“Great Scott!” ejaculated Frank, “It’s a girl!”

The Boy Allies

On the North Sea Patrol

OR

Striking the First Blow at the German Fleet

By Ensign ROBERT L. DRAKE

AUTHOR OF

“The Boy Allies Under Two Flags”

“The Boy Allies With the Terror of the Seas”

“The Boy Allies With the Flying Squadron”

Copyright, 1915

By A. L. Burt Company

THE BOY ALLIES ON THE NORTH SEA PATROL

THE BOY ALLIES ON THE NORTH SEA PATROL

CHAPTER I.
SHANGHAIED.

“Help! Help!”

Frank Chadwick, strolling along the water-front in Naples, stopped suddenly in his tracks and gazed in the direction from whence had come the cry of distress.

“Help! Help!” came the cry again, in English.

Frank dashed forward toward a dirty-looking sailors’ boarding house, from the inside of which he could distinguish the sounds of a struggle.

As he sprang through the door, at the far end of the room he saw a little man in a red sweater, unmistakably an American, apparently battling for his life with two swarthy Italians, both armed with gleaming knives.

Frank jumped forward with a cry, and as he did so, the Italians turned and fled. The little American wiped his face on his sleeve, and then turned to Frank with outstretched hand.

“You came just in time,” he declared. “I thought it was all up with me.”

“I’m glad I did,” replied the lad, grasping the other’s hand.

“Yes, sir,” continued the little man. “If you hadn’t-a-come, them dagos would-a-done for me sure.”

He led the way to an adjoining room, Frank following him. He sat down at a table and rapped loudly upon it.

“Let’s have a drink,” he said, as a greasy-looking Italian in an even more greasy apron entered the room.

“Thanks,” replied Frank; “but I don’t drink.”

“Oh, come on now,” urged the other; “take something.”

“No,” said Frank with finality. “I must go,” he continued, turning toward the door. “I am glad to have been of some assistance to you.”

But even as he turned the American in the red sweater stamped twice upon the floor and a trap door fell away beneath Frank’s feet. The lad caught a glimpse of water below.

His elbow struck the floor as he went down, and he fell head-first into a small rowboat. His head struck the bottom of the boat with sickening force, stunning him.

It was almost an hour later when his wits began to return to him. He took in the scene around him. He stood on the deck of a small schooner, and a great hulk of a man with an evil face stood near him, arguing with his friend of the red sweater.

“What is this thing you’ve brought me?” shouted the big man. “If we don’t look out we’ll step on it and break it. It hadn’t ought to be around without its ma.”

“Oh, he’ll do all right, captain,” replied the red sweater. “But I’ve got to skip or I’ll have the patrol boat after me. Do you sign or not?”

“Well, I’ll tackle this one, but if he ain’t up to snuff he’ll come back by freight, and don’t you forget it.”

The red sweater pocketed a note the captain handed him, went over the side of the schooner and rowed off.

Frank gazed about the schooner. Several dirty sailors, fully as evil looking as the captain, were working about the deck. Apparently they were foreigners. The captain appeared to be an American.

The captain, Harwood by name, turned to Frank.

“Get forward,” he commanded.

Frank drew himself up.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he exclaimed. “I demand to be put ashore.”

“Is that so,” sneered the big captain; “and why do you suppose I went to all this trouble to get you here, huh? Now you listen to me. I’m captain of this here tub, and what I say goes. Get forward!”

Still Frank stood still.

“Look here,” he began, “I——”

The captain knocked him down with a single blow of his great fist, and kicked his prostrate form. Then he picked him up, caught him by the neck and the slack of his coat and ran him forward to the hatchway, and flung him below.

As Frank picked himself up there descended upon him a deluge of clothes, followed by the captain’s voice.

“There’s your outfit, Willie, and it won’t cost you a cent. You’ve got two minutes to get into them, and I hope you won’t force me to give you any assistance.”

Frank Chadwick was a lad of discretion. Therefore he made haste to change, and in less than the allotted time he again emerged on deck.

Frank had just passed his sixteenth birthday. Always athletically inclined, he was extremely large for his age; and his muscles, hardened by much outdoor exercise, made him a match for many a man twice his age, as he had proven more than once when forced to do so.

His father was a well-to-do physician in a small New England town. For a lad of his years, Frank was an expert in the art of self-defense. Also he could ride, shoot and fence.

While the lad was by no means an expert with sailing vessels, he nevertheless had had some experience in that line. At home he had a small sailboat and in the summer months spent many hours upon the water. Consequently he was well versed in nautical terms.

This summer Frank and his father had been touring Europe. The war clouds which had hovered over the continent for weeks had finally burst while father and son were in Germany. In getting out of the country the two had been separated, and for two days now the lad had been unable to find Dr. Chadwick.

Frank was well up on his history, and this, together with the fact that his mother was of English descent, turned his sympathies with the allies. Also he was a student of literature and languages, and could converse fluently in French, German and Italian.

As has been said, Frank was a lad of discretion; which is the reason he appeared upon deck again within the two minutes allowed him by the captain.

He emerged from below with blood upon his face and the grime of an unclean ship upon his hands. As he came on deck he saw the crew of the schooner hurrying forward, six of them, Italians every one. On the quarterdeck stood the captain.

“Look at Willie,” shouted the captain in great glee. “Clap on to the starboard windlass brake, son.”

Frank saw the Italians ranged about what he supposed was the windlass in the bow. He took his place among them, grasping one of the bars.

“Break down!” came the next order, and Frank and the Italians obeyed, bearing up and down on the bars till the slack of the anchor chain came home and stretched taut and dripping from the hawse-holes.

“'Vast heavin’!”

Frank released his hold on the brake. Orders came thick and fast now, and Frank’s experience with his own sailboat stood him in good stead, and soon the schooner was beating out to sea.

The wind blew violent and cold, and the spray was flying like icy small-shot. The schooner rolled and plunged and heaved and sank and rose again. Frank was drenched to the skin and sore in every joint.

The captain at length ordered the cook to give the men their food.

“Get forward, son,” he commanded, fixing Frank with his eye.

Frank descended below. The Italians were already there, sitting on the edges of their bunks. The cook brought in supper, stewed beef and pork. A liquor that bore a slight resemblance to coffee was served. This was Black Jack.

“Well,” muttered Frank, looking at the mess of which the Italians were eating hungrily, “I’ve got to come to it some time.”

He took his knife from his pocket, opened the big blade and cut off a piece of pork. This he forced himself to eat. Then he once more went on deck.

Half an hour later the captain emerged from his cabin. Then he and an Italian he called Charlie, who, in the absence of a mate, appeared to be the second in command, began to choose the men for their watches. Frank found himself in the captain’s watch.

“I may as well tell you,” he said to the captain, “that I’m no sailor.”

“Well, you will be, son,” came the reply. “You’ll either be a sailor or shark bait.”

The watches divided, the captain said to Frank:

“Son, I’m going to do you a real favor. You can berth aft in the cabin with Charlie and me, and you can make free of my quarterdeck. Maybe you ain’t used to the way of sailormen, but you can take it from me those are two real concessions.”

“Will you tell me where we are bound, captain?” asked Frank.

“I’ll tell you it’s none of your business,” came the sharp reply. “You do as I say and ask no questions.”

About an hour later Frank turned in. The captain showed him his bunk. It was under the companionway that led down into the cabin. The captain bunked on one side and Charlie on the other.

As Frank made his way to his bunk, he saw a sight that caused him to catch his breath in surprise.

In a fourth bunk, above the one in which the captain slept, was the figure of another man. Approaching closer, Frank saw that the man was bound and gagged, and apparently unconscious.

“Hmmm,” he muttered. “Wonder what this means?”

And at his words the occupant of the bunk moved slightly and moaned.

CHAPTER II.
MUTINY.

Frank went over to the bunk and peered in. At that moment Captain Harwood’s voice broke upon his ear.

“Looking at my little long lost chum, are you, son?” he said in a low, gentle voice. “Well,” and his voice grew suddenly harsh, “don’t do it! You keep away from there! You hear me? You keep away or I’ll feed you to the little fishes!”

He aimed a vicious blow at Frank, which the lad avoided only by a quick backward leap. The captain took a step forward as though to continue his attack; then changed his mind and said:

“I don’t want to hurt you, son, but you’ll have to keep away from my property.”

The captain turned on his heel and went on deck.

In spite of the captain’s warning, Frank once more approached the man in the bunk; but he kept a wary eye on the door. Putting his foot on the edge of the captain’s bunk, he pulled himself up.

The bound man was still moaning feebly. Frank removed the gag from his mouth.

“Thanks,” said the man in a low voice in English. “I didn’t think I could stand that thing in my mouth another instant.”

“What’s the matter, anyhow,” demanded Frank. “Why are you kept a prisoner here?”

“It’s a long story,” was the reply, “and I haven’t time to tell you now. But I can say this much, for I don’t believe you will repeat it. I’m in the English diplomatic corps and am on an important mission. My capture must be the work of treachery. I suppose I am to be turned over to the Germans.”

“I thought diplomacy was a thing of the past,” said Frank. “Of what use is diplomacy now that practically the whole of Europe is at war?”

“That’s just it,” was the reply. “The whole of Europe is not at war. Italy is still neutral, but unless something happens she is likely to throw in her fortunes with Germany.”

“But what have you got to do with that?”

The man in the bunk was silent for a few moments.

“All I can say,” he replied finally, “is that I am supposed to see that something happens; or rather, I should say, I am to help.”

“But how did you get here?”

“I was trapped. There is a traitor somewhere. It looks as though I am done for. The Germans know me. They will show me no mercy.”

“Surely, it’s not as bad as all that!” exclaimed Frank.

“Worse, if possible,” was the reply.

“But I can’t believe Captain Harwood, an American, would be engaged in work of that sort.”

“Harwood!” exclaimed, the man in the bunk. “A more villainous pirate never lived. I know him of old. I don’t know how he happened to be sailing at this exact time. He certainly is not making this trip on my account alone. He’s up to some other game.”

Frank was struck with an idea.

“But the crew,” he exclaimed. “Can’t we get some help from them?”

“Don’t you bank on that,” was the reply.

“But——” began Frank.

The man in the bunk interrupted.

“Sh-h-h!” he cautioned. “Footsteps!”

Frank listened a moment; then with a quick spring jumped into his own bunk just as Captain Harwood again appeared. The captain approached him. To all appearances Frank was sleeping soundly. The captain grunted and then approached the man in the bunk.

“So!” he exclaimed. “I’ve got you again, eh! Well, this time you won’t get away. You don’t think I’ve forgotten I spent two years behind the bars on your account, do you? I haven’t. You hear me!”

He struck the helpless man a blow with his fist.

“Why don’t you answer me?” he demanded; then smiled to himself. “Oh, I forgot. Guess I’ll remove that gag and let you say something.”

He climbed up and leaned over the occupant of the upper bunk, then started back with a cry.

“How did you remove that gag?” he demanded; then continued, “O-ho I see. Little Willie boy, eh! Well——”

He turned toward Frank and at the same moment the man in the bunk let out a cry of warning.

But Frank was not to be caught napping. As the captain turned toward him he sprang to his feet and placed himself in an attitude of defense. He knew that he was no match for the giant captain, but he determined to give a good account of himself.

“Well, well,” cried the captain advancing, “little Willie is going to fight! What d’ye think o’ that?”

He doubled his huge fists and took another step forward; but at that instant there came a fearful cry from on deck.

The captain paused, and Charlie’s voice came down the hatchway in a loud wail:

“Help!”

Captain Harwood sprang toward the door, and as he went through it he hurled back over his shoulder:

“I’ll 'tend to your case when I come back, son!”

A moment later there came cries from above and the sound of a furious struggle. Frank rushed up the hatchway to the deck, where a terrible sight met his eyes.

Surrounded by all six of the crew. Captain Harwood was battling desperately for his life. Time after time he struck out with his great fists, but his blows failed to land. The nimble Italians skipped back, then closed in again. By the wheel, Frank saw the unconscious form of Charlie.

Long, wicked-looking knives gleamed in the hands of the Italians. Bleeding from half a dozen wounds, the giant captain continued to fight off his enemies.

“Great Scott!” exclaimed Frank. “I can’t stand here and see him killed!”

He sprang forward and, before his presence was noted, struck down one of the Italians with a blow of his fist.

The captain noted with a nod this aid from such an unexpected source.

“Good work, son!” he exclaimed.

Frank turned to another of the Italians, but as he did so the man he had knocked down arose, stooped and picked up a belaying pin that lay nearby, and struck Frank a heavy blow on the head.

The lad dropped to the deck unconscious. At the same moment the other Italians sprang upon the captain with even greater ferocity. In vain he tried to fight them off. Two he knocked down with hammer-like blows of his great fists. Then, seizing a descending arm, he twisted sharply and a knife fell clattering to the deck.

At the same moment another Italian sprang upon his unprotected back, and buried his knife to the hilt. Three times the captain spun around on his heel, then fell to the deck on his face. Instantly half a dozen knives were buried in his back. The captain gave a great sob, shuddered, and lay still.

Roughly the Italians picked up the great body, carried it to the rail and threw it into the sea. The body of Charlie was treated in a similar manner. Then the Italians approached Frank.

As they picked him up he groaned. Consciousness was returning.

“He’s still alive,” came a voice. “What shall we do with him?”

“Overboard with him anyhow,” came the reply.

“No,” said another voice. “Let him live. Tie him up and put him below with the other prisoner. There is a good price on the head of one, according to what the captain said. The other may be worth something.”

It was now dark; but suddenly the little schooner was the center of a dazzling light and a shot rang out over the water. Dimly, could be made out the outlines of a battle cruiser. A second shot rang out—a command to heave-to.

“Quick!” cried one of the mutineers, apparently the leader of the gang. “We must make a run for it. Tie this dog up and throw him below!”

Swiftly Frank was bound hand and foot and tumbled down the hatchway. In falling the knot that bound his feet became unloosened and he freed his legs with little difficulty. But try as he would he could not release his hands. He made his way to his bunk and lay down.

“What’s the matter?” came the voice of the man in the bunk.

Frank explained matters to him.

“Good!” was the reply. “They can’t get away from the cruiser. It is undoubtedly a British ship.”

But both were doomed to disappointment. A heavy wind had sprung up and now was blowing a gale. With all sails set, the little schooner soon lost itself in the darkness, and when morning dawned there was not the sign of a sail as far as the eye could see.

CHAPTER III.
JACK TEMPLETON.

Jack Templeton stood in a shady grove in a little hamlet on the north coast of Africa. A lad of seventeen, he was the only white person in the village, or in fact for many miles around. He had come there with his father five years before.

His father’s reasons for thus practically burying himself alive, Jack did not know. He had started up a little store and had made a bare living selling goods to the natives. Twice a year a ship brought him stock enough for the ensuing six months, but except at these rare intervals, a white man was seldom seen in the village.

A year before Jack’s father had died, and Jack had inherited the little store. Now he was following in his father’s footsteps. Of his father’s past life he knew next to nothing, beyond the fact that his father, by birth, was an Englishman, and, before coming to the little African village, had lived for some years in the United States.

In spite of his youth, Jack was of huge stature. Always tall for his age, he had filled out so rapidly that now at seventeen he was well over six feet and big all through. His strength was immense, and there were no three natives in the village that could stand up against him.

His father had been a scholar, and Jack was a keen student. He spoke several languages besides English and one or two native dialects.

As Jack stood in the little grove this warm afternoon he kept an attentive eye on a shabby looking schooner that was creeping up from the south. At a distance of about a mile from the shore the schooner luffed up, hoisted a dirty red ensign and dropped her anchor; a fishing canoe, which had paddled out to meet her, ran alongside and presently returned shoreward with a couple of strangers.

Jack made no move, in spite of the fact that he was well aware that the strangers, probably, were headed direct for his store. To-day he was in no mood to meet a white man, for he was not quite ready to take his departure from the village.

The canoe landed, the strangers stepped ashore and disappeared. Presently a file of natives appeared moving toward the shore, each carrying a large basket of provisions. Then suddenly two white men appeared, running.

They jumped in the canoe, the men pushed off and the little craft began to wriggle its way through the surf. At the same moment another figure appeared on the beach, and made unmistakable signs of hostility to the receding canoe.

Jack recognized this figure. It was his assistant. As Jack crossed the sand toward the village, the black assistant came running toward him.

“Dem sailors am tiefs, sar!” he gasped, when he had come within earshot.

Jack comprehended in a moment. “Do you mean they didn’t pay you?” he demanded.

“Yes, sar! No, sar!” exclaimed the assistant excitedly. “Dey no pay nuttin’.”

“All right,” said Jack calmly. “We’ll go aboard and collect for it then.”

“All canoes out fishin’ 'cept dat one,” exclaimed the negro, pointing to the one carrying the sailors back to the schooner.

“We’ll wait for that one, then,” replied Jack.

The two sat down on the beach to wait. The negro said nothing. He knew Jack too well to try and dissuade him from his purpose, so he kept his own counsel.

The canoe ran alongside the schooner, and having discharged its passengers and freight, put off for its return to shore. Then the schooner’s sails began to slide up the stays; the canvas aloft began to flatten out to the pull of the sheets. The schooner was preparing to get under way.

The canoe had now reached the beach and Jack and the black assistant climbed in. Then they put off toward the schooner.

As the canoe bounded forward, Jack suddenly caught the sound of the schooner’s windlass pawl. The anchor was being hove up.

The natives in the canoe bent to the work. The canoe swept alongside the schooner and Jack, grasping a chain, swung himself up into the channel, whence he climbed to the bulwark rail and dropped down on the deck.

The windlass was manned by five men, plainly Italians. A sixth was seated on the deck nearby.

“Good afternoon,” said Jack. “You forgot to pay for those provisions.”

The seated man looked up with a start, first at Jack, then at the assistant, who now sat astride the rail, ready either to advance or retreat. The clink of the windlass ceased and the other five men came aft grinning.

“What are you doing aboard this ship?” demanded the seated sailor in halting and very poor English.

“I’ve come to collect my dues,” replied Jack. “I’m the owner of these provisions.”

“You are mistaken,” said the sailor. “I am the owner.”

“Then you have got to pay me.”

“Look here,” remarked the sailor, rising. “You get overboard quick!”

“I want my pay,” declared Jack.

“Pitch him overboard,” spoke up another sailor.

The first sailor, evidently the commander, advanced.

Jack stood motionless with his long legs wide apart, his hands clasped behind him, his shoulders hunched up and his chin thrust forward. He presented an uninviting aspect.

The sailor evidently appreciated this, and for a moment hesitated. Then he came forward again. But he picked a bad moment for his attack, for he rushed just as the deck rose.

There was a resounding “smack, smack,” the sailor staggered backward, upsetting two men behind him, staggered down the deck closely followed by Jack, and finally fell sprawling in the scuppers with his head jammed against the stanchion.

The two other men scrambled to their feet and, with their three companions, closed in on Jack; but the latter did not wait to be attacked.

He charged the group, hammering right and left, regardless of the thumps he got in return, and gradually drove them, bewildered by his quickness and heavy blows, through the space between the foremast and the bulwark.

Slowly they backed away before his battering, hampered by their numbers as they struck at him, until one man, who had the bad luck to catch two uppercuts in succession, whipped out his sheath knife.

Jack’s quick eye caught the glint of the steel just as he was passing the fife rail. He whipped out an iron belaying pin and brought it down on the man’s head. The man dropped, and as the belaying pin rose and fell, the other men drew back.

Suddenly a shot rang out. A little cloud of splinters flew from the mast near Jack’s head. Glancing forward. Jack beheld the leader emerge from the forecastle hatch and aim at him with a revolver. At that moment Jack was abreast of the uncovered main hatch. He had perceived a tier of grain bags covering the floor of the hold. He stooped, and with his hands on the coaming, vaulted over, dropped on the bags, picked himself up and scrambled forward under the shelter of the deck.

The hold of the ship was a single cavity. The forward part contained a portion of the outward cargo, while the homeward lading was stowed abaft the main hatch. There was plenty of room to move about.

For a moment after Jack dropped to this place of temporary refuge the air was thick with imprecations and the sound of angry stamping came to Jack’s ears. Hardly had he squeezed himself behind the stack of bales when a succession of shots rang out.

Then there was a pause, and soon the leader commanded one of his men to follow Jack. The man demurred. None of the others would go after him.

“He’s too handy with that belaying pin,” observed one.

One man was struck with a brilliant idea.

“Bottle him up,” he cried. “Clap on the hatch covers and batten down. Then we have him and can sleep in our bunks in peace.”

“Good,” exclaimed the leader.

This plan seemed to satisfy all parties, and a general movement warned Jack that his incarceration was imminent. For a moment he was disposed to make a last desperate sortie, but the certainty that he would be killed before he reached the deck decided him to lie low.

The hatch covers dropped into their beds. Then Jack heard the tarpaulin dragged over the hatch, shutting out the last gleams of light that had filtered through joints of the covers; the battens were dropped into the catches, the wedges driven home.

Jack sat in a darkness like that of the tomb.

CHAPTER IV.
FRANK MAKES A FRIEND.

It was clear to Jack that this was no place to stay if he could help it. From the first it had been evident to him that there was something wrong about the ship. Apart from the lawless behavior of the crew, there was the fact that since he had come on board he had seen no vestige of an officer.

The sailor who had first attacked him seemed to have some sort of authority. Jack naturally came to the conclusion that he was in command of the vessel. There was only one reasonable answer, which was confirmed by a certain brown stain Jack had noticed on the deck. There had been a mutiny on the ship.

Jack struck a match. The flame lighted up the corner into which he had crept and he saw several objects that he had not noticed before, a shipwright’s auger, a calking mallet and probably a dozen wooden pegs, tapering at one end.

The purpose of these was unmistakable. The sailors intended to scuttle the ship. Holes were to be bored in the bottom and the plugs driven into them. Then, when the mutineers were ready to leave, the ship would be abandoned with the water pouring into her hold.

The tools suggested an idea to Jack. He picked up the auger and mallet and groped his way aft. He climbed up on the pile of sacks and crawled along until he came to the bulkhead that separated the cabin from the hold. He set the point of the auger against the bulkhead, and grasping the cross lever, set to work vigorously. He was soon rewarded by feeling the tool give with a jerk, and when he withdrew it there was a circular hole, through which daylight streamed faintly.

Jack put one eye to the hole and peered through. He could make out several objects in the cabin beyond. Having made this brief survey, he returned to his task. Above the hole he had already bored, he bored another slightly intersecting it, above this another, and so on, tracing a continuous row of holes, each encroaching on the next, in a wide circle.

By the time he had drilled the thirtieth hole, the weakening light filtering through told him the sun was setting. The fortieth hole was within an inch of the first one bored. Jack gave a vigorous kick on the space inclosed by the line of holes, and sent the oval piece of plank flying into the cabin.

He slipped easily through the opening and groped about the cabin. He felt his way to the companion ladder, where he bumped against a bunk. He sprawled headlong, and beneath his fingers felt a human form. He sprang back and struck a match.

Before him he saw the face of a boy, and he again approached the bunk. The lad’s hands were bound and he was sleeping. Jack shook him, and the boy looked up.

“Hello,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Rather, what are you doing here?” was Jack’s reply.

“I’m Frank Chadwick, an American,” was the answer. “Untie my hands and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Jack did as he was requested, and then Frank motioned toward the upper bunk just across from him.

“We’ll perform the same operation there, and then we’ll have a talk,” he said.

Jack approached the bunk indicated, and perceived a second bound form. Quickly the two lads untied him, and the man slid to the floor and stretched himself.

“Thanks,” he said, rubbing his hands. “I’m glad to get out of that.”

“What’s this all about, anyhow?” demanded Jack, in great surprise.

Frank gave an account of his adventures after meeting the little American with the red sweater in Naples. Then the man who had been tied in the bunk repeated the story he had told Frank when the lad had first entered the cabin, adding that his name was Albert Hetherington.

“But how do you come to be here?” he demanded of Jack.

Jack explained.

“Well,” exclaimed Hetherington, “you have put your head into a hornet’s nest, young man.”

“Yes,” replied Jack, “and I’m going to keep it there until I’m paid to take it out. I want two pounds four and I’m going to get it before I leave this ship.”

Jack climbed up on a small table, and wrapping his hand in his handkerchief, crashed his fist through the skylight. The skylight had a fixed top, and, instead of the usual guard bars, had loose wooden shutters for use in bad weather. Jack picked away the remainder of the glass. Placing a small box on top of the table, he climbed upon it and peered out.

He could just catch a glimpse of the man at the wheel. The fellow was not taking his duties very seriously, for he was sitting on the grating filling his pipe and letting the ship steer itself. Jack considered, looked out again, then descended from the table with a distinctly purposeful air.

“I’m looking for a piece of rubber plaster,” he told Frank and Hetherington.

He opened the medicine chest, and cut off several strips. Then he picked up a piece of rope that hung upon a peg on the cabin wall.

“I want to try a little experiment,” he told the others. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

He cut off a couple of lengths of rope, and having pocketed one, and having made a small fixed loop in the end of the other, climbed up on the box again and looked out on deck.

All was quiet without. Jack heard the helmsman yawn sleepily; he had left the wheel with a rope hitched around one of the spokes, and was now leaning over the rail looking at the water.

Grasping the frame of the skylight, Jack gave a light spring and came stealthily through the opening. Then, creeping along the deck in the shelter of the small boat and the companion hood, he stole toward the sailor.

As the man threw back his head and yawned, Jack slipped his left hand around, holding the strip of plaster spread out on it, and clapped the plaster over the man’s mouth, and instantly pinioned his hands by clasping him tightly round the chest.

The man struggled furiously and would have shouted, but was only able to grunt and snort, so well had the plaster done its work. The struggle went on with little noise. Jack contrived to pass the end of the line through the loop and draw it until it was ready for a final pull. Then he hurled the man to the deck, jerked the line tight and sat on the prisoner’s legs. He bound him tightly and then sat quiet a moment, listening.

Finally he arose and slid his helpless prisoner through the skylight into the cabin and then lowered himself by the way he had emerged.

Here he seized the captive, dragged him across the cabin, and thrust him through the bulkhead, followed him through and removed the plaster from the man’s mouth.

“Now,” he said to his prisoner, “if you know what is good for you, you will keep quiet.”

Evidently the man knew. He signified his intention of keeping quiet, and Jack returned to the cabin.

“Well, that’s one of them out of the way,” he told his new friends.

“Yes,” replied Hetherington, “but there are five or six more up there.”

“Five,” said Frank.

“We’ll see what can be done,” remarked Jack, and again climbed on the table and peered forth from the skylight.

But now there was no one to capture. The wheel jerked to and fro in its lashings. Suddenly the vessel heeled over crazily. At the same time a voice called:

“What’s the matter, Pedro? You’ll have the masts overboard if you don’t look out.”

A moment later the leader of the mutineers came staggering aft, followed by several of his men. He gazed at the wheel in surprise.

“Where has he gone?” he demanded.

“Down in the cabin, I guess,” said one of the men.

“No,” was the reply, “the companion is fastened up.”

“He’s gone overboard, that’s where he’s gone,” said another voice.

“I guess you’re right,” replied the leader. “Here, Antonio, you mind the helm, and don’t you go overboard, too.”

Muttering sleepily, another man took his place at the wheel, and the others moved off. Jack bent down from the table and whispered to the others.

“Now is the time to get the next one. You two stand by and take care of him when I pass him along to you.”

“Better be careful,” said Frank. “They are all liable to jump you.”

Jack did not reply. He pulled himself up and dropped to the deck.

CHAPTER V.
FREE.

From the direction of the wheel there came a loud snore. The sailor had deliberately seated himself upon the deck in a comfortable position.

Jack stole up to the sleeping seaman and softly encircled his arms with the noose. Then he passed the lashing around his ankles and tied them firmly. This aroused the sleeper, who began to mumble protests. Instantly Jack slapped the plaster over his mouth. Then he dragged the man to the skylight and tumbled him down unceremoniously, and followed him into the cabin.

Frank and Hetherington held him while Jack removed the plaster and thrust him through the hole in the bulkhead. Just as Jack once more put his head through the skylight, there was the sound of a voice and Jack drew inside.

“Something queer on this ship, I tell you,” declared the leader. “First Pedro goes overboard and then Antonio follows him. Sebastian, you take the wheel.”

“Not me,” came the reply. “I’m not going overboard if I can help it. Take the wheel yourself.”

“Neither am I,” declared another voice.

A wrangle followed, with the result that the leader was forced to take the wheel. Looking out again, Jack saw that the man was peering out over the water. Softly he again dropped to the deck, and stole upon the unsuspecting leader.

A fierce struggle ensued. The Italian was a big man, and in spite of Jack’s strength and size, he put up a furious battle. The two rolled against the rail, there was a sharp crack and with a loud cry the leader suddenly went overboard. Jack jumped back to the skylight and crouched down; and it was not a moment too soon.

The other three men approached.

“He’s gone all right,” said one, gazing at the spot where the leader had stood a moment before.

“Yes, he’s gone,” said another. “I guess it will be our turn next.”

Suddenly a cry from the water drew their attention.

“It’s Ferdinand,” said one of the sailors, “and he is swimming.”

“What’s to be done?” demanded another. “We can’t let him drown like that.”

“No,” replied another. “Francisco and I will get out the boat and pull him in. You stay here,” turning to the third man.

“What!” came the reply. “Stay here by myself?”

“You do as I say. We have got to get Ferdinand.”

Suddenly Jack was struck with an idea. He was well aware of the superstitious nature of sailors, and he planned to play upon it. He descended to the cabin and from the wall took a suit of the captain’s oilskins. Then he went back on deck.

Two of the men had gone over the side in the small boat, and the remaining sailor was now engaged in hanging a lamp from the stern. Jack silently approached him.

Having secured the lamp, the sailor took a long look out over the sea and then turned toward the deck; and as his eyes fell on the tall, oil-skinned figure, he uttered a gasp of horror, and began to shuffle backward.

“The captain’s ghost!” he exclaimed in an awed voice.

Suddenly the sailor’s heels caught on a ringbolt and he staggered and fell on the deck with a howl of terror; but in another instant he had scrambled to his feet and rushed away forward, whence the slam of the forecastle scuttle announced his retirement to a place of safety.

More than half an hour elapsed before a hoarse hail from the sea heralded the return of the boat.

“Is all well?” came the cry. “Ferdinand is gone. We couldn’t find him.”

Jack stepped back into the shadow of the mainsail. Soon the heads of the two men appeared over the rail, and they swung themselves to the deck.

For one instant they stood as if petrified; then, with one accord, they stampeded forward, and once more the forecastle scuttle slammed. Jack followed, and, quietly thrusting a belaying pin through the staple of the scuttle, secured them in their retreat.

The mutiny was a thing of the past.

Then Jack made his way to the cabin, where he informed his two newly-made friends of the success of his endeavors, and the three went on deck.

“You’re all right,” Frank told Jack in great admiration, as the three gazed out over the water. “I had given up all hope of getting away alive. I don’t see how you ever managed it.”

“Nor I,” said Hetherington. “I know Frank and I couldn’t have done it together.”

Jack laughed modestly.

“A little thinking is all that’s necessary,” he replied.

“Well, you are quite a thinker,” said Frank; “but it strikes me you are something of a fighter besides.”

“What shall we do now?” broke in Hetherington.

“I suppose I had better get home,” replied Jack. “Besides, we are not far from there. You had both better come with me.”

“I want to get back to Naples,” declared Frank.

“And I must get to Nalut, Tripoli, at the earliest possible moment,” declared Hetherington.

“Nalut!” exclaimed Jack. “Why, we can’t be far from there now. It’s close to my home. I have been there several times.”

“You don’t mean it,” cried Hetherington. “Then I can get there from your place?”

“Easily, by camel. It is about a day’s journey.”

Hetherington turned to Frank.

“Why can’t you come with me?” he asked. “I’ll look after you. I expect to be back in England in a couple of weeks, and you can go with me. Then you can return to the United States.”

“But I wanted to get back to Naples and try and find my father.”

“You probably wouldn’t be able to find him now. The chances are he has returned home himself, hoping to find you there, as he has been unable to find you in more than a week.”

“I guess you are right,” replied Frank. “I’ll go with you.”

It was late the next afternoon when the schooner once more drew near the little African town in which Jack lived, and dropped anchor.

Jack called the prisoners from below.

“I don’t know why I should bother with you,” he said. “I know you are mutineers and should be dealt with severely, but I am not an executioner. Pay me my two pounds four,” he continued, turning to one of the men, “and we shall leave the ship. It’s not my ship and neither is it yours; but you can have it as far as I am concerned.”

“Yes,” said Frank. “We don’t need it any longer.”

One of the Italians ran hurriedly below. Returning he placed two bags of gold in Jack’s hand.

“Take this, signor,” he exclaimed. “We will have no luck unless we give you this gold.”

“No,” replied Jack, “all I want is what is due me.”

“Yes, yes; you must take it, signor,” cried all the Italians.

Jack thrust his hand into one of the canvas bags and brought out a handful of coins, from which he selected two. The others he returned to the bag, adding to them a couple of coins from his own pocket.

“Two shillings change,” he remarked.

He threw the bags down on deck and dropped himself into the small boat now lying alongside. The other two followed him.

But he had hardly taken his seat when two heavy thumps on the floor of the boat, followed by a jingling impact, announced the arrival of the two bags of gold.

“You must take the gold, signor. You must take it, else we shall have no luck.”

Jack stood up in the boat. Frank and Hetherington pulled on the oars.

“Pull,” Jack commanded, and the boat started away.

Aiming skillfully at the open gangway, Jack sent the heavy bags, one after the other, skimming along the deck.

One of the Italians grabbed them up and rushed to the gangway. But he was too late. The boat was twenty yards away, and leaping forward beneath the strokes of Frank and Hetherington.

CHAPTER VI.
THE SECRET AGENT.

Upon landing the three made their way at once to Jack’s small home, a rudely constructed native hut.

“Sorry I haven’t a better place to offer you,” said Jack, “but I guess you can put up with it for one day.”

“No apology is needed,” said Hetherington. “This is plenty good enough for me.”

“And for me,” declared Frank.

“Well, just make yourselves at home, then,” said Jack. “I’ll see if I can’t scare up something to eat.”

Their appetites appeased, Frank bethought himself of Hetherington’s promise to tell him his story, and reminded him of it.

Hetherington hesitated a moment, and then said:

“I don’t know as there is any reason I shouldn’t tell you, particularly as I undoubtedly owe my life to you both. In the first place, I am what is known as a secret agent of the British government.”

“A what?” demanded Jack.

“A secret agent; in other words, a diplomatic agent, though I am not officially recognized as such. Which means, that in the event of anything happening to me, England could not be held responsible for my actions, nor could I look to my government for aid.”

“I see what you mean,” said Frank, and Jack nodded his head in assent.

“You mean that what you do, although under instructions, you do at your own risk?” he questioned.

“Yes. For instance, if, in some diplomatic undertaking, I should be apprehended upon the order of a foreign government, say as a spy, or for some overt political act, my government would not countenance my action, even though I am acting under direct orders.”

“It must be dangerous work,” declared Frank.

“You take your life in your hands every time you are sent upon a mission,” said Jack.

Hetherington smiled grimly.

“Practically that,” he admitted. “It’s dangerous work, no doubt; but there is a spice of excitement to it that makes it worth while.”

“Besides which, someone has to do the work, I suppose,” suggested Frank.

“Precisely. Every one of the great powers has its set of secret agents. The peace of Europe has been saved more than once by these men. The game goes on daily, and our safety depends entirely upon our keeping our identity secret. More than one man has disappeared, never to be heard of again.”

“You don’t mean that they were assassinated?” demanded Jack.

“Exactly; nine times out of ten, when a secret agent is caught, his life pays the forfeit. Sounds barbarous, doesn’t it?” and Hetherington smiled.

“It certainly does,” replied Frank. “I thought the days of barbarism had passed.”

“Well, to tell the truth, England and France have given up such practice. Germany, Austria, and even Russia, in some cases, continue the old custom. So you may see why the life of a secret agent is not all roses.”

“I should say no roses at all,” declared Jack. “But go on with your story.”

“Well,” said Hetherington, “the situation is this, but,” and the speaker paused, “in case you haven’t political conditions in Europe at your finger-tips, I guess I had better explain how the great European powers are lined up.

“Germany, Austria and Italy, some years ago, formed what is now known as the Triple Alliance. This alliance sets forth that in case either country that signed the agreement is attacked by a hostile power, the other two members of the alliance are bound to support it. Although a natural enemy of Austria, Italy nevertheless was in some manner inveigled into the agreement, practically against her will. There is no doubt that in the days since the alliance was formed, she has been used as a cat’spaw by Germany. Now Italy is beginning to realize it.

“To offset the Triple Alliance and maintain the balance of power in Europe, England, France and Russia, a few years later, entered into a pact and the alignment of these three countries is known as the Triple Entente. While not bound to support each other in case of war, there never was any doubt that each would do so should the other be attacked. It was this knowledge that held the Kaiser’s warlike spirit in check until a few days ago.

“Now, in spite of the fact that Italy has begun to realize she is being used as a cat’spaw by Germany, and also in spite of the natural Italian antagonism toward Austria, Germany’s other ally, it will take more than this to keep Italy from joining her allies in the war. She is in honor bound to support the alliance, and she will, unless she can be made to believe that Germany, in secret conjunction with Austria, is plotting her downfall. And it is this that Italy must be made to believe.”

“But is that exactly fair?” Frank wanted to know.

“'All’s fair in love and war,’” quoted Hetherington. “Besides, we have learned enough through secret channels to know that it is true. Now we must make Italy see it without suspecting that we have had a hand in it.”

“Looks like quite a sizable job,” remarked Jack dryly.

“And so it is,” was the reply; “which is the reason I must be in Nalut as soon as possible.”

“Surely you don’t expect to accomplish all this by yourself?” exclaimed Frank.

“No, indeed,” replied Hetherington. “But I must do my part. The plans have all been laid, and day after to-morrow is the one set upon which to act.”

“But the thing I can’t see,” Jack broke in, “is why it is necessary to come to Africa to carry out the plans.”

“Well, it’s like this,” said the secret agent. “Suppose it became quite plain to Italy that Germany was aiding the Arabs in Tripoli to get up another serious insurrection against the Italian army——”

“But she’s not,” broke in Frank. “She has her hands too full elsewhere.”

“Who said she was?” demanded Hetherington. “But suppose old Francisco Dellaya, the great Italian diplomat, recognized as the foremost of all the diplomats in Europe, should come upon Abu ben Sedar, who has led more than one uprising against Italy, in Nalut, hobnobbing with a bearded man who presumably is in the Austrian or German army? Suppose he sees them about together once or twice? What do you suppose he’d think?”

“I see what you mean,” declared Frank. “But surely that would not be enough to satisfy him.”

“No; the plot goes deeper than that. But suppose, again, that he learned that Abu ben Sedar had been furnished with several thousand rifles of unmistakable German make, and that they had been delivered by a German vessel straight from Hamburg. Also a few machine guns. And suppose a hundred thousand freshly minted German and Austrian silver marks should be distributed to every hostile Arab in Tripoli? And suppose old Dellaya got wind of this? Do you see what I mean?”

Frank and Jack nodded affirmatively.

“This together with the fact that Dellaya had seen what he supposed was a German or Austrian officer pretty thick with Abu ben Sedar, would convince Dellaya that Germany and Austria were putting up some kind of a game on Italy,” continued the secret agent. “He would, without doubt, have the sheik followed, and we would see that he got plenty of evidence. Then would came a hurry call to his home government. And the next step would be that Italy, already only lukewarm toward the Triple Alliance, would withdraw its support, leaving Germany and Austria in the lurch. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly,” replied Jack.

“But is the Italian diplomat in Tripoli?” asked Frank.

“No,” replied the secret agent, “but he will be day after to-morrow. Once a year he takes a cruise as the guest of Lord Hastings, apparently a wealthy English gentleman, but in reality a member of the British secret service. He has made many trips to Tripoli, and knows probably every Arab sheik within a hundred miles. All this was counted upon when we laid our plans. Oh, he will be there, all right, and he will see just what we have planned for him to see.”

“But how does it come that you were captured in Naples by Captain Harwood?” Frank demanded.

“I was just making my way to the ship on which I had engaged passage when I was set upon by three men, apparently Germans. I was overcome and carried aboard the ship, where you found me. That’s all I know about it.”

“Do you think your mission was suspected?”

“I am afraid so. I fear we have been harboring a traitor.”

“Well,” said Jack, “it’s getting late. I guess we would better turn in. We must get an early start in the morning.”

CHAPTER VII.
ON THE JOURNEY.

The sun had not yet risen in the east when the three friends arose. Jack prepared a hasty breakfast, after which he fared forth to see about obtaining camels for the journey. He was successful in his quest, and the edge of the sun creeping over the horizon could just be seen when they prepared to mount.

Frank climbed upon the kneeling camel with no little trepidation.

“I don’t know anything about camel riding,” he called to the others.

“Just hold tight when he gets up and you will be all right,” replied Jack.

Frank took a firm hold in accordance with instructions, and it was well that he did so, for otherwise he would have been sent tumbling over the animal’s head.

The camel rose on its hind feet first, and Frank was hurled forward on his back. Just as he succeeded in grasping the camel about the neck, the animal lifted his front feet and Frank went hurling back again. Only his tight hold saved him from being thrown.

“Great Scott!” he ejaculated. “This is worse than a sea voyage.”

“You are all right now,” called Hetherington from the back of his own camel.

“You will soon get used to it,” declared Jack. “Come, follow me,” and he headed his camel toward the west.

All morning they rode along without interruption. Several times they passed riders going in the opposite direction, but they did not halt. At noon they stopped in a little grove of trees, where they ate of the provisions Jack had packed on the camels and quenched their thirst from a tiny and sparkling stream. Then they continued their journey.

Darkness had fallen when they made out in the distance the little town of Nalut. The camels now quickened their pace and the little cavalcade was soon within the city.

“The first thing to do,” said Hetherington, “is to find a place to put up for the night.”

“I know of a place I believe we can find shelter,” said Jack, leading the way.

Presently they came upon a fairly large house near the center of the town. Jack went up to the door and knocked loudly. An old man, with snowy white hair, answered the knock.

“Jack,” he cried in English, when he caught sight of the lad in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“I came with a couple of friends,” Jack replied, “and we are looking for a place to spend the night. Can you accommodate us?”

“Certainly,” was the reply. “Come right in.”

The three entered the house and followed the old man to what appeared a small dining-room. There their host left them, saying that he would have something to eat brought them.

“He’s about the only white man in the town,” Jack explained. “He has lived here for many years. As you see, his house is unlike the native dwellings. He keeps up European customs as well as he can.”

Soon the old man returned, followed by a native servant, bearing food. The three ate hungrily, and immediately their appetites were satisfied followed the old man upstairs, where he showed them a couple of cots. They turned in immediately and soon were fast asleep.

“Where are you to meet your companions?” Frank asked the secret agent, when they had breakfasted the next morning.

“No particular spot was designated,” was the reply. “I was told to meet them in this town, that’s all. I suppose I shall run into them in the street some place.”

The three walked about the streets all morning, and were just about to return to the house where they had spent the night, when a white man in yachting costume approached.

Hetherington rushed up to him with outstretched hand. Frank and Jack stood back.

Hetherington and the stranger remained in conversation for some moments, and then approached the two lads.

“This is Lieutenant Edwards,” introduced Hetherington. “Lieutenant, Frank Chadwick and Jack Templeton.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m sure,” greeted the lieutenant, extending a hand, which both boys grasped in turn. “Hetherington has told me of what assistance you have been to him. Let me add my thanks to his.”

“Where are Lord Hastings and the rest of the party?” demanded Hetherington of the lieutenant.

The lieutenant glanced at the boys quickly, a question in his eyes. Hetherington noted the look.

“Oh, they are all right,” he said.

“Well,” said the lieutenant. “Lord Hastings and Dellaya will be along to-morrow. The others were delayed in some unaccountable manner, so we shall have to work without them; and quickly, too,” he added.

“But the arms and ammunition?” cried Hetherington in alarm.

“Oh, that part is all right. The ship will land the arms and ammunition at a point already selected in the Gulf of Sidra day after to-morrow. Also the money is ready. We must do our part in the meantime.”

“But if Dellaya sees me with the sheik he will know me in a minute,” protested Hetherington.

“I know it; therefore I shall have to play the part of the German officer.”

“But he knows you also.”

“True; but I shall be disguised. I have such a disguise as I am sure he will never penetrate. But I fear that he will know you the moment he lays eyes on you.”

“There is no doubt about that. What shall I do?”

“I guess you will have to remain behind.”

At this moment Jack broke into the conversation.

“Can’t I take his place?” he asked. “He won’t know me, that’s sure.”

“By Jove!” declared Hetherington. “I believe you can. What do you say, Edwards?”

The lieutenant hesitated.

Jack noted his uncertainty.

“I can give a good account of myself if it comes to a fight,” he declared. “Besides, I’m English and should be allowed to do something for my country.”

“Do you speak German?” asked the lieutenant.

“Yes,” replied Jack; “also a few native dialects.”

“I guess I can use you, then,” was the response. “I certainly need someone with me. I have a disguise that will do for you, too, I believe.”

“But how about me?” Frank demanded suddenly. “Don’t I get a part in this thing? It seems to me I should be allowed to take a hand.”

“Well, I won’t need you in this first trick,” declared the lieutenant, “but if I do need you, you can take my word that I shall call on you.”

And with this Frank was forced to be content.

Frank and Jack accompanied the two Englishmen to a place where the lieutenant had stowed a small suitcase. From this the Englishman drew out two suits of clothes, which he and Jack donned hurriedly.

Wearing heavy black beards and spectacles, shoes, hats and clothes of unmistakable German appearance, there was no question that the two would pass for Teutons anywhere.

“Now to find Abu ben Sedar. And in the meantime,” he continued, turning to Frank and Hetherington, “you two make your way to Lord Hastings’ yacht and wait there until I arrive. It would not do for us to be seen together.”

He gave them the directions and the two departed.

“Now for Abu ben Sedar,” said the lieutenant. “We must learn where he can be found.”

Upon inquiry they learned that the Sheik was encamped with many of his followers a few miles from the outskirts of the town.

“Well,” said the lieutenant, “we’ll have to hunt him up. The sooner we find him the better. Now, listen,” turning to Jack, “you say nothing unless I ask a question, and, whatever I say, agree with me. Do you understand?”

Jack nodded his head in the affirmative.

“Good. Now how are we to find the place where the Sheik is encamped, I wonder?”

“I have been here before,” answered Jack. “I know the place well.”

“Come, then; let us go,” said the lieutenant.

The two turned their faces toward the desert and set off at a brisk pace.

CHAPTER VIII.
SETTING THE TRAP.

Several hours later Jack and Lieutenant Edwards were taking coffee with the Sheik on a priceless rug before his tent in the desert. The lieutenant was too familiar with Arab customs to come to the object of his visit at once, so it was late in the afternoon when he finally brought up the subject.

“Sheik, what is the present attitude of your people toward the Italian aggressors?” he asked at length.

Abu ben Sedar was wary.

“Why do you ask that?” he demanded.

“Why,” explained the lieutenant, “I know that you have led more than one uprising, and I know the Arab nature too well to think they will kiss the hand that strikes them down. The spirit of the desert will rise again. Even now I have heard rumors——”

“'Tis as you say,” exclaimed the Sheik excitedly, springing to his feet. “We shall never submit to Italian rule. They have treated us like dogs. But we are biding our time. We need rifles, ammunition, money.”

“And that is why I have sought you out,” declared the lieutenant.

“You mean you have come to help us shake off the yoke of the oppressor?”

“Exactly. I am authorized to offer you arms for fifteen thousand men and silver enough to keep them all in the field for several months; in return for which, when victorious, you are to sign over eight hundred square miles of coast territory to the German government.

“But,” the Sheik protested, “I own no such land, nor do I know anyone who does. Even if the Italians were driven out I could not justly claim it.”

“But, Sheik,” said the lieutenant gravely, “when the Italians are driven out, you, the acknowledged leader of all the dissatisfied Arabs in the vicinity—the man who would be Sultan or Bey if successful—will have as good a title to the land as another, and the German government will accept it. Am I not right?” he asked, turning to Jack.

“You are,” Jack agreed.

The explanation was plausible, and the Sheik was flattered.

“They have heard of me in Germany, then?” he asked.

“Indeed they have,” said Jack, who from previous visits to Nalut knew something of the Sheik’s ancestry and fortunes. “They know that your genealogy runs back in an unbroken line far beyond the days of Carthage, and you are looked upon as the man of the hour in Tripoli.”

Greatly pleased to hear that his name was so well known in the land beyond the sea, the Sheik lost whatever suspicions he might have had and accepted the attractive proposition thus offered him.

“When will the arms be ready, and where will they be landed?” he asked.

“They will be landed in the Gulf of Sidra day after to-morrow,” was the lieutenant’s reply.

“Good!” exclaimed the Sheik. “I shall have them removed to a secret place in the desert, not to be used until we are fully prepared to strike. Now, about the money?”

“The silver will be turned over to you in Nalut to-morrow morning, if you will meet me there. Is that satisfactory?”

“Perfectly,” returned the Sheik, and he named a place and hour for the meeting the next day.

The Arab told off two of his men as an escort, and Jack and Lieutenant Edwards returned to the village, where they made their way to the house in which Jack had spent the previous night. There they turned in, satisfied that their end of the work had been satisfactorily accomplished.

While they were at breakfast in the morning, Hetherington burst into the room.

“Dellaya and Lord Hastings are in the village,” he exclaimed. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything is serene,” declared the lieutenant. “Is the money here?”

“Yes; it has been taken to the house of a man named Effidi. You are to take the Sheik there and turn it over to him. We will see that Dellaya is a witness of the transaction.”

“Good,” said the lieutenant, and he and Jack left the house to keep their appointment with Abu ben Sedar.

The Sheik was awaiting them, and the three made their way to the home of Effidi, where the money was formally turned over to the Arab.

Just as the transfer was being completed, the Sheik paused suddenly to listen. His keen ear had detected a sound in the next room. He approached the wall and peered through a crack.

“Dellaya,” he exclaimed in some alarm.

“What!” ejaculated Lieutenant Edwards, in well-feigned surprise.

“Dellaya,” repeated the Arab, “my good friend. If all Italians were like him, the Arabs would never resent the presence of Italian troops in Tripoli. But they are not, so we must make haste.”

Swiftly the three finished their business and Jack and the lieutenant left the house, leaving the Sheik in possession of the silver.

“Are you sure the arms will be landed to-morrow?” asked the Sheik, as they left.

“Sure,” replied the lieutenant. “They will be ready for you.”

“Good,” said the Arab. “I shall be there to get them.”

Hardly had Jack and the lieutenant disappeared when the great Italian diplomat, followed by Lord Hastings, made his way excitedly from the house.

“Did you catch the significance of what we have just overheard?” demanded Dellaya, of Lord Hastings, as they hurried away.

“I did,” replied Lord Hastings briefly. “It is fortunate we were here.”

“It is, indeed,” was the reply. “Italy has been the cat’spaw of the German emperor too long. Strive as she will, Italy cannot stand by her partners in the Triple Alliance in the face of such treachery. But I must make sure. This ammunition they spoke of—I must see it landed with my own eyes. I must find this rendezvous. Will you help me, Lord Hastings?”

“I shall be glad to,” was the reply. “My yacht is at your service.”

The two hurried on their way.

Returning to the house in which they had spent the night, Jack and the lieutenant removed their disguises, and the lieutenant made ready to take his departure.

“Well,” he said to Jack, “I want to thank you for your aid, and I guess it is good-by, now.”

“Why,” demanded Jack, “can’t you take me with you? I haven’t done much, but I might be of more use later on. I would like to go to England with you, so that I may offer my services to my country.”

The lieutenant hesitated.

“I guess it can be done,” he replied finally. “You are certainly entitled to go if you wish. Come along, then.”

Several hours later the two stood on the deck of Lord Hastings’ yacht Sylph. Lord Hastings and Dellaya were already there, and the lad was introduced as a young Englishman who wished to return to his home land. Frank already had been introduced as an American who was desirous of getting home. Lord Hastings declared that he was glad to be able to help them.

All that night and early the next morning the yacht cruised about, Dellaya always on the lookout for the sign of a ship bearing the arms and ammunition for the Arabs. It was almost noon before they sighted it, Dellaya still ignorant of the fact that he had been brought there purposely.

Small boats were rapidly landing arms from the ship, unmistakably a German vessel and flying a German flag, as the yacht bore down on it. Upon Dellaya’s request, the yacht sailed close enough for the Italian to see that the ship’s crew were apparently Germans.

Then the great Italian diplomat signified that he had seen enough. He turned to Lord Hastings.

“Would it be too great an inconvenience for you to cut short your cruise and take me back to Naples?” he asked.

“Certainly not,” was the reply. “But what is it you plan to do, signor?”

“I must report this strange proceeding to the Italian Foreign Office,” declared the Italian excitedly, “too long has Italy been a tool of Germany and Austria.”

“A tool!” exclaimed Lord Hastings in surprise.

“Yes; we have been suspicious, and now our suspicions have been confirmed. Beset by three countries as she is, Germany still has time to plot trouble for Italy!

“But I have seen enough to thwart this outrage. No longer will Italy be Germany’s cat’spaw. Probably we should have gone to the Kaiser’s aid if necessary. But now—no! So far as Italy is concerned, the Triple Alliance is dead!”

One week later, having just arrived in London, Frank and Jack learned of the success of the apparently trifling adventure in which they had taken a hand.

Despite repeated demands of the Kaiser that Italy live up to her obligations under the alliance, the Italian government had refused to support the German cause and take up arms against the Allies!

CHAPTER IX.
A DESPERATE PLIGHT.

“I believe that man is following us!”

It was Jack who spoke. He and Frank had now been in the English metropolis two days, and to-day were walking along the Strand, watching with the greatest interest the preparations for war.

Upon all sides troops were being moved through the streets, on their way to the front. They marched along singing and cheering, while from the walks great crowds cheered them as they passed. The boys had just resumed their walk after watching one body of troops pass, when Jack made the remark that begins this chapter.

“Followed!” exclaimed Frank in surprise. “Why should anyone follow us?”

“I am sure I don’t know,” was Jack’s reply; “but just the same I am sure that man is following us.”

“Well,” said Frank, “we’ll try and see if we can’t give him the slip. Come on!”

The lads quickened their pace and turned quickly into the first side street. As they rounded the next corner they glanced back and saw that the man Jack believed was on their trail hurrying after them.

“Quick!” said Frank, catching Jack by the arm, “into this store!”

The lads dodged into an open doorway, and a moment later saw their pursuer hurry by. The lads immediately slipped from the store and retreated in the direction from which they had come.

“Well, I guess we got rid of him, all right,” declared Jack.

“Have you ever seen him before?” asked Frank.

“His face seemed familiar, but I cannot place him,” was Jack’s reply. “Hold on, though,” he exclaimed suddenly, “I know now who he is!”

“Who?” demanded Frank.

“He was one of the sailors aboard Lord Hastings’ yacht. I remember that long, sharp nose. Now what do you suppose he is following us for?”

“You’ve got me. However, I guess he is not following us any longer!”

But Frank was wrong.

The man who had been following the two boys had not been thrown off the trail by their ruse. He was too old a hand at the game to be shaken off so easily; but he had recognized the fact that the boys knew they were being shadowed. Now he kept farther in the background, well out of sight. As a result the lads, upon returning to the American hotel, where they had taken rooms, were not aware that their pursuer had followed them to its doors.

After dinner the boys sat down in the lobby of the hotel, awaiting the arrival of Hetherington, who had promised to meet them there at 8 o’clock. A taxi driver entered, approached the desk, and a moment later a page started through the lobby, calling:

“Mr. Templeton! Mr. Templeton!”

“Here,” said Jack, rising.

The page handed Jack a letter.

“It’s from Hetherington,” Jack told Frank, after a hasty perusal. “Says he is unable to meet us here, but for us to come to his place in the taxi he has sent for us.”

“All right,” replied Frank. “But I must go upstairs a moment first,” and he started hurriedly for the elevator.

“I’ll wait in the taxi,” called Jack, and he followed the chauffeur to the street, where the taxi stood in the shadow of the hotel.

The chauffeur opened the door and the lad climbed in. As he did so, two strong hands reached out from the darkness of the cab and took him by the throat, while a third hand was clapped over his mouth to prevent his making an outcry. At the same moment the door was slammed shut, and the taxi rolled swiftly away.

Jack struggled desperately, but in vain. The sudden attack had been well timed and, struggle as he would, Jack could not shake off the hold on his throat, but soon sank back unconscious.

Then the hand upon his throat relaxed and a voice exclaimed in German:

“He’s as strong as an ox. It’s a good thing both of them didn’t come.”

“Well, we have got him, all right,” came a second voice, “and this is the one the chief wants, I am sure.”

When Jack regained consciousness the taxi was still rushing swiftly along, and the lad found that his hands were securely bound behind his back.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded of the darkness of the cab.

There was no reply, and Jack repeated:

“I say, what’s the meaning of this?”

“You will know soon enough,” replied a voice in a harsh tone. “In the meantime, if you don’t keep quiet, we shall gag you!”

Under this threat, Jack held his peace.

For almost an hour the taxi bowled along swiftly, then finally came to a stop. One of Jack’s captors alighted, and the other pushed Jack from the cab. They dragged him up a short gravel path to a rather pretentious looking house and into the door.

In the house the lad was taken to the third floor, where he was led into a nicely furnished room. Then his hands were untied, and his captors backed out of the room, locking the door behind them.

“I wonder what on earth this is all about,” Jack asked himself when he was left alone. “I’ll bet they have me mixed up with someone else. Well, I’ll have to wait and see!”

For an hour Jack sat silently awaiting the arrival of someone; but no one came.

“Guess I might as well lie down and get a little rest,” he told himself finally; “I’m likely to need it.”

He lay down on a couch at one end of the room and was soon asleep.

Two hours later he opened his eyes again. A drop lamp was lighted upon the table, which also contained a tray with a most appetizing supper of broiled squab, salad, ices and coffee. The boy arose, and for the first time explored the room.

The door was of oak, two inches thick, and was bolted upon the outside. Deciding that no personal violence was intended for the present, Jack thought he might as well fortify himself with a good meal.

As to his whereabouts he hadn’t the slightest idea. He had scarcely finished the squab, when the door was unlocked and a burly man with a blonde beard and the general appearance of a savant came in.

Carefully securing the door behind him, the visitor drew a chair up to the table and comfortably seated himself.

“I trust the supper is to your liking, Mr. Templeton? You have everything you wish?”

“Yes,” replied Jack, as he pushed back his chair; “and now, would an explanation of why I was brought here be in order?”

“Why, yes, I guess so,” was the reply.

“I’ll be glad to hear it,” said Jack.

“Well, I have been led to believe that, through the activity of England, the life of the Triple Alliance was snuffed out. I think that admission will do no harm; and while, of course, I might have snared a greater bird than you—a man higher up—I decided that you would not be so quickly missed.”

“But what have I to do with the death of the Triple Alliance?” demanded Jack.

The German, for such Jack knew him to be, shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

“You see, we have discovered the part you played in Tripoli,” he said. “Knowing enough to be allowed to take part in such a coup, you must know a great deal more. I know that the Triple Alliance was put to death through English aid; and I know that you know it. Also I know that you know how it was done, and the names of all connected with the coup. That is what I expect you to tell me.”

“Well,” said Jack quietly, “I won’t!”

“Come now,” was the reply. “I know you know these things.”

“Admit for the sake of argument, then,” said Jack, “that I have certain information. How do you intend to extract it—against my will?”

“It does appear difficult to you, doesn’t it?” was the rejoinder. “But we have learned to manage all that with little trouble.”

“You’ll not manage me!” declared the lad.

The visitor smiled.

“Are you familiar with the weed that produces what is called the Sleeping Sickness?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Jack, becoming interested, for he had seen many animals unconscious for hours after eating the weed.

“Very well,” continued the visitor. “Now, I will tell you that we have extracted the juice of the weed, and that the liquid can easily be mixed with any sort of food or drink. Do you follow me?”

Jack nodded his head.

“Whoever eats food or drinks anything containing a quantity of this shortly becomes delirious, and while in that condition will talk of the things that have been most impressed upon his mind. In the food you have just eaten a sufficient amount of this tincture has been placed to put you in such a condition.”

Jack was conscious of a cold chill running through his back at the possibilities so coolly suggested, and his jaw set with a great determination.

“But suppose I should not talk?” he asked.

“There is not one chance in a million of failure,” was the reply; “but, if it does fail, I shall probably consider it necessary to do something worse.”

Again the cold chill ran through Jack’s body. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so the visitor rose from his seat, remarking:

“Perhaps you will tell me what I desire to know without all this unpleasantness, eh?”

“No,” replied Jack.

“Very good, then. I have talked enough,” and he approached Jack. “It is time to act!”

CHAPTER X.
FRANK TO THE RESCUE.

Jack jumped to his feet, prepared to fight. But before he could strike a blow he reeled and fell to the floor. The German picked him up and laid him on the couch. Then, unlocking the door, he called softly. There was the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs, and a moment later two other men entered the room. One carried a physician’s case. He opened it and administered a drug to the unconscious boy.

Soon Jack’s lips moved slightly, a few muttered words became audible and the three men leaned nearer to catch them. The voice became stronger:

“I want my pay! Two pounds four! Oh, you would, would you! Then take that! I’ll go through the skylight! Well, I’ve got one of them, anyhow! Now for the next! Safe at last! I don’t want the gold! I want two pounds four!”

For an hour the Germans listened to monotonous repetitions of the same thing—then the effect of the drug wore off and the lips became silent. Again the drug was administered, but the effect did not vary by so much as a word.

During the experiment three shadows had crept silently upstairs. For just a moment they listened, and then the heavy oak door was pushed open, and, with Frank in the lead, the three entered the room.

Frank leaped forward, and with a heavy blow sent the man who was bending over Jack reeling. The latter drew a revolver and fired point blank at the lad.

But Frank had seen the move, and ducked, closing in as he did so, and the bullet sped harmlessly over his head, imbedding itself in the door. Frank grabbed the barrel of the revolver before the man could fire again, and twisted—striking out with his free hand as he did so.

Struck upon the point of the jaw, the German reeled back again, leaving his weapon in Frank’s hand. The lad followed up his advantage and struck his opponent another stinging blow. The man fell to the floor.

In the meantime, the other rescuers, who turned out to be Hetherington and Lord Hastings, had taken care of the other Germans. Lord Hastings, leaping across the room at Frank’s heels, had placed one hors du combat with a single blow, and Hetherington, after a brief struggle, had succeeded in overcoming his adversary.

Frank bent over Jack and shook him, but the latter did not open his eyes. Again and again Frank shook him, with the same result. Lord Hastings approached the couch, reached over and lifted Jack’s eyelids with his finger.

“The sleeping sickness!” he ejaculated. “I recognize the symptoms. He must have a physician at once. We must put him in the car and get him to my place quick.”

The unconscious lad was hastily carried to a waiting automobile, and was soon laid on a comfortable bed in Lord Hastings’ home.

“Is he going to die?” asked Frank of Lord Hastings.

“Not necessarily. The sleeping sickness is not always fatal, but his condition is dangerous.”

The physician arrived a few moments later, and after a careful examination, announced that with perfect quiet Jack would live. A little delay, he said, would probably have proven fatal.

For two days Jack hovered between life and death, but upon the third day the physician pronounced him out of danger. Then, for the first time, Frank, who had removed his belongings from the hotel to Lord Hastings’ home to be near, was allowed to see his friend.

“Well, old man,” he said, “you have had a narrow escape.”

“So the doctor told me,” replied Jack.

“Yes,” declared Frank, “and you have proved yourself quite a hero.”

“Hero!” exclaimed Jack. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You haven’t, eh! Why, anyone who would go through what you did, when you could have prevented it by a few words, is a hero, all right.”

“Oh, that was nothing. I was sure they wouldn’t learn anything through me. Besides, you wouldn’t have had me tell my country’s secrets, would you?”

“There are a good many who would have done so rather than to go through what you did.”

“Would you have told?”

“Well,” said Frank, “I don’t know. I don’t believe I would.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. But now, tell me how you happened to arrive just in the nick of time. I know I owe my life to you.”

“When I came downstairs and went to the street to join you in the taxi,” Frank explained, “there wasn’t any taxi in sight. I was sure you wouldn’t have gone on without me. Recalling the fact that we had been followed that afternoon, I became suspicious. I put two and two together, and events proved that I added them up right.

“I got Hetherington on the telephone. He said he had sent you no letter, and that he was just leaving to meet us. He hurried to the hotel, and after I explained the situation, we rushed to Lord Hastings’.

“It took us four hours to find the place where you had been taken. I certainly could never have found it by myself. Lord Hastings had every policeman in London interrogated, I guess, and we finally received word that one had seen two men, apparently carrying another, enter the house where we found you. Lord Hastings immediately recognized the house described as the home of a well-known and prominent Austrian.

“We rushed to the house, and it took us about half an hour to find a way to get in, so heavily were the windows and doors barred. Also we knew we had to be very quiet, for, if our presence had become known, your captors would undoubtedly have killed you before making their escape.

“We finally effected an entrance through the front door, Lord Hastings succeeding in picking the lock after some difficulty. Then we hurried upstairs. We found the room you were in by the sounds of the voices of your captors. Lord Hastings realized immediately what the Germans were trying to do, and we broke in the door. They put up a fight, but we soon had them safe. That is all there is to the story.”

“Where are they now?” demanded Jack.

“Oh, they are safe enough. They are being held as prisoners of war, although it was first planned to have them shot as spies.”

The two boys were silent for some time, and finally Frank said:

“Jack, I have an idea and I want to know how it strikes you!”

“All right. Let’s hear it.”

“What is the matter with us enlisting and seeing a little real fighting?”

“Why, I have been figuring on that all the time. That is why I came to England. But you are an American. I don’t see why you should want to fight.”

“Maybe I am, but my ancestors were English. Besides, I want to see something of this war, and I can’t see it in London. I want to be where the fighting is.”

“Well, I’m glad. I guess Lord Hastings can arrange it so we can be together.”

“I guess so, too. We’ll speak to him as soon as he comes in.”

CHAPTER XI.
OFF TO THE WAR.

“So you want to go to war, eh?”

It was Lord Hastings who spoke. Frank and Jack had lost no time in putting their plans before him when he returned home the evening on which the two lads had talked over their future.

“Yes!” replied both lads, in the same breath.

Lord Hastings stroked his mustache.

“Well,” he said, “if you have set your minds on going, I know there is no use of my trying to stop you. Now, I have a plan that I believe will meet with your approval.”

The boys listened eagerly as Lord Hastings continued:

“As you know, the British home fleet is in the North Sea, bottling the Germans up in Kiel and Helgoland. There is likely to be a battle there almost any time. My yacht, the Sylph, has been converted into a scout cruiser, and has been heavily armed.

“Although the Sylph is listed as being able to make a speed of only twenty knots, nevertheless it is swifter than any of our war vessels. This unknown speed has been useful more than once. My naval rank is that of captain, and I have been ordered to the North Sea with the Sylph!”

“What!” exclaimed the two lads, and Frank continued:

“Why cannot you take us with you?”

“Just what I was about to propose,” declared Lord Hastings. “Would you like to go with me, or would you prefer to join the army?”

“The sea for me!” exclaimed Jack.

“For me, too!” declared Frank.

“Good!” replied Lord Hastings. “Then that part is settled.”

“But what will be our duties?” asked Jack.

“Well, while you will be only unofficial members of the crew, in view of the service you have done for England, I believe my influence is great enough to have you rated as midshipmen.”

“But we know nothing of naval warfare,” declared Frank.

“The chances are that we won’t have to do a great deal of fighting,” explained Lord Hastings. “But I guess you will both be able to give a good account of yourselves if we do.”

“We shall do the best we can,” declared Frank.

“You won’t find us shirking our duties,” Jack agreed.

“I’m sure of that,” replied Lord Hastings, rising. “I must go now, and I shall try and get your appointments to-night. I shall let you know what success I have in the morning. Good-night.”

Lord Hastings left the room, and Frank and Jack immediately fell into a discussion of the times that were to come. So interested did they become in their talk that it was well after midnight when they finally went to bed.

They were up bright and early the next morning, however, so eager were they to learn the result of Lord Hastings’ mission, and were already there when that gentleman entered the breakfast room with a smile on his face.

“Well,” demanded Frank, so anxious that he was unable to wait for Lord Hastings to speak, “is it all right?”

“Did you fix it?” asked Jack.

Lord Hastings nodded.

“Yes; it’s all right,” he replied. He drew from his pocket two official and important looking papers. “Here are your appointments as midshipmen in his majesty’s navy. You have been assigned to the Sylph, under my command.”

“Hurrah!” cried Frank.

“Hurrah!” shouted Jack.

Lord Hastings smiled quietly at their enthusiasm.

“I am glad you are pleased,” he said.

“You bet we are pleased,” said Jack. “We can never thank you enough.”

“We certainly can’t,” declared Frank. “But when do we go?”

“Now, don’t get excited,” laughed Lord Hastings. “There is plenty of time. We shall go on board the Sylph to-night and sail about midnight. Now come with me, and we’ll see about getting your uniforms.”

Their uniforms obtained and their other needs having been supplied, the boys spent the rest of the day strolling about the city. So great was their impatience to be off that the hours dragged by slowly and time hung heavily on their hands as they wandered about, waiting for six o’clock, when they were to meet Lord Hastings at his home.

As with everything, however, the time came and passed, and Frank and Jack at last stood again upon the deck of the Sylph. It was almost midnight when the little scout cruiser finally slipped her cable and steamed proudly down the Thames.

“Well,” said Jack, “we are off at last. I wonder where we shall be next month at this time?”

Frank shrugged his shoulders.

“Who knows?” he replied.

For several hours the two lads stood upon the deck, gazing over the rail into the dark waters of the river; but at length they turned in.

The Sylph was manned with a crew of 100 men, besides her officers. A small cruiser, she nevertheless had been an extremely large-sized yacht. All told she mounted ten eight-inch guns and several smaller pieces.

Used frequently as she had been by Lord Hastings on diplomatic and political missions, the Sylph had always been prepared to resist an attack, so that her present armament was only twice what it had been.

While the Sylph would stand little chance against one of the great German dreadnoughts or battle cruisers, Lord Hastings had little doubt that she could give a good account of herself in an encounter with some of the enemy’s smaller vessels. If he encountered one of the enemy’s bigger vessels, it was Lord Hastings’ plan to run, and he was positive that he could not be overhauled; for the Sylph had the heels of practically anything afloat.

Officers and crew were trained to the minute. Picked from among the flower of Britain’s sailors, drilled so that they went about their work like well-oiled cogs in a great machine, they were all eager to get into action.

Although rated as midshipmen, Frank and Jack were not assigned to fixed stations. They had been given a cabin just off the one occupied by Lord Hastings. The Sylph, ostensibly a pleasure yacht, had been fitted up with roomy and beautiful cabins, and this space, although the yacht now was a war cruiser, necessarily had to be utilized.

Under Lord Hastings, Lieutenant Edwards was the second in command. The next two ranking officers were Second Lieutenant Taylor and Third Lieutenant Harvey.

Bright sunlight streamed into the cabin occupied by the two boys when they awoke the morning following their departure from London. They jumped up, dressed hurriedly, and went on deck. There was no land in sight, nor was there even a sail in the distance; nothing but water as far as the eye could see.

The little cruiser steamed swiftly along, rising and falling gently with the swell of the sea. For a long time the boys stood gazing out over the water, and they were still there when Lord Hastings approached.

“Good morning,” he greeted them. “How do you think you will like life on the ocean wave?”

“It’s glorious,” replied both lads in a single voice. “Where are we?”

“We are headed straight for the North Sea,” was the reply.

“Is there any danger of our meeting a German warship?”

“Very little. Of course, there may be a cruiser prowling about, but I doubt it. I did hear, however, that there was a German cruiser in these waters several days ago. Nothing has been heard of her since, in spite of a keen search. She has probably put into some neutral port. In that event she must either leave in twenty-four hours or disarm until the end of the war.”

“Are we to join the fleet immediately?”

“No, not immediately. We shall do some scouting for several days off the Scandinavian coast, trying to pick up some of the Germans who, under neutral colors, have been laying mines in the North Sea.”

“But isn’t there some danger of our striking a mine?”

“Not around here. Farther along, of course, we shall have to be extremely careful.”

For two days the Sylph continued on her way without incident.

Frank and Jack quickly fell into the routine life aboard the cruiser, and performed such duties as were from time to time assigned to them in such manner as to draw forth the praise of Lord Hastings and his officers.

It was on the third evening after leaving London that Frank and Jack, who were standing on deck, were startled by a cry from the lookout:

“Cruiser off the port bow, sir!”

The word was passed and Lord Hastings quickly appeared on deck.

“A German, as sure as I am a foot high!” he declared, after a long and careful scrutiny through his glass.

“She’s a German, sir,” agreed Lieutenant Edwards, “and she is headed directly for us.”

“We’ll go a little closer, and try to make out her identity,” was Lord Hastings’ order. “Slow down to fifteen knots!”

Soon the ship, at first but a speck in the distance, was close enough for Lord Hastings to make out her colors.

“American!” he said; then turning to Lieutenant Edwards, added:

“Try her on the wireless!”

“No reply,” came the answer from the wireless room a few moments later.

Still the ships continued to draw nearer to each other.

Suddenly the American flag at the masthead of the stranger fluttered down, and a moment later the German colors were run up in its stead.

At the same moment a loud boom sounded from across the water, and there was a great splash in the water behind the Sylph.

The wireless operator approached Lord Hastings:

“A message from the German, sir!” he said.

Lord Hastings took the slip of paper extended to him, and read aloud:

“Surrender, or we shall blow you out of the water!”

CHAPTER XII.
A BRUSH WITH THE ENEMY.

Lord Hastings turned to the operator with a smile.

“Tell him to blow away!” he said, and the operator departed, grinning broadly.

The first shades of darkness were now beginning to encircle the little vessel.

“The enemy has the range of us,” said Lord Hastings to Lieutenant Edwards, as a second shell whistled over the bow of the vessel, kicking up a great splash in the water.

“Yes, sir,” was the reply; “our guns are ineffective at this distance.”

Under Lord Hastings’ command, the Sylph came about, and headed back in the way she had come.

“What would you say she is making?” asked Lord Hastings of Lieutenant Edwards, indicating the approaching German cruiser.

“About twenty-one knots, sir.”

“Good. Set our speed at twenty-four, then.”

“Very good, sir.”

The Sylph seemed to leap forward. Then Lord Hastings took the time to explain his plans.

“We don’t want to run entirely away from her,” he explained. “We want to keep just enough ahead of her so she will continue the chase. Darkness will be upon us in an hour. I should like to capture that cruiser single-handed, and some method may present itself. But in the meantime we must keep out of range of her big guns.”

The Sylph gradually drew away from her pursuer. When the distance between the two vessels was such that Lord Hastings deemed accurate shooting by the German impossible, the speed of the Sylph was reduced to twenty-one knots.

These relative positions the two vessels maintained until darkness fell; then the glare of a searchlight aboard the German fell upon the Sylph and lighted her up like day. So the chase continued for another hour.

Suddenly the wireless operator came on deck, and rushed breathlessly up to Lord Hastings.

“I have just picked up the British cruiser Lancaster,” he cried. “I told her we were being chased by a German cruiser, and she is coming to our aid. She gave her position as twenty miles west of us, sir.”

“Good,” replied Lord Hastings. “Keep in touch with the Lancaster.”

The operator departed.

“How is she headed?” demanded Lord Hastings of Lieutenant Edwards.

“Due west, sir,” was the reply.

“Make it west by south,” ordered Lord Hastings.

“Very good, sir!”

Gradually the Sylph bore off toward the south, the German cruiser still in pursuit.

For more than an hour the chase continued, the Sylph still keeping the same distance ahead of the German. Then from the northwest came the distant flash of another searchlight.

“Ship off the starboard bow, sir!” came the cry of the lookout.

“Slow to fifteen knots!” came Lord Hastings’ order, and there was a perceptible diminishing in the speed of the Sylph.

Still the German cruiser came on, quickly reducing the distance between the two vessels. Then, suddenly, the light that illumined the Sylph disappeared; the searchlight on the German had been turned in another direction.

“She has sighted the Lancaster, sir,” said Lieutenant Edwards.

“So she has,” replied Lord Hastings. “Bring the Sylph about, and make your course north by east, Lieutenant Edwards.”

“Very good, sir,” was the lieutenant’s reply, and the Sylph came about quickly.

Hardly had the little vessel laid herself out on her new course, when Lord Hastings’ voice rang out:

“Full speed ahead!”

The Sylph jumped forward like some live thing, and headed in the direction of the German cruiser, still bearing somewhat to the south.

Frank and Jack watched all these maneuvers with the greatest of interest. When the word was passed that the vessel approaching was a German cruiser, the boys had been greatly excited; and, when the Sylph had turned and fled from the enemy, their disappointment knew no bounds.

“Great Scott!” Frank exclaimed. “We are running away!”

“I don’t believe Lord Hastings is the man to run very far,” Jack replied. “Besides, you can see as well as I can that the Sylph is no match for the German. She would shoot us out of the water before she approached within range of our guns.”

“Perhaps so,” returned Frank, “but just the same I would rather fight than run away from that cruiser, big as she is.”

“I feel the same way. But 'discretion is the better part of valor,’ you know. Besides, I believe Lord Hastings has some scheme in his mind.”

“Well, I hope so,” declared Frank.

The boys had spied the distant light of the approaching Lancaster practically at the same moment as had the lookout; and, when the Sylph once more came about and headed toward the German cruiser, Jack exclaimed:

“What did I tell you? I said Lord Hastings wasn’t the man to run far, no matter how great the odds against him.”

“You are right,” was Frank’s reply. “It looks as though we were to see a little action.”

“Yes, and it’s likely to be a pretty sizable fight, or I miss my guess,” returned Jack.

For fear of giving notice of their approach to the enemy, who now apparently had forgotten the existence of the Sylph in the approach of the Lancaster, the call to quarters was not sounded on the Sylph. Upon orders of Lord Hastings, Frank and Jack went quietly about the ship, summoning the men to their posts.

There was not a light upon the Sylph as the little vessel bore down upon the enemy. The searchlight of the Lancaster now enveloped the German, and the searchlight of the latter now played upon the swiftly oncoming British cruiser.

On the Sylph everything was ready for the struggle. The perfectly drilled crew had cleared for action in no time. Lord Hastings and Lieutenant Edwards made a round of inspection, and spoke inspiring words to the members of the crew.

“Remember the words of Lord Nelson,” cried the former, “'England expects every man to do his duty!’”

A cheer was quickly silenced when Lord Hastings raised his hand for quiet.

“Our chance of coming out of this engagement alive,” Lord Hastings said to the gun crews, “is that you make every shot count. A vital spot must be hit at the first fire. The enemy’s great guns would tear us to pieces. If we can take them by surprise, we have more than an even chance of success.”

Lord Hastings returned to his place on deck.

Nearer and still nearer the Sylph crept toward her foe; and now the speed was reduced to fifteen knots.

“Another ten minutes and we shall be near enough to strike,” declared Lord Hastings to the group of officers about him. He turned to Jack and Frank. “Take your posts,” he said, “and keep me informed if we are struck and what damage is done by the enemy’s fire.”

Frank and Jack descended to the lower deck—now converted into the gun deck. Both lads were trembling with eagerness and excitement.

“How do you feel, Jack,” asked Frank, “scared?”

“No, not exactly,” was the reply. “I feel rather funny, though.”

“Same here,” said Frank, “but I guess we’ll get over that as soon as things break loose.”

“Yes; and they’re about due to break,” declared Jack.

Members of the gun crews joked each other good-naturedly, as they waited for the command to fire.

And still there was a death-like silence on the Sylph.

“Great Scott!” exclaimed Frank at last. “This is the longest ten minutes I ever saw!”

“Don’t you worry,” replied Jack, “they’ll be over——”

Then suddenly it came. Even from where they stood, the boys could hear the clear, quiet voice of Lord Hastings:

“Lieutenant Edwards, you may fire at will!”

CHAPTER XIII.
THE BATTLE!

There was an instant of awful silence; then came the command:

“Fire!”

There was a horrible noise, louder by far than the loudest clap of thunder; the Sylph quivered, then seemed to leap back. The big guns on the starboard side of the little vessel had poured forth their volley.

So close had the Sylph approached to the enemy without being discovered that a miss was impossible; and the suddenness of this unexpected attack took the Germans completely off their guard. There came a voice from above:

“A hit! A hit!”

The Sylph now shook and trembled continuously, as broadside after broadside was poured into the enemy, first from one side and then from the other, as the little vessel maneuvered, presenting first one side and then the other to the enemy.

Although taken practically unprepared, the Germans had no mind to give up without a fight. One of the shells from the Sylph had passed through the cabin of the commander, leaving death and ruin in its wake; a second tore a great hole through the smokestack, and she had been pierced in other vulnerable spots.

The marksmanship of the British gunners was superb!

But now the Germans had brought their big guns to bear on the little vessel. There was a gigantic boom, followed immediately by the sound of a great crash. The shell had struck one of the guns of the Sylph, blowing it to pieces.

There was a shower of iron, and men fell on all sides as it rained upon the deck. At Gun No. 2 the gunner crumpled up and fell to the deck just as he was about to fire.

“Report this to Lord Hastings!” cried Jack to Frank, and the latter rushed upon deck.

Jack leaped to the gun and touched it off with his own hand. His action was rewarded by a great shout from on deck, followed by a terrific explosion.

Another German shell struck the gun deck of the Sylph, and again several men went to the deck. But as they fell others jumped to take their places, Jack among them.

For another few minutes the battle raged without cessation. Jack continued to work like a Trojan; Frank, returning from above, where he had reported to Lord Hastings, saw his friend running, shouting, fighting with the others, stripped to the waist.

With a shout, Frank rushed to his side, arriving just in time to touch off a gun as the gunner fell beside it.

Then, suddenly, there came from above the command:

“Cease firing!”

As if by magic the night became still. After the great noise and confusion of the battle the sudden stillness was so intense that the boys’ ears hurt. Then they made their way to the deck.

And what a sight met their eyes!

Before them the sea was covered with a mass of wreckage. The stately German cruiser of a few minutes before was like so much floating débris.

“Great Scott!” exclaimed Jack. “Did we do all that?”

“I guess we did,” replied Frank.

“Mr. Chadwick! Mr. Templeton!” came the voice of Lord Hastings. “You will man two of the boats at once and pick up as many as possible of those poor fellows in the sea!”

The lads rushed to obey this order, and soon were busily engaged in rescuing the German sailors clinging to the débris and swimming about in the water.

For almost an hour they rowed about, picking up the unfortunate Germans.

Although a mass of wreckage, the German cruiser had not yet sunk, but it was plainly apparent that it was settling rapidly. On the bridge Jack made out the form of a man in uniform. It was undoubtedly the commander.

“By George,” declared Jack, “we must get him off!”

“It’s no use,” spoke up one of the German officers who had been picked up. “He refused to leave the ship. We tried to prevail upon him to jump, but he said he would stick to his post.”

“Even so,” replied Jack, “we must make an effort to save him.”

“It’s useless,” repeated the German.

The little boat was rowed closer in spite of the German’s words, and Jack called to the German commander:

“Jump, sir, and we will save you.”

The German looked at the lad, but made no reply, and Jack repeated:

“Jump. We will get you all right.”

Slowly the German commander drew a revolver, and, pointing it at the boat, exclaimed:

“Keep away, or I shall fire!”

As Jack did not immediately order his men to move away, the German officer in the boat exclaimed:

“You would better do as he says. Besides, the ship will sink in a moment, and the suction will draw us under if we do not move from here.”

At the same moment Frank, returning to the Sylph with his boat filled with survivors, called:

“Get back quick, Jack, or you will be drawn under!”

Jack looked once more at the German commander, who still stood with leveled revolver, and then turned to his men:

“Give way!” he commanded, and the little boat headed once more for the Sylph.

The small boat withdrew from the danger zone none too soon.

When still a few yards from the Sylph, Jack turned his face toward the sinking cruiser. As he did so, the sinking craft gave a convulsive shudder, then the sea closed over it. The last thing that Jack saw was the commander, standing calmly on the bridge, awaiting the end. He went to his death with bared head, standing at attention. Jack will remember the sight till his dying day.

“A brave man!” was all he said, lifting his cap from his head.

Back on the Sylph, Frank and Jack learned that the casualties in the battle had been comparatively slight. Ten men had been killed and twenty-two wounded. Two of the latter were not expected to live. The German shells had done considerable damage to the Sylph, particularly upon the gun deck. Lord Hastings declared, however, that this could be patched up with very little difficulty.

It was during a talk with Lord Hastings, while the commander of the Sylph and the two boys watched the approach of the British cruiser Lancaster, that Jack learned just what an important part he had played in the engagement.

“It was a single shot that put the German out of business,” declared Lord Hastings. “It was just after the first fire from the German hit us, killing some of the gun crew.”

Jack looked surprised, but said nothing.

“A second later,” continued Lord Hastings, “there was a single shot from the Sylph. The shell penetrated to the magazine on the cruiser, and it exploded. Although the Germans fought for some time thereafter, that was the shot that decided the battle; it was the shot that sunk the ship.”

He turned to Jack. “You were in the gun room at the time,” he said; “do you know who fired that shot?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Jack, in some confusion.

“Who was it, then?”

“I fired it, sir!”

“What!” exclaimed Lord Hastings and Frank in the same breath.

“Yes, sir, I fired it; but it was just luck that I hit anything.”

“A shot like that can hardly be called luck,” replied Lord Hastings.

“Well, it was luck as far as I am concerned,” said Jack. “The gun had already been sighted. I just touched it off when Mitchel fell to the deck.”

“The hand of Providence has surely been with us this night,” declared Lord Hastings.

A sailor approached with a message.

“A message from the wireless room, sir,” he said.

Lord Hastings took the paper he extended. He read aloud:

“Your report received. Congratulations on your gallant victory. We are proud of you all, and are sorry we could not be in at the death. Stand by, I am coming on board. Will relieve you of your prisoners.

(Signed) “Capt. T. T. Mayfair,

“Commanding H. M. S. Lancaster.”

Lieutenant Edwards approached at this juncture and saluted.

“A boat from the Lancaster is coming alongside, sir,” he reported.

CHAPTER XIV.
SAVED FROM THE SEA.

A few moments later a man, whose uniform proclaimed him a captain in the British navy, clambered over the rail to the deck of the Sylph. Lord Hastings advanced to meet him.

“A great piece of work, sir!” exclaimed Captain Mayfair, as he grasped Lord Hastings’ hand. “Allow me to congratulate you again!”

The two men disappeared in the direction of Lord Hastings’ cabin.

The wounded on the Sylph by this time had been cared for and the dead prepared for burial. Jack and Frank had lent what assistance they could in this work, and now had returned upon deck.

“Well, that was a pretty lively little scrap,” said the latter, as they leaned against the rail and looked out over the water.

“I should say it was,” replied Jack. “I was scared, too, for a few minutes.”

“Maybe you were, but you didn’t show it. The way you went about your work on the gun deck, with men dropping on all sides, didn’t look much like you were afraid.”

“Well, I was, just the same.”

“And to think that you fired the shot that decided the battle!”

“That was nothing but an accident, as I told Lord Hastings.”

“Perhaps so; but it was a fortunate accident for us.”

Further conversation was interrupted by the approach of Lord Hastings and Captain Mayfair. Lord Hastings introduced the two lads to the British commander, and the latter, laying his hand on Jack’s shoulder, exclaimed:

“So this is the lad who won the battle! It was a great piece of work, and England will not forget your action!”

Jack blushed in his confusion.

“I have told Lord Hastings, sir, that it was only an accident,” he replied.

“Nevertheless, your actions at such a time showed bravery and quickness of wit,” returned Captain Mayfair. Then, turning to Lord Hastings: “But I must go now. I shall send boats to relieve you of your prisoners.”

He shook hands all around, disappeared over the side and was rowed back to the Lancaster. A short time later the German prisoners captured by the Sylph were lowered into small boats, sent by the Lancaster, and, when the last had been disposed of, the Sylph continued on her journey toward the east.

Late in the afternoon of the following day, Frank, who stood upon the bridge, made out a distant speck upon the horizon. Save for this one little dot on the water, there was nothing in sight but the sea.

Frank reported his discovery to Lord Hastings, who ordered the Sylph’s head turned in that direction. He finally picked up the object with his glass.

“Looks like a bit of driftwood,” he declared, after a long scrutiny. “I guess there is no need of going further,” and he turned with an order to alter the Sylph’s course on his lips.

But at that moment Frank, who also had been gazing through a glass, cried:

“There is someone on it, sir!”

Lord Hastings stayed his command, and again leveled his glass.

“So there is,” he said finally, and ordered the Sylph forward with even greater speed. Presently the vessel drew close enough for the naked eye to discern a figure lying upon what appeared to be a small raft.

“Mr. Chadwick, take the launch and bring that man aboard,” ordered Lord Hastings.

Frank leaped to obey, and under his direction the launch was soon alongside the raft. As it drew close, the figure on the raft stirred, and then sat up.

“Great Scott!” ejaculated Frank. “It’s a girl!”

As suddenly as she had sat up, the girl dropped back again. Frank stood up in the launch, and, as the little boat drew up against the raft, he leaned over and picked up the girl and drew her into the launch. Then he ordered his men to return to the Sylph.

Aboard the little scout cruiser the girl was taken below, and finally was revived by the use of stimulants. Then, without uttering a word, she fell back again, and soon her deep, regular breathing proclaimed that she was asleep.

Frank returned on deck, where Jack was waiting for him.

“I wonder who she is, and what she was doing out there?” asked Frank.

“She is probably a survivor of some wreck,” replied Jack. “Did she say anything?”

“No; she did not recover consciousness until a moment ago. Then she immediately fell asleep. She is plainly exhausted after the peril she has undergone.”

“Well, I guess we shall find out all about her when she wakes up,” said Jack.

Lord Hastings, Lieutenant Edwards, Second Lieutenant Taylor, Frank and Jack sat at supper when word was brought that the girl was awake and desired to speak to the commander of the vessel.

“Escort her here,” commanded Lord Hastings, and he ordered a place set for her at the table.

A few moments later the girl appeared in the doorway. Frank, Jack and the officers rose, and Lord Hastings advanced to meet her, with extended hand.

“We are glad to have been of assistance to you,” he said, “and welcome you to supper, Miss——”

He paused.

“Beulow,” said the girl; “Alice Beulow.”

“Miss Beulow,” repeated Lord Hastings, “won’t you be seated?”

After an introduction all around, the girl took the seat indicated, between Frank and Second Lieutenant Taylor.

Frank gave her one swift glance as she sat down. Apparently about seventeen years of age, her face was unmistakably Teutonic, but she spoke English clearly and without an accent. She was tall and slender, and, Frank noted, very pretty.

“You have Mr. Chadwick to thank for our timely arrival,” Lord Hastings told her. “But for his keen eyes we should probably have passed without seeing you.”

The girl smiled brightly at Frank, and he blushed.

“I know I can never repay you,” she said, “and thanks are unnecessary for such a deed. I hope some day to show my appreciation, as will my father, when he learns how his daughter’s life has been saved.”

“I am sure I am glad to have been of service to you, Miss Beulow,” replied Frank. “But now won’t you tell us how you came to be in such a serious predicament?”

“It’s not a long story,” said the girl, “although it seems ages that I have passed through. In the first place,” turning from one to another with a smile, “I suppose you know that I am German?”

Lord Hastings nodded.

“I surmised as much,” he replied, “although I was unable to account for your excellent English.”

“Well, you see, while my father is a German, my mother is an American. I have been going to school in Massachusetts. When school was over this summer, mother and I went to California, and after returning east, went to visit my aunt in Copenhagen. Mother decided to stay several weeks longer, but I was anxious to see father, and so sailed without waiting for her.

“Regular traffic across the North Sea has been suspended, but I found, upon inquiry, a German vessel that was ready to make a dash for Kiel. I was anxious to get home, so I took passage, although I had to do an awful lot of talking before the captain would consent to taking me.

“We were hardly out of sight of land when a British cruiser came after us. The captain would not surrender, and fled. The British ship gave chase. In the darkness we succeeded in eluding our pursuer and in the morning had drawn out of sight.

“Just as the captain was congratulating himself upon his successful flight, there was a sudden terrific explosion, and we seemed to shoot high in the air.”

“A hidden mine, I suppose,” interrupted Lord Hastings.

“Yes,” replied the girl. “I heard the captain make that remark as I seemed to sail high in the air. A moment later I found myself in the water struggling. All around me I heard cries and shouts. My hand came in contact with something and I grasped it. It appeared to be a raft, and, after a hard struggle, I pulled myself upon it, almost exhausted.

“Then I think I must have fainted, for, when again I looked about me, I could see nothing but water. I had no food and no water to drink, and when I realized this I broke down and cried.”

“And no wonder!” exclaimed Frank.

“All that day and night, and late into the following night I watched for some sign of a vessel, but I saw none. After that I remember nothing until I awoke upon this ship.”

“You certainly have had a strenuous time,” declared Lord Hastings, “almost three days alone in the middle of the sea without food or drink is enough to shatter the nerves of the most hardy. I can only wonder that you bear up so bravely now.”

“Miss Beulow is certainly a remarkable young lady,” agreed Lieutenant Taylor, glancing at her admiringly. “I hope that we shall not soon lose her company,” and he smiled at her.

The girl ignored this piece of gallantry, and turned to Frank, and the two were soon engaged in a little conversation of their own.

“What am I to do with you, Miss Beulow?” asked Lord Hastings at length. “I had not planned to put into port for days.”

“That is not necessary,” replied the girl. “I would not put you to such inconvenience, although I suppose I should look upon you as an enemy.”

“I hope you may never do that,” said Lord Hastings gallantly.

“I am sure I never shall,” replied the girl. “I suppose the proper thing is for me to remain here until you put into some port. Father probably is with the army, and will not know of my disappearance, and mother will think I have arrived home safely. Yes, I guess that is the best thing to do.”

“Whatever you say. Miss Beulow,” replied Lord Hastings.

“When you land you may give me my liberty,” continued the young girl. “In the meantime, I am a prisoner of war; and, in that case, I must give my parole, mustn’t I?” she asked, with a bright smile.

Lord Hastings humored her.

“If you will,” he agreed.

“Well, then, I give my word that I shall make no attempt to escape,” and with that she arose, took the arm Frank offered her, and the two went on deck.

CHAPTER XV.
A PLOT OVERHEARD.

“Great Scott, Jack! Look!”

It was Frank who spoke. The two boys were standing in the shadow in the bow of the Sylph. Jack looked in the direction his companion pointed. A solitary figure was skulking along the deck.

“I see a man,” replied Jack. “What about it?”

“Didn’t you recognize him?”

“No; who is he?”

“The same man who followed us in the streets of London!”

“By George! You don’t mean it. Why haven’t we seen him before?”

“He is wearing a thick mustache. I don’t suppose I would have recognized him now if I hadn’t caught a side glimpse of his face.”

“Are you sure he is the man?”

“There is no question about it.”

“But what do you suppose he is doing here, skulking about the deck?”

“I don’t know, but he is up to no good, I’ll warrant.”

“You are right. Let’s follow him and see where he goes.”

“Good! Come on!”

Stealthily the lads followed in the steps of the sailor, keeping well in the shadow and far enough behind to prevent discovery.

Unaware that he was being followed, the sailor made his way straight to the cabin of Second Lieutenant Taylor. There he gave a sharp, peculiar knock, and the door was immediately opened. The man disappeared inside.

“Something up,” whispered Frank to Jack. “Guess we had better find out what is going on in there.”

The second lieutenant’s cabin was in the after part of the vessel, and a window overlooked the deck. The window was lowered a trifle, permitting a gleam of light to stream across the deck.

The two boys approached and cautiously peered into the cabin. They saw Lieutenant Taylor and the sailor seated at a small table, on which were a bottle and glasses, and they could plainly overhear the conversation that passed between them.

“I don’t like this eavesdropping business, but it is up to us to learn what is going on,” whispered Jack.

“Right you are,” replied Frank. “This looks suspicious to me. What business do you suppose Lieutenant Taylor can have with a man we are bound to believe is a German spy?“

“It’s too much for me,” said Jack; “but if we listen we may overhear something worth while.”

The two boys became silent, and, with their eyes to the small open space at the top of the window, listened breathlessly.

“How is everything going?” they heard the sailor ask Lieutenant Taylor.

“As well as could be expected,” was the reply. “I haven’t been able to do anything yet, however, for Lord Hastings has received no definite information or instructions.”

“But he will? Are you sure of that?”

“Perfectly. There are only a few men acquainted with Hastings’ connection with the British Admiralty. A captain of a scout ship, eh! Why, I know that if he chose he could, with the instructions he now holds, take command of the entire British fleet in the North Sea.”

“Is that so? Then you are positive we made no mistake when we selected the Sylph as the best place to learn England’s naval plans?”

“Absolutely positive. Not a move will be made of which Hastings has not had previous information. In spite of the wireless, this vessel is the real connecting link between the British Home Office and the North Sea fleet. I have it on good authority that, until further notice, Hastings will receive all messages from both directions. The reason for this, I understand, is that the government puts the utmost faith in his ability and loyalty.”

“Good,” replied the sailor. “Now what are your plans?”

“Well, a whole lot will depend upon circumstances; but the first thing I want you to do is to put yourself into the confidence of the wireless operator. In some manner I must have a copy of every message received and sent. Of course, all messages will be in code, but I have the key to that. You are an operator, are you not?”

“Yes.”

“All right. I must be kept posted, so that at the proper moment I can act. At that moment, your duty will be to transmit a message I shall give you. Before doing so, however, you will have to dispose of the operator.”

“I’ll attend to him,” broke in the sailor.

“Good. If there is no slip up in our plans, it will mean the destruction of the British fleet. Our work completed, we shall make our escape at night in the launch.”

“And our reward?” asked the sailor, as he rose to his feet.

“Oh, yes, our reward,” repeated Lieutenant Taylor, with a harsh laugh. “We are doing this for a reward, aren’t we? Well, promises will be kept. The Kaiser will reward us handsomely.”

“There is no reason to believe that we are suspected?” asked the sailor, as he moved toward the door.

“Not the slightest; and if we are careful, we can put this thing through without arousing suspicion. Good night. I want to turn in early as I must be about at daylight. I want to show the young lady we picked up to-day about the vessel. I understand her father is a high officer in the German army, and with the success of our venture—well, who knows?”

“You take my advice and let the girl alone,” growled the sailor. “A woman has spoiled more than one well-laid scheme.”

“Keep your advice to yourself, Hardy,” replied the lieutenant angrily. “Now, good night.”

Jack and Frank straightened up from their cramped position, slipped quickly down the deck and disappeared before the sailor emerged from the lieutenant’s cabin.

“Well, what do you think of that?” demanded Jack, as the two boys sat down in their own cabin.

“I don’t know what to think,” replied Frank. “Great Scott! Suppose no one had learned of their plans! What would have happened then?”

“I don’t know what might have happened,” returned Jack. “It certainly is a good thing you spotted that sailor, Hardy. We might not have had another chance of overhearing their plans.”

“I suppose the thing to do now is to inform Lord Hastings at once.”

“I suppose so. Or no, I believe it would do just as well to wait until morning. He has retired and there is no use arousing him. The plotters can do nothing to-night.”

“I guess you are right. By the way, what do you think of Taylor’s remarks about Miss Beulow?”

“I believe you are more interested in remarks concerning Miss Beulow than I am,” replied Jack, with a smile.

Frank blushed.

“Well, maybe so,” he said. “But she is a nice girl, and I don’t believe she would have much use for a traitor, even though he is plotting to deliver England into the hands of her own country. Do you?”

“I don’t know anything about it,” was the reply. “You can ask her in the morning if you like. In the meantime, let’s get some sleep.”

CHAPTER XVI.
A TRAP IS SET.

It was late the following morning when Frank and Jack succeeded in gaining a private hearing with Lord Hastings.

“Now what is it you have on your mind?” he asked, when they were finally seated in his cabin.

“There are traitors on board, sir,” said Frank quietly.

Lord Hastings bounded to his feet.

“What is that you say?” he exclaimed. “Traitors? It is impossible. You should be more careful of your language.”

“It is true, sir,” said Jack. “We overheard them plotting last night.”

Lord Hastings slowly resumed his seat.

“I know you must have good reason for your words,” he replied; “but I can scarcely credit them. Who are these traitors?”

“Well,” said Frank, “one of them is the man who followed Jack and me in London. He is a sailor on board, but, owing to a false mustache, I did not recognize him until last night.”

“And the other?” queried Lord Hastings.

“The other,” said Frank, “you will find it very hard to believe is plotting against England. He is an officer on board, sir.”

“His name?” demanded Lord Hastings.

“Second Lieutenant Taylor, sir!”

“What!” exclaimed Lord Hastings, jumping to his feet in great excitement. “Lieutenant Taylor?”

“Yes, sir,” said Jack. “We overheard the two of them plotting last night.”

Lord Hastings paced back and forth for several moments. Then he sat down again.

“Tell me what you heard,” he commanded at length.

Frank related, almost word for word, the conversation the boys had overheard between Lieutenant Taylor and the sailor, Hardy, the night before.

For a long time after Frank had finished Lord Hastings sat wrapped in thought.

“It seems incredible,” he muttered at length; “but I am forced to believe that your words are true.” Then suddenly to Jack: “Mr. Templeton!”

“Sir!” and the midshipman’s hand came to a salute.

“Summon Lieutenant Edwards and Lieutenant Taylor. Then have the word passed for Hardy.

“Yes, sir,” and Jack moved toward the door.

“May I make so bold as to offer a suggestion, sir?” Frank asked, before Jack could leave the cabin.

“You may,” was the reply, and Lord Hastings motioned Jack to resume his seat.

“I would suggest, then, sir,” said Frank, “that, for the time being, matters be allowed to stand as they are. Now that we know their plans, they can do no damage. In fact, by a little judicious juggling of the wireless we might even be able to turn the presence of the plotters here to our advantage.”

“In what way?” demanded Lord Hastings.

“Why, sir,” explained Frank, “suppose they are furnished with wrong information? Not knowing that they are discovered, they will continue with their plans. Lieutenant Taylor said that the success of their plan would mean the destruction of the British North Sea fleet. Evidently they intend, through the 'fake’ message he spoke of, to lead the fleet into a trap when they believe the time is ripe.”

“My idea exactly,” interrupted Lord Hastings; “but go on.”

“Well, they must be allowed to gain a certain amount of authentic information, so as not to arouse their suspicions. But, at the proper time, we must see that they get such false information as will lead them to believe it is time for them to act. In some manner, probably by wireless, Lieutenant Taylor plans to communicate with the German fleet at Helgoland. That is why our operator must be disposed of. They must be allowed to do this.”

“Why?” asked Lord Hastings.

“So that false plans of the British fleet having been sent to the Germans—false plans that we must prepare carefully—we shall trap the German fleet, or a portion of it, instead of being trapped ourselves. In this manner we may be able to strike the first naval blow of the war.”

“You mean that we may succeed in drawing the German fleet into the open?”

“Yes, sir. Of course Admiral Jellicoe must be informed of how matters stand and how they progress, so that he may act in conjunction with us.”

For fully half an hour Lord Hastings sat twirling his thumbs, turning this scheme over in his mind. Neither Frank nor Jack interrupted his meditations, both awaiting his decision anxiously.

“The only difficulty I can see in your plan,” said Lord Hastings finally, “is how we shall get word to Admiral Jellicoe without the plotters overhearing. You say Hardy is an operator?”

“Yes,” replied Frank, “but whenever we are ready to send a communication to Admiral Jellicoe that we do not wish overheard, or to any other place, it will be very simple for Lieutenant Taylor, and Hardy also, to be ordered to some duty at the far end of the vessel at that moment.”

“So it will,” said Lord Hastings, slapping his knee. “Your plan is a splendid one; and, if it works out, as I believe it will, you will have rendered England a tremendous service—one that shall never be forgotten.”

“Then you will act upon my suggestion, sir?” exclaimed Frank with great delight.

“I shall; and I want to say that I am proud to have two such youngsters with me. Why, you both have been of greater value to me than I ever believed it possible for anyone to be.”

“Thank you, sir,” said both lads in a single voice.

“You may go now,” Lord Hastings continued, “while I remain and work out the details of the plan. And remember, not a word of this to a soul. Send Lieutenant Edwards to me!”

The boys saluted and left the commander’s cabin.

Emerging upon deck, they saw Lieutenant Edwards and Miss Beulow strolling about. They approached the couple.

“Lord Hastings requests that you report to him at once,” said Frank, coming to a salute.

The lieutenant departed, and the two boys and the young German girl continued their promenade.

“Well, well, how is our little enemy this morning?” came a voice suddenly.

Turning, they beheld the smiling countenance of Lieutenant Taylor.

“Very well, thank you,” replied Miss Beulow coldly, then ignoring the lieutenant, turned to the two boys and resumed her conversation.

“Come, come,” continued the lieutenant, “don’t be so standoffish. I like you, even if you are a German.”

The girl made no answer to this remark, and the lieutenant, after gazing resentfully at her a moment, took himself off.

“Do you know,” the girl confided to the two boys, “I do not like your Lieutenant Taylor. He seems out of place among the rest of you, and it seems to me I have seen him some place before, though I cannot remember where.”

This remark pleased Frank hugely, although, for some reason he was unable to explain why, even to himself. Aloud he only said:

“I guess it’s just his way, Miss Beulow.”

“Perhaps,” was the reply; “but I don’t like his way.”

CHAPTER XVII.
FRANK MAKES AN ENEMY.

“You little whipper snapper! What do you mean by making remarks about me?”

A hand was laid on Frank’s shoulder and he was jerked roughly around, to find the angry face of Lieutenant Taylor confronting him.

Frank shook himself loose.

“I have been making no remarks about you,” he said quietly.

“Yes, you have,” was the angry reply. “Trying to shine up to the little German girl, are you?” and the lieutenant laughed sneeringly.

“Look here,” said Frank, his face turning red, “you leave Miss Beulow out of this. If you have anything to say to me, say it and get out of my way.”