his outer garment, then, having readjusted his muffler, rebuttoned his coat, so that the turned-up collar hid the white woollen comforter.
He felt justified in making the attempt. During his brief visit to the trawler the lack of oil from the broken lamps had first aroused his suspicions. Secondly, he had made the discovery that the foremast, although painted to resemble pitch-pine, was made of metal, and was consequently hollow. A steel mast for a vessel of that tonnage was a decided rarity, especially when the vessel was supposed to be a trawler. Consequently Aubyn had already made up his mind to investigate.
It was impracticable to give Waynsford details of his plan. Without demur the skipper of the "Lonette" had agreed to his chum's proposition—for which Terence was truly grateful. Had Waynsford been of a jealous or inquisitive disposition he might have wrecked his friend's plans. Instead he had unquestionably complied with Aubyn's wishes.
Presently Terence emerged from the cabin and peered cautiously at the high sides of the trawler. Fortunately none of the crew was visible. Six feet abaft the motor-boat's quarter the outlines of the trawler's mizzen chain-plates were just discernible in the darkness.
Softly calling to the "Lonette's" bowman, Aubyn asked him to drop a few feet astern. The man who in civil life had been a deck-hand on a crack racing-yacht, immediately did so. His wonderment at the request was overpowered by a sense of obedience acquired by years of training that demanded instant response to the order of the sailing-master.
As soon as the chain-plates came within arm's length Terence grasped the tarred lanyards and swung himself up till his head was on a level with the bulwarks. He peered cautiously along the deck. Aft the trawler was deserted. Forward the two hands were fumbling with the lanterns and the ends of the severed forestay halliard. They evidently were in no hurry to rectify the damage, Terence decided a deft-handed man could have re-spliced the rope in a quarter of the time.
Silently the sub. crawled over the bulwarks and made his way to the lee side of the engine-room coamings. Here he paused to survey the scene of action, at the same time devotedly hoping that his boots would not creak and betray his presence. From below came the guttural voice of the Dutch skipper punctuated by the clear decisive tones of Dick Waynsford. Amidships, on the port side, one of the crew, invisible from the place where Terence crouched, was still keeping up a running fire of banter with the "Pixie's" crew.
He began to unlace his boots, regretting that he had not left them on board the "Lonette." Then he remembered that if they were discovered suspicions would be aroused. He could not drop them overboard without making a splash—and the footgear had cost him a guinea a pair. Lying about on a wet deck with stockinged feet, he reflected, was a cruel job on a cold night, so he hurriedly re-tied the laces.
"It will be a ticklish job to give an account of myself if they find me," he soliloquised, "that is, if the trawler's what she pretends she is. Ten to one I'm on the right tack, though, so here goes."
On all fours he crossed the only uninterrupted part of deck space between the companion and the side of the fish-hold coaming. Here he was fairly safe from observation unless one of the for'ard hands chanced to come aft.
The fish-hold hatches occupied the greater portion of the 'midships part of the trawler. Two of the after-coverings had been removed. The others were in place, a heavy tarpaulin being loosely thrown over them, the canvas slack at the for'ard end.
Beneath this covering, and wedged in between the coaming and the deck, Aubyn crawled. Here he was within ten feet of the foremast—the object of his suspicions. Thanks to the tarpaulin he was able to keep fairly warm in his cramped quarters, while by means of a fold in the canvas he was able to command a wide view of the fore part of the vessel.
Presently he heard Waynsford and the Dutch skipper, followed by the "Lonette's" man, emerge from the cabin and make the round of the deck. Once Waynsford's foot nearly trod upon him as he crouched under the still tarpaulin. Then, after a seemingly endless delay, Terence heard the farewell greetings and the gentle purring of the "Lonette's" motors, as, followed by the "Pixie," she forged ahead, circled and was lost to hearing in the darkness.
For the next ten minutes Terence heard nothing but the heavy measured tread of the skipper of the trawler as he paced the deck. Then, stopping at the forward end of his beat, he said something in a low tone. The words were German, not Dutch—Aubyn was certain of that. Bitterly he regretted his almost total ignorance of the language of Britain's greatest foe.
Then came the clank of a steam winch. Apparently the men were hauling in their nets.
"I hope the old hooker won't make off towards the Dutch coast without the 'Lonette' spotting her," observed Aubyn. "If it come overmisty I won't give much for my chance. By Jove! I am getting stiff."
Soon the winch was stopped, and men came for'ard. Two of them stopped at the foot of the foremast and set to work silently and rapidly. Slightly raising the fold of the tarpaulin the sub. could see that they were removing a plate from the bulky steel mast. Others—for more of the crew than had previously appeared came on the scene—rove light steel wire rigging furnished with small circular objects that the sub. recognised as insulators for wireless gear.
His suspicions were well-founded. Inside the steel mast was a telescopic spar that could be hoisted thirty feet above the truck. From the head of this staff a line of light rope running through a block automatically uncoiled itself, the falls dropping on deck. To one end of this line the aerial was bent and sent aloft.
Two men then came staggering forward with a huge cask. Upon knocking off the upper and lower bands the barrel opened like an exaggerated locket—the remaining bands being dummies—and disclosed a small but powerful wireless apparatus.
Hardly pausing to weigh the consequences, the sub. threw aside the folds of the tarpaulin and sprang to his feet. A howl of rage and surprise greeted his appearance.
"Surrender!" exclaimed Aubyn sternly.
For some minutes there was a dead silence on the part of the astonished Germans, broken only by the moaning of the wind through the rigging and the lap of the water against the trawler's sides. Then, giving a hasty glance round to assure himself that no vessel was within hailing distance, and realising that the daring Englishman was alone, the skipper gave a hurried order.
The next moment Terence was confronted by the muzzles of half a dozen automatic pistols.
"Surrender yourself, Englishman," replied the skipper. "You mad; you all alone. Hands up, or you dead man."
"Perhaps," remarked Terence, with outward calmness, although he remembered with some misgivings that the hair trigger of an automatic pistol is a delicate piece of mechanism for a horny-handed seaman to play with. "If you shoot you'll make things a jolly sight worse for you than they are already. You're properly cornered. The two motor-boats are waiting a short distance off, and there's a destroyer only too ready to bear a hand."
"Vot you going der do?" asked the German, in a chastened tone.
"To summon assistance and take possession of an enemy ship. The more trouble you give, my friend, the worse it will be for you."
[Illustration: "Taking a quick yet steady aim, the Sub. pressed the trigger.">[
The skipper shrugged his shoulders, then hastily addressed his crew. The latter put up their pistols, sullenly and almost mutinously. One of the men hurried across the deck and drew a signal rocket from a locker. This he affixed to the vessel's side and produced a match.
"Stop!" exclaimed Aubyn authoritatively.
"Dies still Zherman sheep," protested the skipper.
The match flared, shielded from the wind by the partly clasped hand of the man who was holding it. In obedience to a further order he began to apply the light to the rocket.
Terence whipped out his revolver. Hitherto, realising that a premature display of the weapon might result in a volley from the hostile pistols, he had kept the weapon out of sight. Now that the crew were practically cowed that danger was over.
The seaman hesitated only for a brief instant, then ignoring the levelled weapon, bent over his task. One of his comrades chuckled derisively.
Taking a quick yet steady aim the sub. pressed the trigger. The heavy ball went true to the mark, severing the rocket-stick and causing the rocket to fall over the side. Luck more than good management had enabled him to hit a target the thickness of a lead pencil on a dark night, with only the flicker of a match to assist his aim.
"If any man attempt to go below I'll wing him—tell them that," said Terence sternly, addressing the master. "Order them to fall in on the starboard side."
All sign of resistance having disappeared the crew, ten in number, formed up at the place indicated, while Aubyn drew his cigarette case from his pocket and smoked.
It was not an act of bravado on his part. Now that the crisis was over he had an uncontrollable craving for a cigarette. So he smoked contentedly as he awaited the return of the "Lonette" and her consort.
He had not long to wait. Already grey dawn was breaking. The wind had dropped, and the short steep waves had subsided into a sullen roll. Long before the two motor-boats came into view the purr of the engines and the muffled roar of their exhausts could be distinctly heard in the still morning air.
"I thought the fellows had potted you when I heard that shot," exclaimed Waynsford, as he clambered over the side. "Well done, old man," he added cordially, as his glance fell upon the tell-tale wireless gear.
"You might send 'Pixie' to bring up the destroyer," suggested Aubyn. "It will save a lot of trouble if she tows this packet into port. Tell her to give the destroyer the tip: there may be German submarines about."
"What makes you think that?" asked Waynsford.
"The anxiety on the part of one of those fellows to let off a rocket. I'm glad I was able to stop his little game."
"How?"
"Oh, a pot-shot at five yards—sent the rocket-stick flying out of his hands. Wonder I didn't hit him."
"Serve him jolly well right if you had," added Waynsford. Already he was fairly conversant with German methods of kultur in connexion with nautical affairs, and to him every Teuton appeared in the light of a skulking treacherous foe.
"'Pixie,' ahoy!" he shouted, addressing his consort, which had now slowed down about half a cable's length away on the port quarter. "Get into touch with that destroyer: she's heading our way. Inform her commanding officer that we suspect hostile submarines in the vicinity."