Hailing a carriage, for they were too eager to hear the news to walk, the two boys were driven quickly to their hotel and hurrying to their rooms found Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson talking with an officer in a commander’s uniform.
“Hello, just in time, boys!” exclaimed Mr. Pauling as the two appeared. “Commander West just got in and was about to give us the news.”
“I’m sorry it’s not very good news,” said the officer. “In fact no news at all—as far as results are concerned. We sighted the schooner just north of Watling’s island and signaled her to heave to, but she did not pay the least attention. We couldn’t send a shot after her, you know—serious matter to fire on or near a vessel on the high seas, and she was flying the British flag. Before we could come alongside she slipped in between the reefs and we had to slow down and feel our way—dangerous channels those between the coral, you know—and by the time we rounded the next cay she’d completely disappeared. Strangest thing I’ve ever seen. Not a trace of her, if she’d sunk with all on board she could not have vanished more mysteriously. Of course we supposed that she’d slipped into some little bay or cove where we couldn’t follow so we anchored and sent our boats off. They ran around every cay and island within sight, but not a sign of that blessed packet. It gets me, I admit.”
“H-m-m!” muttered Mr. Henderson. “Sort of phantom ship, eh? Was it possible she slipped away behind the islands while you were getting through the reefs?”
“Don’t see how she could,” replied Commander West. “Her topmasts would have shown up somewheres. No, she must have got into some landlocked bay that our men missed—hard thing to see some of those with the fringe of palms along the outer beach hiding the entrance, you know. Well, to continue. We decided to search every cay the next morning—it was pretty near dark then—and we did, but not a sign. Then we gave up and were cruising about, thinking she’d slipped out during the night and we might pick her up and the next day what do you think? Why we got a radio from Haverstraw of the Porter saying they’d sighted her over by the Caicos and that she gave him the slip among the reefs the same way. He had a little better luck though. Found her all right.”
“Hurrah!” shouted Tom as the commander hesitated. “Did they get the men?”
“They found her, as I said,” continued the officer, “anchored off one of the cays and—absolutely deserted!”
“Jove!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson. “Deserted! Confound those fellows. They seem to have a habit of deserting their ships! First the submarine and now the schooner. Did Lieutenant Haverstraw find anything on her?”
“Nothing suspicious,” replied the commander. “To all intents and purposes she was merely a fishing smack. Didn’t even have a wireless aboard. He might have towed her to port as a derelict, but he radioed for advice and I told him to leave her. If he’d brought her in there might have been too many questions asked—Admiralty investigation and all—these Britishers are just as particular about a smack as a liner when it comes to maritime law, you know, and they have a blamed uncomfortable way of asking too many questions sometimes. Of course I realize that the two governments would straighten it out and keep matters quiet, but the local authorities might not and she’s just as well off there as here as far as I can see.”
“Yes, no need of arousing curiosity,” agreed Mr. Pauling. “Did you search the islands near her to see if the men had gone ashore?”