“Well, I’ve evolved a scheme that may give us the boat,” was the staggering remark made by Jack. It fairly took Amos’ breath away.
“Then let me hear it, please, Jack. They’re still working in the bow there, and we’ve got some time to ourselves. The man at the wheel keeps us heading in the direction of that island, and it’s got something to do with their plans. They mean to either drop us ashore there and maroon us, or else lie to behind until the night wears on, when they can slip past the guard line of patrol boats.”
“When I was down below,” explained Jack, “it struck me what a commotion there would be aboard if smoke was suddenly discovered coming up out of the hold!”
“Oh! my stars! I should say so!” gasped Amos, looking startled. “If, as you say, the cargo is made up of high explosives, we would be shot up into the clouds, and none of us would ever know what had happened. But are you thinking of blowing up the old boat, Jack?”
“Well, not exactly,” was the reply, “but it might answer the same purpose if we could make the crew believe they were in danger of being scattered to the four winds. I think most of them would jump overboard and start swimming for the island we’re getting so close to.”
Amos began to chuckle. Evidently the humorous side of the thing struck him fully.
“Say, wouldn’t that be a great joke though, Jack, if we could scare the bunch into abandoning the boat! Why, what would hinder us from running it, and in the end turning the stuff over to the Allies?”
“You like the idea, then, do you?” questioned Jack.
“It’s a jolly good scheme, let me tell you, if only it could be worked out,” Amos assented—not doubtfully, either, for he had infinite faith in anything his chum attempted to do.
“Leave that part of it to me, Amos. I know just how I can fix things so that in a short time smoke, heavy, black smoke, will ooze out of the hold, though there’ll not be the least danger of an explosion.”