The Pirate Submarine

by Percy F. Westerman

To this the liner replied by semaphore that she would wireless the information, and that she would send a boat to transfer the Alerte's casualties.

"Many thanks," responded Captain Cain, through the medium of the semaphore. "No need to lower boat; ours is available."

Captain Cain had already sent below to warn the wounded of his intentions. They were not sorry to be clear of the pirate submarine. Their chief anxiety was the thought that they might be deprived of their share of booty, but the wily captain reassured them on that point. He knew they would keep their mouths shut—at least for a period sufficiently long for his purpose. He was also ridding himself of the trouble of having useless men on board—men who would have to be fed and given a certain amount of attention and yet be totally unable to assist in working or fighting the ship.

By refusing the liner's offer to send a boat, Captain Cain had scored again. Not only did it prevent the mail boat's officer having a look round, but it obviated the risk of Broadmayne and his companion making a dash for freedom.

But the signal success of his ruse lay in the fact that the liner was already wirelessing the account of an imaginary attack upon the s.s. Alerte. The message was picked up by three destroyers from Cherbourg, which were then in a course that would bring them on the track of the fugitive. Immediately on receipt of this misleading report the French destroyers altered helm in the direction the mythical filibuster was stated to have taken.

The four wounded men were safely transhipped, the operation being performed under the fire of at least fifty cameras—much to Pengelly's disgust. He had no immediate ambition to figure in the limelight of the illustrated press; nor did Captain Cain show any enthusiasm, when through his binoculars he observed the liner's passengers taking snapshots of the Alerte. He wished he had set up the mainmast before meeting the liner. Should a photograph of the Alerte in her present condition reach the French authorities—as it was fairly certain to do—there would be a lot of explanation to prove that the Surcouf's assailant and the Alerte were not one and the same vessel.

"Do you want any further assistance?" inquired the captain of the liner.

"No, sir," answered Pengelly from the boat alongside. "We're putting back to Falmouth for repairs. We can do the run under our own steam."

"Well, good luck to you," was the response, as the Alerte's boat pushed off.

Then, with a mutual dipping of ensigns, the liner and the tramp parted—the former to Southampton, the latter anywhere where she might obtain immunity from the pressing attentions of the swift, vengeful destroyers.