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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:59:54 -0700 |
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+ max-width: 80%; } + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + max-width: 80%; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44824 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Sign of the Green Arrow, by Roy J. (Roy +Judson) Snell</h1> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by<br /> + Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan,<br /> + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="img"> +<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Sign of the Green Arrow" width="500" height="683" /> +</div> +<div class="img"> +<img src="images/icover.jpg" alt="Sign of the Green Arrow" width="500" height="723" /> +</div> +<div class="box"> +<p class="center"><span class="large"><b><i><span class="u">A Mystery Story</span></i></b></span></p> +<h1>SIGN OF THE +<br />GREEN ARROW</h1> +<p class="center"><i>By</i> +<br />ROY J. SNELL</p> +<div class="img" id="logo"><img src="images/logo.jpg" alt="Author’s Logo" width="200" height="91" /></div> +<p class="tbcenter">Reilly & Lee +<br /><span class="small">Chicago</span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="small">COPYRIGHT 1939 +<br />BY +<br />REILLY & LEE +<br />PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.</span></p> +</div> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<dl class="toc"> +<dt class="jr"><span class="jl"><span class="small">CHAPTER</span></span> <span class="small">PAGE</span></dt> +<dt><a href="#c1">I “This is Our Secret”</a> 11</dt> +<dt><a href="#c2">II Spooky Waters</a> 22</dt> +<dt><a href="#c3">III A Bright Eyed Beach-Comber</a> 34</dt> +<dt><a href="#c4">IV Spies</a> 46</dt> +<dt><a href="#c5">V Whispering Depths</a> 54</dt> +<dt><a href="#c6">VI Real Progress!</a> 73</dt> +<dt><a href="#c7">VII Mystery Singers of the Night</a> 82</dt> +<dt><a href="#c8">VIII Monster of the Deep</a> 96</dt> +<dt><a href="#c9">IX Dave’s Electric Gun</a> 105</dt> +<dt><a href="#c10">X Little Big-Heads</a> 115</dt> +<dt><a href="#c11">XI Tigers of the Sea</a> 125</dt> +<dt><a href="#c12">XII Johnny’s Day Off</a> 136</dt> +<dt><a href="#c13">XIII The Green Arrow Trail</a> 150</dt> +<dt><a href="#c14">XIV An Important Discovery</a> 161</dt> +<dt><a href="#c15">XV Adrift in the Depths</a> 167</dt> +<dt><a href="#c16">XVI Voice of Drums</a> 174</dt> +<dt><a href="#c17">XVII Marching on the Castle</a> 183</dt> +<dt><a href="#c18">XVIII The Battle</a> 192</dt> +<dt><a href="#c19">XIX On the Bottom</a> 204</dt> +</dl> +<div class="pb" id="Page_11">[11]</div> +<h1 title="">SIGN OF THE GREEN ARROW</h1> +<h2 id="c1"><span class="small">CHAPTER I</span> +<br />“THIS IS OUR SECRET.”</h2> +<p>It was midnight. Johnny Thompson paced +the deck of the <i>Sea Nymph</i> alone. He would +be doing this until daybreak. The tropical night +was glorious. There was a faint breeze—just +enough to ripple the waters where the phosphorescent +light thrown off by a million tiny +creatures rivaled the stars above.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_12">[12]</div> +<p>“Spooky,” he thought, meditatively. “Out +here all alone with the night.... Natives over +there.” He faced the east, where dark green +hills loomed out of the water. Over there was +a small island. Johnny never had been there. +Some time he’d get into a canoe and paddle +over. Earlier in the evening he had seen a light, +a white man’s light, he had thought, without +knowing why. He—</p> +<p>His thoughts were interrupted by someone +moving, up forward. Or was there? He had +supposed they all were asleep—the strange old +man, bony and tall, with goggle eyes and heavy +glasses, the tall young man and the blonde girl. +They all had berths forward. The captain and +mate were aft; the native crew, below deck. +There was no need for any of the crew, now. +The boat was anchored. Only he, Johnny +Thompson, was needed, to keep watch for +prowlers of the sea, or signs of a storm.</p> +<p>It was strange, this new job. He was not sure +just what these people were planning—some +scientific expedition, he thought. The ship’s +outfit was rather irregular, but he had been +glad of the chance to sign up as watch. He +loved the sea.</p> +<p>“Someone—” he said to himself, “—is moving, +up there.” He started forward, cautiously.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_13">[13]</div> +<p>He had covered only half the hundred and +twenty-five foot length of deck when suddenly +he beheld the girl of the party.</p> +<p>“Walking in her sleep,” Johnny thought, with +a touch of alarm. But she wasn’t.</p> +<p>“Hello!” She poked a hand from beneath her +midnight-blue dressing gown. “It’s too swell a +night to sleep.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” Johnny agreed.</p> +<p>“You’re not a regular watch, are you?” she +asked.</p> +<p>“That—er—” Johnny hesitated. “That’s not +my regular job. Nothing is. Does that matter?”</p> +<p>“No, I suppose not. Anyhow nothing could +happen, here.”</p> +<p>“Plenty could happen,” he contradicted, +quietly.</p> +<p>“How do you know?”</p> +<p>“I’ve been in the Tropics before. Natives get +ugly sometimes. They imagine white men are +getting the best of them—which, for the most +part, they are!” Johnny laughed. “Then there +are storms,” he went on. “Wildest place for +storms you’ve ever seen. Once I drifted before +a storm for thirty-six hours in a boat just +about like this, only—” he hesitated, “it was +different.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_14">[14]</div> +<p>“Yes,” the girl laughed, “it must have been, +as there’s not another boat quite like this in +all the world, I guess. It—</p> +<p>“Look!” she exclaimed softly, pointing toward +the distant island. “What’s that strange +light?”</p> +<p>“Light?” Johnny spun round. “Oh! Say—that +<i>is</i> strange! It’s green. A green light.”</p> +<p>“Like an arrow,” the girl whispered. “Green +arrow of the Tropics. Quite romantic! But +what can it be?”</p> +<p>“It’s not for us,” said Johnny. “It—it seems +to blink. Wait!”</p> +<p>Retracing his steps he went to a box of life-preservers +where he had left his heavy field +glass. He returned quickly to her side.</p> +<p>“Now,” he invited, “have a look!” He held +the glass in position for her.</p> +<p>“It—it <i>does</i> blink,” she murmured. “It’s like +an electric sign. Some lights go off; others go +on!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_15">[15]</div> +<p>“Let’s see.” Johnny took the glass. “Why—it’s +some sort of signalling,” he decided at once. +“But not for <i>us</i>!”</p> +<p>Instinctively they turned to scan the sea.</p> +<p>“There’s no other boat out there,” said Johnny. +“At least there wasn’t any at sunset. If +one had moved in, we’d see the light.”</p> +<p>“If there were a light,” whispered the girl, +“how gorgeously mysterious it’d be. How—</p> +<p>“Look!” she exclaimed. “Do you see it? A +green arrow out there on the sea?”</p> +<p>“No—oo,” Johnny said, after a moment of +gazing. “I can’t see it. Must have been a reflection +of that other light. That often happens, +you—”</p> +<p>“No!” The girl said, emphatically. “There! +I saw it again!”</p> +<p>“Perhaps I’m color-blind,” said Johnny after +another long look. “But I just don’t see it!”</p> +<p>At that he turned around to continue his +study of that land light.</p> +<p>“It’s strange,” he murmured. “I can’t quite +count the lights, but they <i>do</i> go on and off. +Irregularly, too. It must be a signal. But what +are they saying?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_16">[16]</div> +<p>“And to whom?” the girl added.</p> +<p>“Well,” she sighed a moment later, “we’ll not +learn the answer, at least not tonight. Because +it’s gone!”</p> +<p>“So it is,” said Johnny, after a long look at +the island.</p> +<p>“Sha—shall we tell them?” he asked after a +moment.</p> +<p>“Who? Grandfather and Dave? Oh—why +should we? It can’t be anything that affects +us! Let’s keep it for our own little secret. Perhaps +we’ll solve the riddle—”</p> +<p>“All right,” Johnny agreed, readily. There’s +a queer girl for you, he was thinking. She’d be +lots of fun, though.</p> +<p>“Is the elderly man your grandfather?” he +asked.</p> +<p>“Yes. Professor Casper’s his name. Only wish +I knew as much as he does. My name’s Doris—Doris +Casper.” She put out her hand. “I—I’ll +be seeing you. Good night. And don’t forget—it’s +our secret—sign of the green arrow!”</p> +<p>She was gone.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_17">[17]</div> +<p>“Sign of the green arrow,” Johnny whispered, +softly. “Perhaps I <i>should</i> report it to the professor. +And then again—perhaps I shouldn’t. +It can’t have a thing to do with this boat, +and it’s entirely out of my line of duty. The +girl wants to share a secret. Most girls do, in +fact. So why not?”</p> +<p>With that, for the present at least, the whole +affair was dismissed from his mind.</p> +<p>Half an hour later he found himself sitting +alone on the after deck, glancing away at those +dim, mysterious shores, and thinking back over +the events that had led up to this mildly exciting +night.</p> +<p>Two months before, he had found himself +in New York wanting a job, and not able to +find one. After three weeks of trying he had +grown somewhat bitter about the whole thing.</p> +<p>“I’m intelligent,” he had said to a prospective +employer. “I’ve always worked. I like it. +Why shouldn’t I have a chance?”</p> +<p>“Why not?” the grey haired man had replied +sadly. “I’ve asked that question often, but I +don’t know the answer. I only know we can’t +use another man.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_18">[18]</div> +<p>That very afternoon, while watching boats +moving out to sea, Johnny had his chance, and +took it. He caught sight of a young man, +struggling toward a gang-plank under a heavy +load.</p> +<p>“Give you a lift?” he had volunteered, +courteously.</p> +<p>“Whew! Yes.” The man mopped his brow. +“Looking for a dime?”</p> +<p>“Not yet!” Reddening, Johnny impulsively +jerked a few small bills from his pocket. “Not +broke, yet.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” The man looked at him with interest. +“Say!” he exclaimed. “I shouldn’t wonder if +you’d do!”</p> +<p>“For what?” the boy asked.</p> +<p>“I’m off to the Spanish Main to take pictures—native +life, ancient ruins, and all that. +There’s a lot of stuff to lug, and—” he hesitated, +“perhaps a fight to step into now and +then! Want to go?”</p> +<p>“<i>Do</i> I?” Johnny grabbed the two largest +bags.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_19">[19]</div> +<p>“There’s no money in it! Just experience and +expenses.”</p> +<p>“All right! What are we waiting for?” Johnny +led the way up the gang-plank.</p> +<p>All that had been two months before and +what wonderful months those had been! Sailing +from island to island, they had taken pictures +of quaint, native homes, of native women +with flashing eyes, of ancient buccaneer cannon, +fast rusting to nothingness. There had +been three exciting fights, with men who had +thought they were intruding. In one of these, +a machete had come within a fraction of an +inch of Johnny’s ear. He seemed to feel the +cool swish of it now.</p> +<p>Then, he thought with a sigh, those golden +days had ended. Lee Martin, the photographer, +had been called back to New York.</p> +<p>“You keep the stuff,” Lee had said to Johnny. +“You may be able to get some unusual +pictures. If you do—send ’em home to me. I’ll +see what I can make out of ’em, for you.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_20">[20]</div> +<p>Johnny had watched Lee’s boat fade into the +distance. Then, with heavy heart, he had +marched back to his lodgings in Port au +Prince, the capital of the Island Republic of +Haiti.</p> +<p>That very day he had noticed the <i>Sea +Nymph</i>, located the man in charge, and signed +up as watch. His photographic equipment was +in his stateroom. He had laid in a good supply +of film packs and plates. Would he find +opportunity to use them? Would he get some +unusual pictures to send to Lee Martin? Time +was to answer all these questions in its own +way....</p> +<p>“It’s a strange layout,” he thought, as he +took a turn about the deck. “I suppose I’ll +know what it’s all about before long.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_21">[21]</div> +<p>It was indeed a strangely equipped craft. A +three-master, with an auxiliary motor for bad +weather, the <i>Sea Nymph</i> had been built for +island trade. Since the bottom had dropped out +of the sugar market, she had been lying idle +in the harbor. Without making many changes, +the elderly professor had equipped her for his +purpose, whatever that might be. Johnny had +not yet been told. There had been a hold at +the boat’s center, for sugar and other freight. +This had been transformed into a tank—or +swimming pool. Johnny could not tell which. +Doris, garbed in a gay swim suit, had taken +a morning plunge there, but he had a notion +it was for some other purpose, also.</p> +<p>Strangest of all, close to the stern where it +could be reached by the stout hoists, was a +large, hollow steel ball. It was all of eight feet +in diameter, and its walls were several inches +thick. What, he had asked himself more than +once, could that be for? But he had asked no +one else. The natives would not know, and one +simply did not ask such questions of an employer. +Besides, Johnny had learned long before, +it is a waste of time to ask questions +which, in good time, will answer themselves....</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_22">[22]</div> +<h2 id="c2"><span class="small">CHAPTER II</span> +<br />SPOOKY WATERS</h2> +<p>Johnny’s questions regarding the steel ball +were answered the following afternoon. +After his usual six hours of sleep, he was sitting +on the deck when the young man they +called Dave—his whole name was Dave Darnell—approached +him.</p> +<p>“I saw you taking pictures yesterday,” Dave +said with a smile.</p> +<p>“Yes,” Johnny answered. “Just a picture of +that island. I hope you didn’t mind.”</p> +<p>“Not at all”, said Dave. “That looked like +a rather good camera.”</p> +<p>“It is!” Johnny exclaimed. “None better. Of +course,” he added, grinning, “it’s not mine. It +was loaned to me. And there’s equipment, +screens for infra-red pictures, flash bulbs, +flood-lights—about everything.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_23">[23]</div> +<p>“Say—ee—” Dave exclaimed. “Looks like +you’re a real find! Want to go down and try +your luck at taking pictures?” He nodded +toward the big steel ball.</p> +<p>“Down?” Johnny asked, a little blankly.</p> +<p>“Yes—to the place of eternal night!”</p> +<p>“E—eternal night!”</p> +<p>“That’s right! I can’t describe it to you! But +I can show you. Question is—can you take +pictures in complete darkness?”</p> +<p>“They don’t come too dark for me!” Johnny +flashed back. “Lee Martin and I took a +picture of a Voodoo witches’ meeting—people +hiding in the dark from the island police. You +couldn’t see your hand. But we got the picture +all right. And I nearly lost an ear! +A burly black fellow swung at me with a +machete!”</p> +<p>“Nothing like that down there,” Dave chuckled. +“All the same—you’ll be surprised! Do you +want to go?”</p> +<p>“Sure—I’ll go,” Johnny agreed. “Only,” he +hesitated, “I have a strange horror of being +completely out of touch with the rest of the +world! What do we do about that?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_24">[24]</div> +<p>“That’s easy!” Dave laughed. “We have a +short-wave set on the boat and another in the +steel ball. Doris or the professor is always listening +in. How about it—do we go?”</p> +<p>“We sure do!” Johnny grinned.</p> +<p>“O.K.! Get your stuff together. We’ll go +down in an hour!”</p> +<p>“Wonder what I’m getting into now?” +Johnny asked himself as he walked to his +stateroom.</p> +<p>An hour later he found himself passing +through one of the strangest experiences of his +life. He was seated, doubled up. Had he wanted +to stand, he could not have done so. His +eyes were wide open, but he saw never a thing!</p> +<p>“Inky black!” he whispered.</p> +<p>“Nowhere else will you see such darkness,” +came Dave’s voice, close at his side.</p> +<p>“But look! There’s something!” Johnny exclaimed +in a low tone.</p> +<p>“Yes!” Dave’s voice rose excitedly. “And it’s +something quite new!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_25">[25]</div> +<p>Johnny stared with all possible intensity. Before +him—how far away he could not tell—there +moved a series of small, round spots of +yellow light. “It’s like flying through the air +at night,” he murmured; “and seeing the lights +of a huge Zeppelin passing.”</p> +<p>“Quick! Get your camera ready!” said Dave.</p> +<p>“All right—it’s all set!” Johnny’s own voice +sounded strange to him.</p> +<p>“I’ll turn on the light,” said Dave. “Now!”</p> +<p>“One, two, three—” Johnny counted to ten, +and closed the camera shutter with a click.</p> +<p>“Now! One more picture,” urged Dave. Another +click. “They’re passing. They’ll soon be +gone. If only it works!” Dave’s voice grew +louder with excitement.</p> +<p>“There”, Johnny sighed. “That’s two pictures—I +hope!”</p> +<p>“No time for another,” said Dave.</p> +<p>Johnny stared once more at the blue-black +darkness before him, and marveled afresh. +Could anything be stranger than this? Queerest +of all—there had not been one ray of visible +light. And Dave’s voice at his side had said, +“I’ll turn on the light!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_26">[26]</div> +<p>But Johnny knew what it was all about. He +had taken pictures in the dark before. Still the +strangeness of it all, baffled him.</p> +<p>As if brought on by the darkness and mystery, +he suddenly thought of something he +must tell Dave.</p> +<p>“Samatan is stirring up trouble with the crew +of the <i>Sea Nymph</i>!” he said.</p> +<p>“Our cook? Samatan?” Dave’s voice registered +surprise. “You must be mistaken.”</p> +<p>“No” said Johnny. “I heard him last night”.</p> +<p>“But why should he? He is well paid.”</p> +<p>“That’s what I don’t know.” There was a +note of perplexity in Johnny’s voice. “It’s what +somebody must find out. What if he should +persuade the men to hoist anchor and sail, <i>right +now</i>?”</p> +<p>“Right now?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“That would be practically fatal! It—</p> +<p>“But look!” Dave’s voice changed. “There +they are again! I never saw such a sight! Get +ready for another picture!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_27">[27]</div> +<p>Johnny quickly took another picture—two—three +more pictures. After that, the spots of +yellow light disappeared as before, and—for +what seemed a very long time—there was +nothing but inky blackness.</p> +<p>Johnny settled back for a few, fleeting +thoughts. That he was due for some unusual +experiences he had never a doubt. Fancy, going +far beneath the surface of the sea in a +thing like this steel ball! Suppose something +went wrong—even the least little thing! +What then? Dave had told him it was possible +to go down half a mile, perhaps more. Would +they ask him to go down that far to take pictures?</p> +<p>Sometimes, he thought, it’s better not to +know too much about what is ahead.</p> +<p>He had been vastly interested in their manner +of taking off in that steel ball. They had +crawled through a small entrance in the side, +and taken their places. Then had come the +bang of a steel door, swung into place. This +was followed by the clang of wrenches, bolting +them inside!</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_28">[28]</div> +<p>Dave had seen him move, restlessly. “Don’t +let that bother you,” he had laughed. “I’ve +been down scores of times. It—it’s just grand! +Professor Casper got the thing up,” Dave +had explained. “Now his doctor won’t let him +go down—on account of a bad heart. So it’s +up to me, on this trip. There are things we +want to know. Your pictures should help.”</p> +<p>There hadn’t been time for any more talk. +After the door had been securely bolted down, +the hoist had lifted them over the rail and +lowered them gently into the inky depths.</p> +<p>With a suddenness that was startling, Johnny +awoke from his revery. Like the flash of +electric bulbs, lights were appearing and disappearing +before his eyes.</p> +<p>“Wha—what is it?” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Shrimp,” was Dave’s matter-of-fact reply. +“Something is after them. The squid shoots +out ink to make himself invisible, but in this +darkness that would do no good. These shrimp +shoot out little balls of fire. Look!” Suddenly +Dave switched on a powerful electric light, and +the little world about them was transformed.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_29">[29]</div> +<p>Seeming to swim in air, a score of tiny, crab-like +creatures moved rapidly across the spot +of light. Viewed through the six-inch-thick window +of fused quartz, they seemed fantastic +indeed.</p> +<p>For a few seconds the space before them was +a dark and empty void. Then again, it filled +with darting creatures. Dave switched off the +light, and once again the shrimp disappeared. +As soon as the more powerful light from their +strange, sub-sea visitor had been turned on, +they had appeared as dark, darting creatures.</p> +<p>“What was following them?” Johnny asked.</p> +<p>“Who knows?” There was a suggestion of +deep mystery in his companion’s tone. “That’s +the thrill and charm that comes from exploring +the sea’s depths! Anything may put in an +appearance. Creatures such as the world never +has dreamed of, may pass before our eyes!”</p> +<p>“How strange! How sort of—”</p> +<p>Johnny broke off to stare, then to exclaim—“There—there’s +something <i>huge</i>!”</p> +<p>“Quick! The camera!” Dave’s voice trembled. +“No—it’s too late!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_30">[30]</div> +<p>Moving with surprising swiftness, some +great, dark bulk passed through the outer edge +of their narrow beam of light.</p> +<p>“Wha—what was it?” Johnny felt a little +giddy.</p> +<p>“Some huge creature of the deep. Perhaps a +whale or a black fish,” Dave replied quietly. +“It is known that they penetrate to these +depths. Then again—perhaps it was some huge, +scaly creature that inhabits these depths +alone.”</p> +<p>“What if it had collided with us, or tangled +in our cable?”</p> +<p>“Then,” Dave’s tone was dry and droll, “we +might have taken a long, swift ride through +space!”</p> +<p>“Swinging like a pendulum?”</p> +<p>“That’s it! On our thousands of feet of +cable.”</p> +<p>“I shouldn’t like that,” Johnny shuddered.</p> +<p>“Then why bring it up?” Dave chuckled.</p> +<p>“Why, indeed!” Johnny laughed—</p> +<p>After another half hour of waiting, for one +more fascinating spectacle, Dave decided to +signal for their return to the top. Johnny experienced +a real sense of relief.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_31">[31]</div> +<p>“To explore the depths of the sea—earth’s +last great frontier—this is our purpose,” Dave +said, as they began to rise. “For centuries men +have been discovering strange creatures washed +up on beaches. They could have come from +nowhere save the ocean depths. For many +years they have been dragging these depths +with nets, to discover, if they could, what lived +in these ‘spooky waters’ of dense darkness.”</p> +<p>And now, Johnny thought exultantly, I am +having a part in an expedition that may reveal +the secrets of these dark depths.</p> +<p>But once again his mind returned to Samatan. +This strange person, with his apparent +hold on the native crew, was cook for the expedition. +And a marvelous cook he was. Johnny +had been interested in the strange old +man, from the first. He had studied him carefully. +And there could be no mistake about it—Samatan +was endeavoring to stir the crew to +something....</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_32">[32]</div> +<p>Now the blue-black world about him appeared +to be changing color. The blackness was +less intense.</p> +<p>“It’s like the coming of dawn,” he said to +Dave.</p> +<p>“Yes,” Dave chuckled, “only here we may +make our own dawn, slow or fast, as we +choose!”</p> +<p>That this was to be rather a fast dawn, +Johnny was not long in discovering. But it was +fascinating. To pass from inky blackness to +dark, deep blue, on into colors that resembled +a sunrise, and then to the eternal blue of a +bright, tropical day, was an experience not soon +to be forgotten. From time to time as they +rose, strange denizens of the sea seemed to +peer at them. Once a shark shot past, and just +before they reached the top, a great turtle +swam awkwardly away.</p> +<p>Came the bump—bump of their steel ball as, +lifted by the great crane, it landed on the +deck. Then, almost before he knew it, Johnny +thrust his head into bracing fresh air, to be +greeted by a smiling face and to hear a girl’s +voice saying:</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_33">[33]</div> +<p>“Hello, Johnny Thompson! How do you like +being down in Davey Jones’ locker?”</p> +<p>After assuring her of his enthusiasm, +Johnny hurried to his stateroom. He was wondering +whether Doris remembered their “secret” +of the night before.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_34">[34]</div> +<h2 id="c3"><span class="small">CHAPTER III</span> +<br />A BRIGHT EYED BEACH-COMBER</h2> +<p>Johnny went at once to a darkroom that had +been quickly prepared in the hold. Pictures +could be taken on land in what appeared to +be complete darkness; he knew this from his +work with Lee Martin. But would the utter +blackness beneath the sea be the same? He +would know, soon.</p> +<p>He watched the films with absorbed interest. +As the developer took hold, he saw nothing +but blackness.</p> +<p>“Nothing there!” he muttered disappointedly. +“Wasted shots. We—”</p> +<p>But wait! Was something coming out? Yes! +There it was! An indistinct, shadowy form!</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_35">[35]</div> +<p>His thoughts leaped ahead. His pictures were +to be a success. He would be asked, times +without number, to go down in that darkness +and take more pictures. Dangerous work, but +he had to be a good sport, and besides, it was +splendid experience for him.</p> +<p>The strange, undersea creatures, some very +large, with heads as long as their bodies, with +fantastic buck teeth and hideous eyes, some +small and snakelike and some as normal looking +as any fish to be found near the surface, +came out clearly visible on the film.</p> +<p>“Perfect!” was the professor’s enthusiastic +reaction when Johnny showed him damp prints +a few hours later. “A real contribution! And +you took them in complete darkness!”</p> +<p>“In what appeared to be complete darkness,” +Johnny corrected. “I did it with an infra-red +light screen. That screen shuts out all +but the infra-red rays. Eyes can’t see the +light of these rays.</p> +<p>“Of course,” he went on, “we might have +used a flood light, but that would have frightened +those creatures away. As it is, we got +them in what you might call a natural pose. +Candid camera shots from the deep sea,” he +laughed.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_36">[36]</div> +<p>“Yes, yes,” the professor agreed. “Very remarkable +and most useful!”</p> +<p>“Of course,” said Johnny, with a touch of +modesty. “I learned all this from Lee Martin. +He took me on as a helper and sort of body-guard. +I just absorbed this camera stuff as +we went along.”</p> +<p>“I see,” said the professor, “that you have +learned one of the real secrets of success.”</p> +<p>“What’s that?” Johnny asked.</p> +<p>“To learn all you can about everything that +comes your way, and to file that knowledge +away in your brain. One never can tell when +the opportunity to use such information may +come to him. Perhaps never, but it’s always +there!</p> +<p>“You should be a great aid to us,” the professor +added thoughtfully. “You see,” he said, +leaning forward in his chair, “I regard this +work as the most interesting and exciting of +my entire career. Young man,”—his eyes fairly +shone, “what place do you think of as our +last frontier?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_37">[37]</div> +<p>Then, before Johnny could reply—“You may +go east, west, north, south” the professor continued +“but you find no frontier. You must +go up or down! Up into the stratosphere—or +down, into the sea. These are our last frontiers. +Dave and I have chosen the deep sea, +because there we may yet discover forms of +life not known to man. These pictures,” he +held them up, “show two types of fish never +before seen—and we have but begun!”</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>“We have but begun,” Johnny repeated softly +to himself as, some hours later, he once more +paced the deck in his solitary vigil. “We have +begun. Where shall we end? We—”</p> +<p>His soliloquy was interrupted. Had he caught +a gleam out there on the water? He thought +so. Now it was gone.</p> +<p>That was one thing he was to watch for—natives +in dugouts and canoes. Who could tell +what they might do? In a strange land one +did well to keep close watch. He would keep +an eye out for that light....</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_38">[38]</div> +<p>“Exploring our last frontier,” he whispered +softly. He was in for something truly big +again. Big, exciting, and dangerous! Well, that +was the life. Life, action, thrills—and a touch +of romance! Boy-oh-boy! That was the stuff!</p> +<p>But there <i>was</i> a gleam of light on the water! +There could be no mistaking it. It was closer, +too. What should he do? Call someone? After +a moment’s thought he decided to wait. His +flashlight would reach out a hundred feet or +more. Time enough when those people, whoever +they were, came within reach of his light. So, +somewhat excited, Johnny waited by the gunwale, +watching the bobbing of a tiny light—now +here—now there—now gone—but ever coming +nearer.</p> +<p>He waited, breathless, tense, expectant, +watching for some craft. What would he see? +Dark faces? Gleaming spears? Flashing +machetes? Soon he would know.</p> +<p>When at last he cast the gleam of his powerful +light on the spot where that golden glow +had last shown, he gasped in astonishment.</p> +<p>“A girl!” he exclaimed, amazedly.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_39">[39]</div> +<p>Yes, it was a girl. In a dugout patterned +after a white man’s canoe, she came straight +on, without a sound. Her boy’s shirt and blue +slacks were faded, but clean. Her reddish-golden +hair fairly gleamed in the light. She +had a round, freckled face and smiling eyes.</p> +<p>As she came alongside, Johnny reached over, +took her line and made it fast. Then he +gripped her small, firm hand and helped her +over the low rail.</p> +<p>“I—I had to come,” she breathed. “I—I’ve +been watching you for days. What—” there +was tense eagerness in her voice, “what is that +big ball you let down into the sea?”</p> +<p>“That,” said Johnny, after bringing her a deck +chair, “is for going down, down, down, to the +bottom of the sea!”</p> +<p>“I—I hoped it would be.”</p> +<p>“Why”</p> +<p>“Our trading schooner, the <i>Swallow</i>, sank. +We—we can’t find it. I thought—”</p> +<p>“Thought these people might find it for +you?”</p> +<p>“Yes! Yes—that’s it! Do you suppose—”</p> +<p>“I can’t tell about that. You see,” Johnny +hesitated, “I’m only a watch, on this boat. I—well +you might say I’m just a tropical tramp!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_40">[40]</div> +<p>“That,” said the girl, putting out her hand, +“makes us kin! Grandfather and I are beach-combers!</p> +<p>“You see,” she went on, after giving Johnny’s +hand a quick grip, “I sort of ran away +from home. No, not quite that. I was half +through college. It cost an awful lot. My folks +couldn’t afford it, but they wanted me to finish +anyway. I wouldn’t let them spend the +money, so I asked grandfather to send me a +steamship ticket. He did—and here I am! It’s +grand! Really gorgeous! These nights.” She +spread her arms wide. “The jungle! The water +rushing along the shore, the birds, the flowers, +romance, adventure, everything! It’s just +grand!” Her face fairly shone.</p> +<p>“But our boat,” her voice dropped, “sprang +a leak in a storm. The natives were sailing +her. They lost the location and we can’t find +it. Perhaps—”</p> +<p>“You’d have to see Dave,” said Johnny.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_41">[41]</div> +<p>“He’s the young man who goes down in the +steel ball? I—I’ve been watching you through +the glass.”</p> +<p>“Yes, that’s Dave. He takes his work of exploring +the sea’s depths very serenely! Tell you +what!” Johnny exclaimed. “You get him to +take you down!”</p> +<p>“In—in that thing?” The girl drew in her +breath sharply, eyeing the distant shadow of +the huge sphere.</p> +<p>“Sure, in the steel ball! He’d like to! He’s +proud of it. And he likes showing people +strange things. If you want someone to do a +certain thing for you—ask him to do something +else, first! That’s a grand rule.” Johnny looked +into the girl’s frank, grey eyes, and decided +he liked her.</p> +<p>“Yes—I—I suppose so,” the girl replied, slowly. +“But you know—well, anyway—it’s worth +thinking about!”</p> +<p>“Look!” said Johnny, starting up. “Perhaps +you can tell me what <i>that</i> is.” He pointed to +the distant island, where again the blinking +green arrow could be seen.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_42">[42]</div> +<p>“No, I—” The girl sat there, staring. “I +never saw that before. But you know,” her +voice dropped to a whisper, “there are spies +on these islands! Lots of spies!”</p> +<p>“Spies?” Johnny’s voice expressed astonishment.</p> +<p>“European spies,” she added.</p> +<p>“But why?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know about it. Grandfather can +tell you all there is to know. He’s always talking +spies, and saying what they’ll do when the +time comes.... You must come over and see +us. Our place is just over there on the shore. +You’ll come, won’t you?”</p> +<p>“Yes. Certainly I’ll come.”</p> +<p>“Thanks a lot.” Once more she gripped his +hand. “And now—goodnight. I—I’m glad I +came.” She was over the side and away.</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll <i>be</i>!” said Johnny as he settled back +in his chair. A moment later, faint, and far +away, he heard her voice come over the dark +water:</p> +<p>“My name is Mildred Kennedy. Be sure to +come see us—don’t forget!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_43">[43]</div> +<p>For answer Johnny whistled once, cupping +his lips with his hands, to reduce the likelihood +of arousing anyone on board. After that he +was left to silence and the night—and the mysterious +arrow of green light, blinking away on +the distant hillside.</p> +<p>Sliding out the field glass, he studied that +arrow for two full minutes. He felt sure from +its strange blinking and winking that it was +being used as a code signal. For the life of +him, however, he could not make the lights +separate themselves. They always remained a +blur.</p> +<p>“Too far away,” he grumbled. He wanted +to hoist anchor and let the boat drift closer +to shore, but this, he knew, would not do. He +was neither skipper nor mate.</p> +<p>Suddenly recalling Doris’ words of the previous +night, he realized that he had made the +light, the secret of the bright-eyed little +Mildred Kennedy! “I won’t tell Doris about +that!” he decided. “At least, not yet.”</p> +<p>He was seized with a sudden desire to know +who was receiving those blinking signals of the +green arrow. Deep in thought, he turned his +back to the island and, to his utter astonishment, +saw above the motionless sea some distance +away, a second blinking green arrow!</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_44">[44]</div> +<p>“Ah!” he breathed, lifting the glass to his +eyes. Digging into a pocket, he dragged out +a pencil and a small notebook. After that, for +fully ten minutes, he held the glass with his +left hand while setting down numbers. 5 - 7 - 11 - 9, +13 - 6 - 3, 4 - 9 - 2 - 7. He wrote down +figures and more figures, until a strange, rushing +sound reached his ears.</p> +<p>Startled, he sprang to his feet. On the shore +side he saw a broad band of white foam rapidly +approaching the boat. Standing there, +mouth open and staring, he watched it sweep +toward him. With a hissing roar it swept beneath +the boat and, without causing the least +movement of the craft, went rushing on.</p> +<p>“False alarm,” he murmured. “Probably +what they call a rip-tide.”</p> +<p>Turning back to sea, he looked again for +the blinking green arrow. But it was gone. The +distant island hill, too, now was entirely dark.</p> +<p>“Strange,” he muttered, as again he paced +the deck.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_45">[45]</div> +<p>And indeed it was strange, for the ship’s log +had recorded no boat in sight at sundown!</p> +<p>From then, until Johnny’s vigil ended with +the dawn, there was nothing to disturb the +calm stillness of the tropic night.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_46">[46]</div> +<h2 id="c4"><span class="small">CHAPTER IV</span> +<br />SPIES</h2> +<p>On board the <i>Sea Nymph</i> was a small +boat known as the Tub. Very short and +broad, it rowed like a washtub, and in +a storm, would have been about as safe as a +laundry basket. But water held no terrors for +Johnny, so, late the following afternoon, he +pushed the Tub into the sea and headed for +shore.</p> +<p>“You came! How grand!” Mildred Kennedy +came racing down a palm-lined path to greet +him.</p> +<p>She wore an orange-colored smock, and there +was flour on the hand she held out in greeting.</p> +<p>“I’m making cookies,” she confided.</p> +<p>“Sounds great!” Johnny grinned.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_47">[47]</div> +<p>She led him to a broad, screened porch where +a bearded giant unwound himself from a deep, +comfortable chair to meet him.</p> +<p>“This is grandfather.” Real pride shone in +the girl’s eyes. “He’s been a beach-comber for +thirty years. That’s a record!”</p> +<p>“Now, child,” the old man drawled, “don’t +you go bragging on me.</p> +<p>“Have a chair,” he directed Johnny.</p> +<p>“My cookies will burn. I’ll have to hurry,” +said the girl. “Grandfather—you tell him about +those spies.”</p> +<p>“Spies? Oh, yes. Those European fellows.” +The old man’s face darkened. “I’ve been +preaching against ’em for mighty nigh twenty +years. Mebbe longer than that, I reckon. You +see, Mr. Thompson—”</p> +<p>“Please call me Johnny,” said the boy. “I’m +not used to the ‘Mister’.”</p> +<p>“All right, Johnny. That’s what it shall be. +You see, Johnny, these islands were once a +French colony. The French made slaves of the +natives. They brought in a lot more slaves and +before long, there were many more slaves than +there were Frenchmen. So the natives polished +up their machetes, started poundin’ their Voodoo +drums, and drove the Frenchmen off the +islands. This has been a republic ever since.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_48">[48]</div> +<p>“But spies, now,” his voice dropped. “How’d +you get to thinkin’ o’ spies?”</p> +<p>“Your granddaughter told me there were +spies. And there’s been a green arrow—an +arrow of light—on the hill at night, and another +on the water. It’s sort of mysterious.”</p> +<p>“A green arrow of light,” the old man repeated. +“That’s what Mildred was telling me. +Strange that I never saw it.”</p> +<p>“You couldn’t,” said Johnny, “unless you +were on the water. It’s near the middle of the +island, and up high.”</p> +<p>“There’s a place up there built of stone, half +castle—half prison,” Kennedy said, thoughtfully. +“Some Frenchman built it, thinking he +could hold out against the natives. Well, he +couldn’t, and now the natives think it’s haunted. +Won’t go near it. It’s a long way up a +terrible trail.</p> +<p>“But those spies, now,” he added thoughtfully. +“They may be using it for a hideout and +signal tower. They stop at nothing.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_49">[49]</div> +<p>The old man rose, circled the porch like a +prowling tiger, then returned to his seat.</p> +<p>“These natives,” he went on, “are a simple +people. They can’t run a country. They found +it out soon enough. So did these other people, +these Europeans. I won’t name the country as +you’ll learn it soon enough. Those Europeans +came here and began boring in, just as they do +everywhere. You’ll find them in every South +American republic and every island of the sea. +They’re robbers, spies, traitors!” His voice +rose. “They rob the people, and at the same +time plot the overthrow of all governments but +their own.</p> +<p>“Young man!” Mr. Kennedy left his chair +with surprising vigor. “Did you ever take a +good look at the map, and think how important +this Caribbean Sea is?”</p> +<p>“No, I—”</p> +<p>“Come here. Have a look!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_50">[50]</div> +<p>They stood before a large wall map. “Look +at it,” Kennedy insisted. “Plentiful islands +with Central America on the west. A score of +wonderful harbors. Suppose those people took +possession of these islands. Look at Haiti! A +harbor where an entire navy might drop +anchor! Yes—and room left for ten thousand +seaplanes! Bombers! How would our Atlantic +coast—Miami, Charleston, New York, Boston—how +would they look, after those planes had +been raiding from this base for a week, if there +were war. And who says there <i>won’t</i> be!</p> +<p>“You saw a light on the water!” He whirled +around.</p> +<p>“Yes! Low down! A green arrow of lights, +that flashed.”</p> +<p>“‘Low down’!—I should say they were!” The +old man grimaced. “Spies!” he muttered. +“Since our Marines left the islands—we took +control during the World War, you know—these +islands have been nests of spies! Something +should be done about it. But these natives +sleep on—and Uncle Sam doesn’t care to +interfere. And yet I’m beginning to hope he +will—before it is too late!” His words trailed +off as he resumed his seat.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_51">[51]</div> +<p>“These people may call themselves beach-combers,” +Johnny thought to himself. “Perhaps +they are, in a way! But they’re grand folks.”</p> +<p>The house, which he presumed had been built +with native labor, was made of massive, hardwood +logs. There was no glass in the broad +windows, but bamboo “screens,” which could +be let down at night. Mosquito-net canopies +were hung over the beds to keep out insects. +Most tropical houses are like that.</p> +<p>Behind the house were orchards—grapefruit, +oranges, bananas. And down in the flat land +by the shore, sugar cane was growing.</p> +<p>“We cut it out of the wilderness, the natives +and I,” the old man rumbled, in response to +Johnny’s polite inquiry. “They’re quite wonderful, +these natives—once you come to understand +them.</p> +<p>“Of course,” his brow darkened, “some of +them can’t be trusted. Those men, those Europeans—” +his tone was bitter, “have corrupted +them. Yes, and robbed them, too! They pay +little for their produce, wild rubber, chicle, wild +coffee. And they charge the natives high prices +for cheap goods. They get the people deeply +in debt to them, and then make slaves of them.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_52">[52]</div> +<p>“That,” he sighed, “was why we bought a +trading schooner, Mildred and I. We wanted +to give the people of our small island a chance. +We were doing it, too!” He struck the table a +blow with his massive fist. “By George! We +were doing it!</p> +<p>“But our boat’s on the bottom now!” His +voice fell. “Our natives took her out in a +storm, and she sprang a leak.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I know. Mildred told me.” Johnny was +wondering whether some treacherous native, +inspired by the Europeans, had let the water +into the Kennedy boat. At the same time he +was making a resolve to do all he could to +find the boat and help bring it to the surface.</p> +<p>Mildred entered with a great plate of cookies +and a pitcher of ice-cold, fruit juice.</p> +<p>“I hope you like them,” she smiled.</p> +<p>Johnny did like them. What was more, as +the moments passed he became more and more +interested in his new-found friends. They were, +he told himself, good, kind, intelligent people—his +kind. They would do things, together. He +saw himself with the girl, following obscure +trails in search of that spy castle whence, perhaps, +the green arrow messages came.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_53">[53]</div> +<p>“Well,” he sighed at last, “I’ll have to be +getting back. It’s been grand, this visit. I hope +you’ll let me come back, and that—that we +can do things together.” He was looking at +the girl.</p> +<p>“Do things? What, for instance?” Her face +was serious.</p> +<p>“Lots of things. Things that may help.” He +gave her a broad smile. Then—“just a big +batch of day-dreams, I guess.”</p> +<p>At that he shook hands with the old man, +walked down the broad path with the girl, +gripped her hand for an instant, then climbed +into his Tub and rowed away.</p> +<p>“Thanks for one grand time,” he called back.</p> +<p>“You’re welcome, and thanks for coming,” +was Mildred’s answer. And the hills echoed +back, “thanks—thanks.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_54">[54]</div> +<h2 id="c5"><span class="small">CHAPTER V</span> +<br />WHISPERING DEPTHS</h2> +<p>Johnny had an active mind. Figuring and +planning were almost continuous activities +with him. Sometimes he really tried to slow +the process up, but his mind would keep right +on, figuring and planning.</p> +<p>As he rowed slowly back to the boat, his +thoughts were particularly active. There were +things to be done. He would see that they <i>were</i> +done, in the end; he surely would. By going +down in the steel ball as many times as Dave +wanted him to, and by taking pictures, he’d +put Dave in debt to him. Then he’d persuade +Mildred to go down in the steel ball. Dave +would like that. Then, at just the right time, +he and Mildred would ask Dave to help find +that trading boat at the bottom of the sea, +and to float it once more.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_55">[55]</div> +<p>Then they would get busy on those spies, he +and Mildred and—and anyone else who would +help. It was a patriotic duty, by thunder! It +surely was! In his mind’s eye he saw the map +of the Caribbean Sea, these islands at one side, +the Panama Canal on the other. If the Europeans +got these islands, what would happen to +the canal? Filled with rocks and mud—that was +the answer! They’d bomb the very daylights +out of it. Yes, they must uncover those spies—at +least some of them. He wondered whether +the green arrow would show tonight, and +whether he would be able to make any sense +out of the numbers he had written down in +his notebook.</p> +<p>“It’s some sort of code,” he told himself repeatedly. +“If I can decipher it we may get +somewhere.”</p> +<p>But here he was alongside the <i>Sea Nymph</i>, +and Dave was saying:</p> +<p>“Hello, Johnny. We’re shifting our position +tonight—coming in a little closer. Tomorrow +afternoon I’d like you to go down with me to +get some pictures. You won’t mind, will you?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_56">[56]</div> +<p>That was exactly what Johnny had planned. +“No, I won’t mind,” he said, “that will +be keen.”</p> +<p>A mist drifted out over the ocean. All that +night Johnny paced the deck in a chill fog. +No green light showed from the island hills. +Once he thought he heard men’s voices, but +nothing came of it. He was glad enough when +he could crawl into his berth, draw his blankets +over him, and lose himself in sleep.</p> +<p>When he awoke the sun was shining. It was +mid-afternoon, and Dave was waiting for him +to appear, for their trip below.</p> +<p>“What a life!” he murmured. After he had +gulped some hot coffee, hurriedly bolted some +seabiscuits and a piece of pie he reappeared +on deck.</p> +<p>“All ready?” Dave asked.</p> +<p>“Soon as I get my camera and things.”</p> +<p>“Good! I’ll have the steel ball in shape +P.D.Q.,” Dave grinned, good-naturedly.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_57">[57]</div> +<p>“He’s really a nice chap,” Johnny thought. +“Only he takes science and discovery pretty +seriously. I suppose we’ll discover some saber-toothed +viper fish, or maybe some flying +snails!” He smiled at his thoughts. Life was +not half bad after all.</p> +<p>Half an hour later he was experiencing such +thrills as only the deep, deep sea could bring. +Some five hundred feet beneath the surface of +the sea he sat doubled up in his place, staring +at an ever changing panorama. A rocky wall, +not twenty feet from him, stood up like a sky-scraper, +straight and tall. Here and there it was +broken by fissures and caves. Everywhere it +was festooned with sea vegetation—seaweed, +kelp, anemones. All these, with coral that rose +like Gothic architecture, were entrancing.</p> +<p>Dave was by his side—not to admire, but to +record. The look on his face was almost +solemn. As they moved slowly downward Dave +spoke into a small microphone and Doris, up +on deck, recorded his words. Strange words +they were, too: “A school of parrot fish; three +hatchet fish; two round-mouths; a golden-tailed +serpent dragon; a—oh—oh!—Hold everything!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_58">[58]</div> +<p>At that instant Dave’s window was opposite +a dark cavern. As he threw on a more +powerful light he caught the gleam of two, +great eyes. How far apart they were!</p> +<p>Despite his efforts to remain calm, Johnny’s +heart skipped a beat as, at Dave’s command, +he touched his moving-picture camera and set +it recording. What sort of creature was this? +A whale? A blackfish? Or some strange, unknown +denizen of the deep? Suppose at this +instant it should become enraged, should rush +out of its hiding place and drag the steel ball +out into the deep—to send it crashing against +the rocky wall? A broken window would mean +instant death. And yet Johnny’s hand did not +tremble as he adjusted his camera....</p> +<p>Just after the steel ball had gone over the +side, Mildred Kennedy, in her dugout canoe, +had arrived for a visit. It had called for real +courage, this little journey. From a distance +these <i>Sea Nymph</i> people had seemed so serious. +All but Johnny. “But it’s not decent to stay +away and not be properly sociable,” she had +told her grandfather. So here she was.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_59">[59]</div> +<p>There had been time only for a brief word +of welcome from Doris. After that, whispering +excitedly—“Dave and Johnny are below in the +steel ball. It—it’s dreadfully thrilling, even here +on deck,” Doris had clamped a pair of head-phones +over her guest’s ears and had whispered +tensely:</p> +<p>“Listen!”</p> +<p>So they were seated on the deck of the <i>Sea +Nymph</i>, listening intently for reports from below. +At the same time, they talked.</p> +<p>“I came to visit my grandfather,” Mildred +said, “just as sort of a lark. I was storm bound +indoors for two weeks, and when I saw how +simple and kind the natives were, the happy, +free life they lived, and yet how many things +could be done for them, I wanted to stay. So +I just did. And I am glad. Only—” A shadow +passed over her face.</p> +<p>“Listen!” Doris held up a finger. “Thought +I heard a whisper. It—it couldn’t be Dave! I—I +hope nothing has gone wrong. It’s truly +dangerous being down there, and yet one does +learn so much—”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_60">[60]</div> +<p>“Shish!” Mildred held up a finger. “I—listen—I +hear a whisper! It—it’s numbers he’s +saying. How strange!”</p> +<p>As the two girls sat in silence, pressing the +phones to their ears, listening with their every +sense, they caught—in a low whisper:</p> +<p>“Two hundred—and—eight—and a half. Ten. +No—now a drop—thirty, thirty-one—two—three—”</p> +<p>Then Dave’s voice boomed through, drowning +out the whisper. “O.K. We saw some sort +of monster,” he was saying. “He was in one +of these caverns and Johnny got his picture—we +hope! Wish you were down here.”</p> +<p>“So do we!” Doris’ voice exclaimed. “We +heard a whisper. Thought you might—”</p> +<p>“You’ve been dreaming!” Dave boomed back. +“Forget it—and tell that man at the cable to +let us down again, slowly. Boy!—how I do want +to see things!”</p> +<p>Yes, Dave wanted to see things. Most of all, +on this particular day he wished to go down—down—down +into the watery depths, to discover, +if possible, just how far down, sea vegetation +and coral were to be found.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_61">[61]</div> +<p>“If only I don’t find bottom too soon,” he +thought. “And if the sea remains calm.”</p> +<p>The sea. He shuddered a little at this. If +the anchors held—all would be well. But if +they should give way—that would be truly terrible. +To the right and left of them, not a +quarter-mile apart, were parallel walls of rock. +To be dragged against one of these—? Who +could tell what disaster might result!</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>In the meantime, as they listened, the two +girls talked of many things, of home, of +thrilling tropical nights, of Mildred’s sunken +schooner and many other things.</p> +<p>Of a sudden, their conversation was interrupted +by a sound, conveyed through their +head-phones.</p> +<p>“Sh—“—Doris’ hand went up. “It’s that +strange whisper again!”</p> +<p>“Whispering waters!” Mildred murmured. +“How mysterious!”</p> +<p>Low as her tone was, the whisperer apparently +caught it, for—still in that hoarse +whisper—there came back:</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_62">[62]</div> +<p>“So we are mysterious! How very grand! +And it was a lady who spoke!”</p> +<p>Once again Dave’s voice broke in upon the +whisperer: “Doris!” Tenseness was evident in +his tone. “Doris!—Tell them to hold us right +where we are!”</p> +<p>“<i>Hold it!</i>” Doris called to the windlass man, +instantly.</p> +<p>“<i>Hold it</i>,” came back the quick acknowledgment.</p> +<p>“All this,” Doris said to Mildred, “is most +provoking. You are just dying to know what +strange things are happening below, what marvelous +discoveries are being made—but the +only part you have in it is listening and +waiting!”</p> +<p>Down in the steel ball, Dave had caught a +movement to the right, away from the cliff. +Switching his light in that direction he had +discovered a huge, dark object moving slowly +through the water.</p> +<p>“It’s that ‘thing’!” he told himself. “The very +thing I’ve seen before!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_63">[63]</div> +<p>To his great disappointment, the form was +as indistinct as before. That it might be a +whale he knew quite well. He suggested the +idea to Johnny.</p> +<p>“But it’s not a whale—I’m sure of it!” Johnny +whispered. Swinging his moving-picture +camera into range, he managed to catch the +rear half of it before it passed from view.</p> +<p>“The camera sees more than the eye,” he +murmured. “Here’s hoping.”</p> +<p>Dave turned again to his task of exploring +the under-sea wall. He signalled their continued +descent.</p> +<p>A moment later the ear-phones on deck were +silent. Both Dave and the mysterious whisperer +were unheard.</p> +<p>“Who <i>could</i> that have been?” Mildred asked.</p> +<p>“I’ve no idea,” was Doris’ reply.</p> +<p>“Do you know,” Mildred added dreamily, “I +have a feeling that whisperer was not far away!”</p> +<p>Doris started to speak but checked herself, +suddenly. Once again she had caught the weird +tones of the whisperer.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_64">[64]</div> +<p>“One-eighty—eighty-two—eighty-six,” he +droned. Then he raised his voice above the +whisper, and called:</p> +<p>“Hello there—you mermaids! Are you still +there?”</p> +<p>“He <i>must</i> be near us!” Doris exclaimed. “If +not—why would he call us ‘mermaids’?”</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>At that same instant Dave was experiencing +a thrill. Arrived at a spot opposite a broad +shelf on the perpendicular wall, he and Johnny +found themselves within five feet of the rock. +Vegetation, which had been thinning out, was +just disappearing.</p> +<p>And then Dave saw it—a long, wavering arm, +reaching out for the steel ball. Involuntarily, +he started back from the window. Then he +laughed.</p> +<p>A second arm appeared. Then, a third.</p> +<p>“Octopus!” he whispered to Johnny. “Such +a monster!” Instantly his light was on, and +Johnny’s movie camera was grinding away.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_65">[65]</div> +<p>“Only one of his kind I’ve ever seen!” Dave +was thrilled to the tips of his toes. “Wish he’d +climb on board and let us take him up. He +won’t do that, but I’ll get him, all the same! +Some time I’ll get him!</p> +<p>“How ugly he is! See how his eyes shine, +Johnny! People sure would throng around him +in an aquarium! Put him in with some gorgeous, +tropical fish and you’d have a ‘beauty +and the beast’ show! You—”</p> +<p>Suddenly he stopped speaking, to stare +straight at the wall. They were moving away! +There could be no doubt of it. Fascinated by +the strangeness of the situation, he and Johnny +sat motionless while the octopus faded from +sight. Two yards—three—five—ten—twenty—they +were swinging off! And behind him was +a second wall, against which the window of +the steel ball might crack like an egg shell.</p> +<p>At that instant Dave heard a strange voice +repeating an idiotic question:</p> +<p>“<i>Hello there, you mermaids. Are you still there?</i>”</p> +<p>The very sound of a human voice seemed +to rouse him.</p> +<p>“Doris!” he called. “The anchors have pulled +loose! The ship is drifting!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_66">[66]</div> +<p>“<i>Hello, there</i>,” called that same voice. “<i>So +you’re not a mermaid, after all!</i>”</p> +<p>Something had gone wrong with Dave’s +radio, Doris thought. His voice did not come +through clearly.</p> +<p>“Hello! Hello Dave!” Doris called. “Repeat! +What did you say?”</p> +<p>“<i>I said are you a mermaid?</i>” came in that teasing +voice.</p> +<p>“Get off the air!” Doris stormed.</p> +<p>“Doris!” Dave roared. His voice came +through clearly now. “The ship’s adrift! Tell +the captain to order our main anchor line +played out—to pull hard to port!”</p> +<p>“Anchor line out! Hard to port!” the girl +cried.</p> +<p>“Anchor line out. Hard to port!” came booming +back the repetition.</p> +<p>Instantly Doris found her head in a whirl. +Dave and Johnny were down a full thousand +feet. On each side of their ball a rock wall +rose high above them. To crash against it +might mean disaster.</p> +<p>“Haul away—Top speed!” came in Dave’s +usual calm voice.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_67">[67]</div> +<p>“Haul away. Top speed!” Doris called to the +control man.</p> +<p>Complete silence followed. Even the “whisperer” +appeared to have sensed the tenseness +of the situation and had gone off the air.</p> +<p>That there was to be a race against time +with their lives as a grand prize, Johnny realized +at once. Here they were, several hundred +feet down in the black depths of the sea, drifting +at a fairly rapid rate toward a rocky wall. +If they hit that wall? He shuddered at the +thought. The pressure of water at that depth +was tremendous. If the ball cracked, nothing +could save them.</p> +<p>“Is there anything at all we can do?” he +asked Dave.</p> +<p>“Not a thing, I guess,” Dave answered. Then, +“Yes! Yes, there might be, at that! There are +the levers! They are <i>outside</i> the ball and can +be worked from <i>within</i>! I had them fixed up +for gathering outside samples. If we lifted +them into position, they’d lessen the shock if +we hit the wall!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_68">[68]</div> +<p>No sooner said than done! Groping about, +Johnny seized a handle here, another there, as +Dave was doing. He felt much better when +the outside levers were in position. They would +provide a little protection, at least.</p> +<p>With astonishing speed, now, the wall approached. +They could see every detail of the +seagrowth clinging there. “Ten yards,” Johnny +guessed. “Eight—five—three—” He was sitting +on the inner handle of the lever and gripping +the other hard. “Now—now comes the test!” +he breathed.</p> +<p>The words were hardly out of his mouth +when there came a grinding impact that all +but lifted him from his place. And then—they +were free of the ledge!</p> +<p>“Free!” Dave cried joyously. “Doris! We are +safe!” he called into his speaker.</p> +<p>The ball rose slowly above the top of the +ledge.</p> +<p>Dave, however, had spoken too soon. Scarcely +had he settled back when a great spiral of +coral, like the towers of a church, appeared to +leap at them. This, he knew, grew from the +top of the ledge.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_69">[69]</div> +<p>There was just time for a lightning decision, +but they were prepared for it.</p> +<p>“This lever is closest,” Dave exclaimed. “It’s +our window or the lever!”</p> +<p>Throwing their whole weight on the lever +handle, they waited a second—two—three—ten—twenty. +Johnny heard his watch ticking +them off....</p> +<p>Then came the heavy jolt. He was thrown +so violently that his head struck the top, and +his senses reeled.</p> +<p>When at last he was able to sit up and look +out, he murmured a fervent “Thank God.” For +the hazard was past. The glorious blue of +water was all about them.</p> +<p>Fifteen minutes later the steel ball rested on +the <i>Sea Nymph’s</i> deck. A few more moments +and, hands first, like frogs leaping from a jar, +the two tumbled out on the deck.</p> +<p>“Hel—hello, folks!” Dave said, standing up +a trifle unsteadily. “How’s the weather up +here?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_70">[70]</div> +<p>“That,” said Doris, gripping Dave’s arm +without realizing it and giving Johnny a happy +smile, “that was awful!”</p> +<p>Mildred, gazing at them admiringly, echoed +the thought.</p> +<p>“How about a glass of lemonade, and—and +something to go with it?” Dave demanded. +“Chocolate coated marshmallow cake, macaroons, +and—”</p> +<p>“Dave, you’ll get fat,” Doris laughed.</p> +<p>“And then I wouldn’t be able to get into +the steel ball. Wouldn’t that be grand?</p> +<p>“But no!” Dave answered his own question. +“It wouldn’t! Not at all. For I’ve been seeing +things—wonderful things! And I’m going back +tomorrow!”</p> +<p>After their little feast on deck, Doris accompanied +Mildred to the boat’s side, gave her a +hand as she dropped lightly into her dugout, +and said in a friendly tone:</p> +<p>“You’ll come again, won’t you—very soon?”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes!” Mildred exclaimed. “I’ll fairly +haunt you from now on, for we do get a little +lonely—grandfather and I. But you must all +come over and see us too! Won’t you?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_71">[71]</div> +<p>“Oh, yes, very soon,” Doris answered, +cordially.</p> +<p>“Day after tomorrow is Sunday—how about +then?”</p> +<p>“I’ll let you know. It’s up to Dave, really. +He’s so absorbed he almost forgets to eat. You +see,” Doris went on, “he’s very fond of my +grandfather, and wants to help all he can.”</p> +<p>“These grandfathers of ours!” Mildred +laughed.</p> +<p>Half an hour later Johnny came upon Doris, +standing before an easel and putting the last +touches on a picture of the sea, the island, and +a gorgeous sunset.</p> +<p>“I didn’t know you were an artist,” he said +in genuine surprise.</p> +<p>“I’m not,” Doris frowned. “I only make a +try at it. Those colors! You never can get them +just right!”</p> +<p>“Looks swell!” Johnny said, admiringly. +“Wish I could do half so well. Why don’t you +try an <i>underseascape</i>?”</p> +<p>“What would that be?” Doris wrinkled her +brow.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_72">[72]</div> +<p>“You go to the bottom of the sea, fifty feet +or so down, in a diving helmet. You set your +easel on the bottom, weight it down, and +paint—whatever you see there!”</p> +<p>“Not really?”</p> +<p>“I read about it in a book. Found it in the +ship’s library. Anyway—it would be fun +trying.”</p> +<p>“Water would spoil your paint.”</p> +<p>“It says not,” Johnny grinned. “Only trouble +is—little fish, like flies, get into your paint!”</p> +<p>“I’ll try it some time,” Doris declared. “I’ve +been down twice with Dave. It’s thrilling—walking +on the bottom of the sea. Thanks for +the idea, Johnny!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_73">[73]</div> +<h2 id="c6"><span class="small">CHAPTER VI</span> +<br />REAL PROGRESS!</h2> +<p>After going on duty that night, Johnny +came upon Samatan, leader of the boat’s +native crew. He was seated in a corner, but +one of the ship’s lamps lighted his face. He +was staring at the steel ball and there was unmistakable +animosity in his expression.</p> +<p>“Looks as if he’d like to eat it,” Johnny +mused. “Wonder what it’s all about.”</p> +<p>A little later he heard the natives talking in +their quarters below deck.</p> +<p>“Sounds as if they were angry about something,” +he told himself. More than once he +heard Samatan’s voice rising above the rest, +as if he were making some sort of speech. He +wondered if it could be possible that the +European spies had somehow inspired these +natives with hate for <i>all</i> Americans.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_74">[74]</div> +<p>“That would be bad,” he thought. “It might +spell disaster.” He resolved to cultivate +Samatan’s acquaintance to find out, if possible, +just what his grievance was. Then he +might put things to rights.</p> +<p>Maybe some superstition is connected with +the steel ball, Johnny reflected. When you are +among primitive people you never know quite +what to expect.</p> +<p>That night the green arrow blinked again. +Johnny saw it, shortly after midnight. The +boat was closer in, now, and he could make +out the separate lights of the arrow as they +flashed, up there on the hillside. If there was +another light out at sea, it must have been far +away—or too low to be visible. He caught no +sight of it.</p> +<p>When the arrow appeared, Johnny got busy +at once. With small circles, like coins in a row, +he sketched an arrow, in pencil.</p> +<p>From the tip of the flashing arrow to the +other end, there were thirteen lights. Besides, +there were two lights slanting back on each +side, at the tip. These four helped form the +head of the arrow. Four others, in pairs, made +the feather end.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_75">[75]</div> +<p>As he watched intently through powerful +binoculars loaned him by the professor, +Johnny noted that the thirteen lights blinked +separately, but the eight which comprised the +head and feather of the arrow, blinked in +unison.</p> +<p>“Those eight lights must stand for a period,” +he concluded. “The thirteen are letters, or code +numbers. I wonder how they work.”</p> +<p>For some time, as on that other occasion, +Johnny recorded the winking and blinking of +the lights. When at last the green arrow +became dark, he took a turn about the deck, +then settled down to the task of trying to +figure that code. Dawn found him still figuring, +but seemingly no nearer the solution.</p> +<p>“Dumb!” he exploded at last, as he crammed +the notebook into his pocket and went to +breakfast. When he returned to the deck late +that afternoon he found Doris and Dave +working over some notes.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_76">[76]</div> +<p>“Hello, Johnny. How about those pictures +we took yesterday?” It was Dave who spoke.</p> +<p>“Oh, yes,” Johnny exclaimed. He had forgotten +them. “Come on to the darkroom, if +you like. I’ll develop them right away.”</p> +<p>Doris accompanied them to the darkroom. +There, fascinated, they watched strange creatures +of the depths come out on the film.</p> +<p>The great, shadowy creature which had +peered out from a rocky cavern was, the picture +revealed, a veritable deep-sea monster.</p> +<p>“If only I could bring him up!” Dave exclaimed. +“But then, he’d never live at surface +levels. But our great, sea-green octopus, I do +believe, could live anywhere. I’m going after +him!”</p> +<p>Most interesting of all—and most baffling—was +the picture Johnny had taken of the great, +slow-moving thing seen in the open water far +from the rocks.</p> +<p>“Oh, that!” exclaimed Dave, as it began coming +out in the film, “that’s really a monster +for you!”</p> +<p>“If it <i>is</i> a monster,” said Johnny, in a tone +of mystery.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_77">[77]</div> +<p>Whatever it might be, the picture only +added to the mystery. Too far away, too +indistinct to be seen clearly, the thing might +have been a whale, or some other form of +deep-sea monster. Truth was—deep down in +his heart Johnny believed it to be neither. His +theories were too fantastic to be put into +words—at the moment.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>Their afternoon ashore the following day +proved interesting, inspiring, and exciting.</p> +<p>They were served a grand meal of native +wild turkey, baked sweet potatoes and all +manner of delicious, tropical fruits. After that, +Mr. Kennedy took Dave, Doris and the +professor for a look at some unusual wild +birds, nesting at the edge of the jungle.</p> +<p>Johnny settled himself comfortably in a +split-bamboo chair and gave himself over to +wondering and dreaming.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_78">[78]</div> +<p>Mildred had gone to supervise the washing +of her precious dishes—some of which dated +back to ancient buccaneer days—so Johnny +was alone with his thoughts. And strange +thoughts they were.... He recalled having heard +the bearded giant Kennedy saying to the +professor—too much absorbed in research to +pay much attention—“Those men, those Europeans! +They starve their own people, and use +the money to buy gunboats and cannon. They +are slaves—those people—slaves! If we don’t +watch out <i>we’ll</i> be slaves, too!... Look at this +Caribbean Sea! More important than the +Mediterranean ever was! And who’s to stop +them from taking possession of these islands? +Why, even the president of this poor little +Republic is in debt to them! Up to his ears!”</p> +<p>Was Kennedy right? Johnny wondered, +dreamily. What of that signal up there on the +ridge—the signal of the green arrow? Was <i>it</i> +operated by spies? And if so—what had they +been saying with those blinking lights? +What—</p> +<p>“Penny for your thoughts!” Mildred was +back.</p> +<p>“Not worth it.” Johnny stood up. “Tell you +what, though—I’ll play you a game!”</p> +<p>“What sort of game?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_79">[79]</div> +<p>“Game of the Green Arrow. The object is +to discover what it says!”</p> +<p>Drawing up a small table, Johnny spread a +notebook and some papers on it.</p> +<p>“Now,” he said. “Here’s a drawing of the +green arrow. Twenty-one green lights make the +arrow. Thirteen in a row,” he pointed out, “two +here, two there, and two more on each side +at the other end. The last eight blink all at +the same time, but the thirteen—only one at +a time. By their blinking they are conveying +messages. But what do they say? Here’s a set +of papers with records of their blinking, all +marked with numbers. If you can work that +out, you go to the head of the class!”</p> +<p>“I see. Easy as that!” Mildred laughed, and +promptly seated herself across from him.</p> +<p>After that, save for the lazy hum of bees +or the sudden whir of humming birds’ wings, +there was silence in the place....</p> +<p>Suddenly the girl sprang up. “Why, I—I’ve +got it!” she cried, excitedly.</p> +<p>“Just like that!” Johnny smiled.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_80">[80]</div> +<p>“Well, I certainly have! Listen! This is what +that first message says:</p> +<p>“<i>Keep a sharp lookout. There are counter-spies +afloat.</i>”</p> +<p>“WHAT! Gee willikens!” Johnny gazed at +her, truly amazed. “How could you make it +read like that?”</p> +<p>“Because that’s the way it <i>does</i> read!” she +raced on. “It’s really easy. There are twenty-six +letters in the alphabet. Having thirteen lights +suggests that they have split that twenty-six +<i>in two</i>. Each light must stand for <i>two</i> letters. +But the question is—which two? Well, the <i>top</i> +thirteen stand for A, B, C, etc. But what +about the bottom ones?</p> +<p>“The simplest way,” she leaned forward, +smiling, “would be to put the <i>last</i> thirteen +letters under the <i>first</i> thirteen! Then, blinking +<i>one</i> light for <i>two</i> letters, let the fellow receiving +the message see <i>which</i> of the two letters makes +sense.</p> +<p>“I tried that,” she went on “and it didn’t +make any sense at all, so I ran the <i>last</i> +thirteen, backwards. By trying each of the two +possible letters in each instance, I got the +message I just read to you.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_81">[81]</div> +<p>“Which must be just about right,” Johnny +breathed. “Mildred—you’re a wonder! Now let +the old green arrow blink! We’ll always know +what it’s saying—and we may make some +startling discoveries.” With that he seized her +hands and whirled her wildly about the broad +porch.</p> +<p>“List—listen,” she panted, as, quite out of +breath, she dropped into a chair, “what’s +that?”</p> +<p>“Natives singing, I suppose” said Johnny, +“they are fond of singing.”</p> +<p>“Those singers are not natives!” The girl +held up a hand for silence. “They never sing +like that. Besides—all those voices are men’s!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_82">[82]</div> +<h2 id="c7"><span class="small">CHAPTER VII</span> +<br />MYSTERY SINGERS OF THE NIGHT</h2> +<p>Mildred was leaning forward, lips parted, +listening intently.</p> +<p>“What are they singing?” she whispered.</p> +<p>“I can’t make it out,” was Johnny’s slow +reply. “Too far away. Besides—it doesn’t +sound like English, at all.”</p> +<p>“Now,” she said, softly, “now it is coming +out stronger.” A sudden breeze wafted the +distant voices toward them.</p> +<p>“It’s a funny old song,” said Johnny. “I’ve +heard it somewhere. Perhaps it’s from light +opera.”</p> +<p>“But how strange to be singing that, here! +Who could they be?”</p> +<p>“Who knows?” Johnny answered slowly.</p> +<p>“Now they’re coming closer,” he said a +moment later. “Must be eight or ten of them!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_83">[83]</div> +<p>“Suppose they come all the way?” She +gripped his arm firmly. “That would be—”</p> +<p>“I think we’ll take care of ourselves, +Mildred.” His tone was deeply serious. “Some +time,” he added, reflectively, “we’ll go up to +that ancient castle that was a fort—and, +perhaps, a prison!”</p> +<p>“We might, some day. Only—”</p> +<p>“Only what?”</p> +<p>“It might be dangerous.”</p> +<p>“Poof!—What is danger?”</p> +<p>“I know. That’s the way I feel, sometimes. +What’s the use of being afraid of—of anything?</p> +<p>“But we’d have to find the right trail,” she +added. “Those hills are terrible. They’re all cut +up with ravines. There are animal trails and +native trails running everywhere. It—it’s +almost impossible to keep them straight.”</p> +<p>After that, for a time, they were silent. The +sound of singing, coming ever closer, increased +in volume. The tunes changed, but not once +could they understand the words. It was +strange.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_84">[84]</div> +<p>Somewhere in the jungle a jaguar screamed +Nearer at hand some night-bird sang: “Oh—poor—me! +Oh—poor—me!”</p> +<p>“It’s dark,” Johnny whispered. “Seems like +the folks should be back?”</p> +<p>“They were going quite a distance, and anyhow +they took flashlights.”</p> +<p>To Johnny, the place suddenly seemed deserted +and silent. Seeing a high-power rifle in +the corner, he picked it up and threw back +the catch. It was loaded. He set it back +without a sound.</p> +<p>“There!” The girl’s sudden exclamation +startled him. “They’ve stopped singing! I +expected that!”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“I don’t believe they knew anyone lived here. +I could tell all the time just how far they were, +on the trail. I’ve heard natives singing over +that trail a hundred times. The sound changes +when they reach the clearing.”</p> +<p>“And you think—?”</p> +<p>“I think that when they reached the clearing +they were surprised. They didn’t want to be +seen. That’s why they stopped singing. Now +they must be going back.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_85">[85]</div> +<p>“Or—coming on!” Johnny stepped to the +corner and took up the rifle.</p> +<p>“No!” the girl’s tone was decisive. “They’ve +turned back.”</p> +<p>A moment passed in silence;—two—three—four—five. +Then the girl sprang silently to her +feet.</p> +<p>“Come!” she gripped his hand. “Let’s go +have a look!”</p> +<p>Astonished, Johnny caught up the rifle and +followed. Never had he known anyone who +could get over a jungle trail so fast in the +night. She carried a flashlight, but seldom +used it. Three times she paused to listen. The +third time, as Johnny stirred slightly in the +path, she whispered:</p> +<p>“Shish!”</p> +<p>“Sounds like oars,” Johnny whispered back.</p> +<p>“It <i>is</i> oars!” came back in a barely audible +whisper.</p> +<p>“Then they came by boat.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_86">[86]</div> +<p>“Yes. Come on!” Once more she gripped his +hand and this time they advanced slowly, +cautiously. Not a twig snapped.</p> +<p>Once again they paused as a low, bumping +sound reached their ears.</p> +<p>A moment more and they came out of the +jungle, on a broad, sandy beach. Instantly +Johnny’s well-trained eyes swept the sea. The +moon was just rising. It painted a golden path +across the waters, far into the distance. But +there was no sign of a boat.</p> +<p>“Can you beat that!” Johnny murmured, +softly.</p> +<p>“We must have been mistaken,” said Mildred, +wonderingly.</p> +<p>“Only we were not!” Johnny thought. But +he made no comment.</p> +<p>Gripping his arm, the girl led him along the +beach until they came upon a mark in the sand.</p> +<p>“A boat was pulled up here,” she said, +positively.</p> +<p>Johnny threw a gleam of light on the spot. +“Queer sort of mark,” he murmured. “No +regular boat! It’s like the mark a white man’s +boat would make—or perhaps a collapsible +boat.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_87">[87]</div> +<p>A moment later his eyes caught a faint +gleam. Pretending to examine the sand, he +stooped over to pick up a metal disc. Without +knowing just why, he thrust it into his pocket.</p> +<p>“What she doesn’t know won’t worry her,” +he told himself a moment later.</p> +<p>“Well,” Mildred said, in a tone of forced +cheerfulness, “this seems to be the end of the +search. Let’s go back.”</p> +<p>“O.K.”</p> +<p>They turned about and were soon threading +their way back through the jungle. “Johnny,” +she said at last, “We need our boat more than +ever, now.”</p> +<p>“For protection as well as profit?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Ask Dave to take you down in the steel +ball,” Johnny suggested. “He’ll do it, I’m sure, +as he’s in love with the professor’s invention. +Can’t say I blame him, either. After that—ask +him to help find your boat”.</p> +<p>“I’ll ask him tonight, if he’ll take me down.”</p> +<p>And she did.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_88">[88]</div> +<p>“What’s that?” Dave asked, as they all sat +on the porch, a little later. “You want to go +down in our steel ball?”</p> +<p>“Yes. Yes—I—I’d like to.” The words took +real courage, as she did <i>not</i> want to. In fact—she +was dreadfully frightened at the thought. +And yet—</p> +<p>“Well,” said Dave, “I don’t see why you +shouldn’t—tomorrow.”</p> +<p>“To—tomorrow?” She shuddered slightly, +but he could not see her, in the dark.</p> +<p>“Yes, tomorrow. There’ll be no picture-taking. +I’m going after a sea-green monster—probably +the largest octopus anyone ever saw!”</p> +<p>“Oh—o—o!”</p> +<p>“He won’t get <i>you</i>,” Dave laughed. “Can’t +get inside the ball. What do you say? Is it +a date?”</p> +<p>“Yes—I—yes! Yes! Sure it is!”</p> +<p>“Fine! Can you be on board at eight in the +morning?”</p> +<p>“Yes—I—I’ll be there. Thanks—thanks a +lot!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_89">[89]</div> +<p>“Well,” she whispered to Johnny a short +time later. “He’s going to take me down! +Tomorrow! And I’m scared pink!”</p> +<p>“You needn’t be,” Johnny laughed. “It’s +safer than an auto on Michigan Avenue in +Chicago! And just think—you’ll be the first +young lady ever to go down five hundred feet +beneath the surface of the sea! At least, I imagine +you will!”</p> +<p>“That,” she replied with a slightly unsteady +chuckle, “will be a very great honor!”</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>As Johnny changed to heavier clothes for his +watch, later that night, the disc he had found +on the beach, fell from his pocket.</p> +<p>He picked it up and realized instantly that +it was a button from a uniform jacket.</p> +<p>“So that’s it!” he murmured, as he buried it +deep in his pocket.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_90">[90]</div> +<p>A night on this tropical river, into which they +had come for easier access to the Kennedy +cottage, was a new and interesting experience +for Johnny. Mangrove trees, growing far out +over the river, all but touched the deck. A +troop of monkeys, apparently planning to cross +the river on swinging branches, came chattering +along to burst into a sudden frenzy of fear +and anger at sight of this intruder. Crocodiles +floated lazily on the dark surface of the water. +Their eyes shone like balls of fire when +Johnny’s flashlight was directed at them.</p> +<p>From the far distance came the singing of +men and women, a native chant. A little later, +paddles gleaming in the light, some of the +singers floated past. Their large dugout was +loaded with all manner of tropical fruits—bananas, +pineapples, wild oranges and mangoes.</p> +<p>“What a life,” Johnny murmured, as the +natives drifted past. He thought of the +conditions of thousands of persons in the great +cities of America—then looked out again at +that boatload of people. It would be grand, +he thought, to live here forever. And yet, there +were the spies, and debts to those Europeans.</p> +<p>“Debts,” he sighed, “that haunt them till +they die.”</p> +<p>Doris came on deck. “You just <i>can’t</i> sleep on +such a night!” she sighed. “It’s too wonderful—the +river, the moonlight, and the dark, mysterious +jungle at night.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_91">[91]</div> +<p>“And the spies,” Johnny added. “Don’t +forget them!”</p> +<p>“The—the spies?” She stared at him.</p> +<p>He told her of his adventure with Mildred, +and, of the mysterious night singers.</p> +<p>“They vanished,” he ended. “Vanished into +thin air. And they had a boat of some sort. +We saw its mark in the sand.”</p> +<p>“How thrilling! How sort of spooky!” she +murmured.</p> +<p>“And there’s the code of the green arrow,” +Johnny added. “We solved that—or rather +Mildred did.” He explained it to her.</p> +<p>“That sounds dangerous.” She seemed a little +startled. “But it—it doesn’t affect us, does it?”</p> +<p>“No—oo—not directly,” he responded. “But +they are spies, all right! Their message shows +that. You can’t have counter-spies without +first having spies. If they should chance to +think that <i>we</i> are the counter-spies, and that +we’re watching them from the steel ball, and—”</p> +<p>“The steel ball! How <i>could</i> we?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_92">[92]</div> +<p>“Well,” Johnny replied slowly, “perhaps we +couldn’t. That was just a notion. But we <i>could</i> +be counter-spies.”</p> +<p>“But we’re not!”</p> +<p>“That,” he laughed, “is what they may not +know.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you and your spies!” she exclaimed. +“You’re always taking the joy out of life. +Look at that moon!”</p> +<p>“I have been looking at it. Big as a barrel!”</p> +<p>“Gorgeous,” she agreed. “Do you know?” she +stepped over to the rail. “I’ve been thinking +of that picture you suggested—the one painted +beneath the sea. It would be wonderfully +colorful—all those bright, tropical fish, the +waving water-ferns, the coral, and all that. I’m +going to try it, some time. Only—”</p> +<p>“Only what?”</p> +<p>“The sharks.”</p> +<p>“They won’t trouble you. I’ll stay on deck +and watch. If anything comes after you, I’ll +be right down. Is it a bargain?”</p> +<p>“I’ll do it.” She put out a hand and, +solemnly, they “shook” on it.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_93">[93]</div> +<p>Ten minutes later Johnny was alone with his +thoughts, and the night. They were long, long +thoughts. He was working out a theory about +the messages of the Green Arrow, and the +whisperings beneath the sea.</p> +<p>One question brought him up with a start. +If these people were foreign spies—why did +they speak in <i>English</i>? For a time, this was a +poser. But then the answer came, and he threw +back his head and laughed! Foreign spies, sent +to America would be <i>required</i> to speak English! +If they were keeping in touch with some of +their own people by short-wave—<i>of course</i> they +would speak English! Otherwise, anyone listening-in +on their messages, would instantly +suspect them.</p> +<p>That the messages of the green arrow also +were in English, was not so easy to explain. +“Perhaps talking and sending messages in +English, has become force of habit with them,” +he told himself.</p> +<p>The night was long, too, and he was tired. +He rejoiced when the first flush of dawn told +him a new day was here.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_94">[94]</div> +<p>Dave came on deck early. “We’ll be getting +out of here at eight,” he said. “I guess you +know that I’m taking Mildred down below, +today. It’ll be interesting to see how a girl +reacts to all that strange environment. She +seems a bit timid. But she asked for it. So—”</p> +<p>“There’s someone <i>I’d</i> like to take down,” +Johnny said, suddenly.</p> +<p>“Who?” Dave questioned.</p> +<p>“Old Samatan.”</p> +<p>“In the name of goodness!” Dave exclaimed. +“Why?”</p> +<p>“He acts very queer about that steel ball—looks +as if he’d like to bite a chunk out of it, +and I don’t understand it.”</p> +<p>Johnny hesitated. “Perhaps if someone took +him down, it would clear up some mistaken +notions in his queer old head. He seems to +have a lot of influence with the other natives. +If anything should happen—”</p> +<p>“Nothing will happen.” Dave broke in. “This +is the quietest place in the world.”</p> +<p>“Do you think so?” Johnny asked, with a +little smile.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_95">[95]</div> +<p>Dave nodded, absently. “But if you’d like to +take Samatan down,” he added, “it’s O.K. +with me. Be a grand experience for the old +fellow. He’d never get over telling about it.”</p> +<p>“Soon?” asked Johnny.</p> +<p>“Any time you like,” was the answer.</p> +<p>Thanking Dave, Johnny ambled off to his +berth for a long and dreamless sleep.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_96">[96]</div> +<h2 id="c8"><span class="small">CHAPTER VIII</span> +<br />MONSTER OF THE DEEP</h2> +<p>Morning came and, for Mildred—the +ride in that steel ball.</p> +<p>Never in all her life had she been so +thrilled, and so frightened. Curled up inside +the sturdy metal sphere, she went down—down—down, +into the mysterious depths of the +ocean. The light from the quartz window +seemed bright blue, yet she experienced trouble +in distinguishing small objects within the ball.</p> +<p>The creatures outside the window were +strange beyond belief. Here a great school of +blue fish shot past. There a six-foot monster +with waving tail sped on in swift pursuit of +smaller fry. And a group of small, dark, +crab-like creatures wriggled their way across +the scene. A little farther from the window +loomed a dark wall. She shuddered at sight of +this. All too vividly she recalled Johnny’s account +of their harrowing experience on that +other day.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_97">[97]</div> +<p>At Johnny’s first suggestion that she accompany +Dave on this sub-sea journey, her +impulse had been to say quite definitely—“No! +I won’t go!”</p> +<p>But she had not said it. She just must have +Dave’s help in finding their schooner. So—she +continued to shudder as they went down—down—down.</p> +<p>Dave was at her side, saying never a word. +Staring at the passing scene, now throwing on +a powerful light, now switching it off again, +he appeared to have forgotten she was there.</p> +<p>It was to be a very short trip, perhaps only +half an hour. They were to make an attempt +to capture some fantastic sort of creature. +Mildred was thinking of this now, wondering +in a vague sort of way, how the capture was +to be made. Then suddenly, her thoughts were +interrupted. Her heart skipped a beat as Dave +exclaimed:</p> +<p>“Man! Oh, man!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_98">[98]</div> +<p>The steel ball was now close to the wall. For +the moment, at a command from Dave, it had +ceased dropping. Suddenly from a crevice in +the wall there glided a form resembling a +great golden serpent from a fairy tale.</p> +<p>“Zowie!” Dave chuckled, “he sure looks +dangerous—but he’s not. A golden-tailed serpent +dragon,” he explained. “They’re quite +rare.</p> +<p>“Now,” he spoke into his microphone, +“slowly downward.”</p> +<p>Once more the rocky ledge appeared to glide +upward.</p> +<p>“Should be there soon,” Dave murmured. +“Only hope the old boy is at home. He +probably is. But we may miss him. It’s hard +to get the right location.”</p> +<p>For Dave this brief expedition had one +purpose—to capture the immense, sea-green octopus +he had seen on a previous trip. As they +continued to sink into the depths, his eyes remained +fixed on that wall. Then of a sudden +he exclaimed:</p> +<p>“There! There he is!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_99">[99]</div> +<p>Adjusting his microphone he said:</p> +<p>“Doris, we are here. Stop the cable drum.”</p> +<p>The ball ceased to sink. For a full moment +Mildred saw only a dark cavern in the wall. +Then suddenly she was startled to discover +two large eyes staring out at her.</p> +<p>A moment more and a long arm came wavering +toward them.</p> +<p>“Doris,” said Dave. His voice was steady. +“Have them swing us out a bit. Ten feet may +do.” Then, seconds later, he said: “There. +That’s it.”</p> +<p>He began working at something close beside +him. As Mildred watched the dark cavern she +saw an arm reach out, then another. For a +time these appeared to wave aimlessly. Then +they took direction. To her astonishment she +saw that a steel rod had swung outward +toward the octopus from the bottom of the +ball. At the end of this arm were steel clamps, +and in the clamps she saw a dead lobster. The +terrifying tentacles of the octopus, appearing +fully twenty feet long, were moving toward +the lobster.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_100">[100]</div> +<p>“The octopus feeds on shell fish—crabs and +lobsters,” Dave explained briefly.</p> +<p>“Now,” he breathed, as one long arm encircled +the steel clamps. “Now—I wonder what +luck.” Once again he worked at levers and +small handscrews at his side. The clamp out +there in the water half opened, then closed +again. This was repeated twice. Then:</p> +<p>“Ah! Got him!” Dave’s voice rose exultantly. +Into the phone he whispered, “Doris. +Out a little—and then up, at top speed!”</p> +<p>To her astonishment Mildred saw a great +mass of twisting arms emerge from the cavern. +One by one these arms wound themselves about +the steel ball. One of these, a great +scaly affair with little suckers on its underside, +crossed the window. With a little cry of +dismay she shrank back.</p> +<p>“He can’t get to you,” Dave laughed. “Even +if he could, he’d be harmless enough, unless he +drew you beneath the water and drowned you.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_101">[101]</div> +<p>“You see,” he added, “while the octopus was +working to get that lobster, I opened the +clamps. His arm slipped in, and I closed them. +Now he’s making himself comfortable for the +ride. It will be a longer ride than you might +suppose—all the way to the New York aquarium! +And boy! Will he be something to look +at! Largest ever captured, I’m sure—and sea-green +at that. This being a naturalist is the +berries, when things are right. All you have +to do—</p> +<p>“Hello!” he exclaimed. “Here we are at the +top, already. Now for some work.”</p> +<p>Before making any attempt to get the big-eyed +octopus into the ship’s pool for live specimens, +Dave assisted Mildred from the ball. +When she climbed forth, she felt a cold chill +course down her spine. Those great, scaly arms +were not a foot from her head. But they did +not move.</p> +<p>“Good boy, Dave!” the professor exclaimed +half an hour later, as they watched the octopus +surveying his prison tank in the <i>Sea +Nymph’s</i> hold. “That is a real prize! A few +finds like that and we will have more than +paid our way.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_102">[102]</div> +<p>“I like to think,” he added, quietly, “that we +are truly serving the millions of people whose +only chance to see rare creatures of land or +sea is in the zoos and aquariums.”</p> +<p>“I am sure it <i>is</i> a great service,” Mildred +exclaimed. “But professor! What spooky waters +those are down there!”</p> +<p>“Yes, they are spooky,” the professor agreed. +“But today, I take it, they were not whispering?”</p> +<p>“No,” the girl agreed. “The whisperer seems +to have vanished.”</p> +<p>“These little undersea journeys always make +me hungry,” said Dave. “Come on Mildred—let’s +have a cup of tea.”</p> +<p>Seated under a colored umbrella on deck, +they sipped their tea in silence. Mildred was +thinking—“I wonder if this is the time to ask +him?”</p> +<p>It was Dave who at last broke the silence.</p> +<p>“Well, Mildred,” he said, “you behaved very +well for the first time down. I was wondering—”</p> +<p>“If a girl could take it,” she smiled. +“Down here we just have to—all the time.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_103">[103]</div> +<p>“How so?” he asked in surprise. “In what +way?”</p> +<p>“Well, only a few days ago grandfather lost +his motorboat. It’s somewhere at the bottom +of the sea, but not far down. I wasn’t on +board when it sank. And now,” she hesitated, +“now fresh dangers appear to threaten us, and +we have no boat either for trading or—or for +escape!”</p> +<p>“Escape? Escape from what?” Dave ejaculated.</p> +<p>“Well, we might have to escape, you see.” +Mildred leaned forward eagerly. Her eyes +shone. “Grandfather always has opposed those +men—spies, really—who are trying to get all +the islanders under their control. So they hate +him. Just recently—”</p> +<p>She went on to tell of the code message +flashed by the green arrow and of other +strange and unexplained happenings. “Of +course,” she added, “nothing has been <i>done</i> yet. +But you never can tell.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_104">[104]</div> +<p>“And you want me to help you find that +motorboat of yours, with my steel ball? Am +I a good guesser?”</p> +<p>“You certainly are,” the girl replied, frankly.</p> +<p>“And you didn’t really want to go down in +the steel ball—you were terribly frightened by +the thought? But you believed it might help, +so—”</p> +<p>“So I went,” she breathed. “You don’t mind, +do you?”</p> +<p>“Mind?” he exploded. “I think you are a +grand, brave, little girl. If you were my sister,”—he +paused to grin good naturedly.</p> +<p>Smiling back at him, Mildred felt sure she +would be aided in her search for her grandfather’s +motorboat. The thought made her very +happy.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_105">[105]</div> +<h2 id="c9"><span class="small">CHAPTER IX</span> +<br />DAVE’S ELECTRIC GUN</h2> +<p>Once again it was night.</p> +<p>Johnny walked slowly back and forth +along the narrow deck. There was about him +on this night a sense of uneasiness, as if some +unusual thing was about to happen, or possibly +a whole succession of things, which might +change the whole course of his life.... That +very evening he had heard old Samatan making +a speech to the native crew—a fiery sort +of speech, with the men uttering grunts of +approval every now and then.</p> +<p>“I’ll take him down in the steel ball tomorrow, +if I get the chance,” Johnny assured himself. +“That should cool him off!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_106">[106]</div> +<p>Samatan, however, was not the only cause of +his uneasiness. There was the sign of the green +arrow, those singers, and the boat mark on the +beach—and Mr. Kennedy’s constant talk of +spies. All these, he felt, were part of a strange +pattern of events.</p> +<p>“The whole thing may blow up any time,” +he told himself. “And then what—” His +thoughts were interrupted suddenly. He sprang +forward. He could swear he had seen something +move near the steel ball.</p> +<p>“No one here now,” he murmured, circling +the ball, slowly. “Imagined it, I guess. My +nerves are jumpy tonight.”</p> +<p>A whole succession of small, dark clouds, high +in the heavens, had been passing before the +moon. One moment the deck was white with +moonlight; the next, it was dark as the deep +sea.</p> +<p>Johnny laughed softly, and found it helped +steady him. Taking another turn ’round the +steel ball, he walked past the open top of the +tank in which the giant, sea-green octopus was +kept. As he came alongside, there was a sudden +splash—as if the creature had thrown out +a long arm and allowed it to drop. It gave him +a real start. Suppose the monster reached out +for him and really made connections. +Suppose—</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_107">[107]</div> +<p>There was that darting shadow again. Or was +it? Just then a big cloud hid the moon.</p> +<p>“It’s nothing,” he assured himself. “Can’t +be. Crew’s all asleep. No chance of anyone +coming on board without being seen. Guess I’ll +have to take a good, long, drink of cold water.”</p> +<p>Going to the stern he obtained his thermos +bottle, uncorked it and drank.</p> +<p>Then he dropped into a steamer chair to await +the reappearance of the moon from behind +that big, black cloud.</p> +<p>The cloud still obscured it when, swift as a +shot, he leapt straight into the air, as from +the octopus tank came a shrill, hair-raising +scream of terror.</p> +<p>“Great Jehosophat!” he exclaimed as he +sprinted down the deck.</p> +<p>One flash of his electric torch showed a hand +waving wildly above the surface of the water. +An instant later a head bobbed up. Eyes wild, +nostrils dilated, the mouth opened in another +unearthly scream as the victim vanished beneath +the water, now thoroughly roiled by the +octopus’ savage threshing.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_108">[108]</div> +<p>Long slimy arms appeared—here, there—seemingly +everywhere. Then again, a man’s +head broke the surface.</p> +<p>But now Johnny was on the steel ladder, +reaching for the hand that had followed the +head above water. Seizing it, and wrapping his +left arm about a rung of the ladder, he pulled +with all his might. That he was taking his life +in his hands, he well knew. Those scaly arms +seemed to be feeling for <i>him</i>. If they reached +him—</p> +<p>All the while, Johnny was thinking, “Who +is this person and how did he get on board?”</p> +<p>Thanks to Johnny’s good right arm, the +man’s head remained above the surface. He +was a swarthy individual, with short-cropped, +black hair. Spitting out a quantity of water, +he whispered hoarsely:</p> +<p>“Don’t let him! Don’t let him pull me back +under!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_109">[109]</div> +<p>There came a sudden tug that all but broke +Johnny’s grip on the man’s hand. At the same +time, waving above the disturbed surface of +the tank, a long, slimy arm seemed to feel for +the boy on the ladder.</p> +<p>Then, to Johnny’s vast relief, came Dave’s +voice, calling:</p> +<p>“Johnny! Johnny Thompson! Where are +you?”</p> +<p>“Here! Here in the tank! Help—and <i>hurry</i>!” +Johnny shouted, desperately.</p> +<p>There came the sound of running feet along +the deck. At that very instant, a scaly tentacle +found Johnny’s wrist and wrapped itself +about the two hands, binding them together +as with a band of steel.</p> +<p>“Wha—what’s happened?” Dave threw a +flash of light on the fantastic scene. His quick +eye took it all in at a glance. “Hang on, +Johnny! I—I’ll be back in a jiffy!” Then he +was gone.</p> +<p>The tremendous power of that steady pull +from the tank, promised to wrench Johnny’s +arm from its socket. The stranger in the pool +uttered a low groan. Johnny’s mind went into +a tailspin, but he hung on desperately. How +would this end? Would Dave <i>never</i> arrive?</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_110">[110]</div> +<p>“Now!” came from above, and Dave was +back. In one hand he held an automatic, and +in the other, what appeared to be an iron rod.</p> +<p>“Get ready for an electric shock,” he said, +quietly. “I think this will fix him.”</p> +<p>He thrust out the rod until it touched one +arm of the octopus. Next instant, Johnny felt +a powerful electric shock that brought his +muscles up with a jerk. Again, and yet again +came the shock. Johnny could hear the +stranger’s teeth chatter. Then he saw the fellow’s +other hand. It was free. At the same time +the scaly thing about his wrist began to relax.</p> +<p>Giving a powerful pull, he lifted the stranger +half out of the water. Twenty seconds later +they both were free, and tumbled, panting, on +the deck.</p> +<p>For a full minute Johnny lay motionless. +When at last he sat up he said to Dave:</p> +<p>“Hang onto that gun. You may need it.”</p> +<p>Turning to the swarthy stranger he demanded:</p> +<p>“What were you doing on this boat?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_111">[111]</div> +<p>“I was just a-passin’ by, and took a notion +to climb aboard,” the stranger muttered.</p> +<p>“You are lying,” said Johnny. “You were +spying into things! Why?”</p> +<p>“I wasn’t spying! I don’t know what you’re +talking about,” said the man.</p> +<p>“I don’t think he’s a spy,” said Dave. “He’s +just some native.”</p> +<p>“Native, my eye!” snapped Johnny. He had +noted the outline of a long knife, showing +through the fellow’s wet garments.</p> +<p>By this time the native crew was swarming +up from below, and Doris and the professor +were standing in the shadows.</p> +<p>“Let the fellow go,” Dave whispered to +Johnny. “He’s just some native who happened +by in a dugout, saw our boat and thought he’d +have a look. He might have meant to steal +something, but you can’t prove that. We don’t +want to get these natives excited. They might +leave us in a body. Then where would we be?”</p> +<p>“Oh—all right,” Johnny agreed, reluctantly. +To the man he said: “Come with me.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_112">[112]</div> +<p>The man’s boat was tied to a belaying pin +up forward. As they walked in that direction, +Johnny and the intruder were out of sight of +the others, for a moment.</p> +<p>“I’ll just take this to remember you by,” said +Johnny, dragging the man’s knife from its +sheath. “If you’re a native—you should carry +a machete.”</p> +<p>The man favored him with a mocking smile, +then bolted over the rail into his small boat +and was gone.</p> +<p>“Well, that’s that!” said Johnny, as he +rejoined the others. “Here’s hoping he doesn’t +come back.”</p> +<p>“Johnny,” said Dave, “I wonder if you +weren’t making a whole lot out of a very +little.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps I was,” Johnny answered quietly. +He saw no point in arguing.</p> +<p>A moment later he said: “Dave—what was +that thing you shocked the octopus with?”</p> +<p>“That was an electric gun,” Dave laughed. +“We use it while we’re exploring the sea-bottom +on foot. If some big fish, like a shark, gets +too curious—we touch him and pull the trigger. +Believe me, they beat it!</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_113">[113]</div> +<p>“It’s lucky I had it,” he added. “Otherwise +I’m afraid I should have been obliged to kill +our prize, and that would have been a great +loss. By the way, Johnny, how did that fellow +get into the tank?”</p> +<p>“Tumbled in, I suppose. Probably thought +he was going down into the hold to prowl +around.”</p> +<p>“I wonder why?” said Dave.</p> +<p>But Johnny didn’t see fit to discuss the matter +further.</p> +<p>After the others had retired again, Johnny +took the stranger’s knife to the light and examined +it closely. Never had he seen such perfect +workmanship. The blade was of hand-forged +steel, with a handle of old ivory. Two +foreign words were stamped on the blade. +Johnny could not read them, but he knew very +well this was no native’s knife.</p> +<p>“A spy, beyond a doubt,” he muttered. +“Wonder how many there will be tomorrow +night. Dave must let me have a gun!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_114">[114]</div> +<p>Just then the moon came out from behind a +cloud, flooding the deck with white light. What +a difference that made. All the mystery of the +night seemed to fade.</p> +<p>Johnny shrugged his shoulders and continued +to pace the deck.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_115">[115]</div> +<h2 id="c10"><span class="small">CHAPTER X</span> +<br />LITTLE BIG-HEADS</h2> +<p>Next day Johnny took Samatan for a +ride in the steel ball. He had supposed +it would be difficult, if not impossible, to +induce the dignified old native to accompany +him, but he was due for a surprise.</p> +<p>“Samatan,” he said pleasantly, “you know we +have been making trips far beneath the surface +of the sea in that steel ball.”</p> +<p>“Yes!” Suddenly Samatan was alert.</p> +<p>“Dave and I—we—well we thought you +might like to go down.”</p> +<p>“In the big ball?” The native’s eyes shone, +eagerly.</p> +<p>“Yes, that’s right.” Johnny answered.</p> +<p>“Today?” asked Samatan.</p> +<p>“If you wish.”</p> +<p>“In one hour,” said Samatan.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_116">[116]</div> +<p>An hour later, Samatan took his place beside +Johnny in the steel ball, watched the massive, +steel cap being screwed into place, felt the bump +of the ball on the deck, then sensed their drop +into the sea. All this—in stoical silence.</p> +<p>Down they went, a hundred feet—two hundred—five +hundred—a thousand. By the small +light at his side, Johnny watched the native’s +face. The expression never changed.</p> +<p>“He seems to be expecting something interesting +and exciting,” the boy told himself. +“Wonder what it could be. If he’s afraid, he +sure doesn’t show it.”</p> +<p>As they sank lower and lower, the darkness +increased. At last, as Johnny threw off the electric +light and all about them was inky black, +from the native’s lips came a hiss of surprise. +That was all.</p> +<p>When Johnny threw on a powerful light, the +look of expectation on Samatan’s face returned.</p> +<p>“Strange sort of person,” the boy thought. +“What can he be expecting to see?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_117">[117]</div> +<p>They were now standing still. The professor +on deck, had decided their descent had gone +far enough.</p> +<p>As Johnny sat staring into the inky blackness +before them, he gave a sudden start, then +snatched his camera. There, plainly in view, +was one of the strangest monsters he ever had +seen.</p> +<p>Scarcely had he adjusted his camera for a +picture, than a second creature appeared.</p> +<p>“Must be a school of them.” His hand trembled +a little.</p> +<p>Just as the camera clicked there began the +most amazing and terrifying experience of +Johnny’s eventful life. As though pushed by +a giant hand, as a child pushes a playmate in +a rope swing, the steel ball moved rapidly outward +and upward—although Johnny had given +no signal!</p> +<p>Outward and upward—one hundred—two +hundred—three hundred feet. Who could say +how far? What mysterious power motivated +this wild ride, and where would it end? +Would the cable snap?</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_118">[118]</div> +<p>Johnny made no effort to conceal the horror +reflected in his face by this thought. Sealed in +a steel ball, resting on the bottom of the sea, +half a mile or more below surface. What +chance? The boy’s lips moved, but no sound +came. Then, by sheer will power, he adopted +a calmer mood and waited the turn of events.</p> +<p>Samatan neither moved nor spoke. Strange +Samatan! Did he think this was part of the +show? And what had he been waiting so +patiently to see?</p> +<p>There was even greater consternation on +board the <i>Sea Nymph</i>.</p> +<p>Dave had gone ashore for a bit of dry-land +exploring but, with Doris at his side, the professor +stood watching the pumps that sent air +to the occupants of the steel ball. His gaze, +reflecting serious concern, was focused intently +on the gauge registering strain on the steel +ball’s cables.</p> +<p>“Doris!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Look, +Doris! <i>Look! The strain has doubled!</i> The cable +is perilously near the breaking point!”</p> +<p>“Poor Johnny!” Doris cried, distractedly. +“Down there with old Samatan! If the cable +breaks—”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_119">[119]</div> +<p>“If the cable breaks—no power on earth can +save them!” The professor’s voice dropped. +“The bottom must be a full mile down and I +doubt whether the ball could withstand the +terrific pressure. Nor is there any way we +could bring it to the surface!”</p> +<p>“What can be done?” Doris was wringing her +hands.</p> +<p>“Pray!” was the professor’s simple reply. +“Strange things are accomplished by prayer, +and faith.”</p> +<p>Doris <i>did</i> pray. Then they waited in silence. +Ten seconds ticked their way into eternity. +Twenty—thirty—sixty. The arrow of the +gauge moved nearer the “maximum strain” +point at the top of the dial—and stood still. +Then, for a brief second, it moved forward +again.</p> +<p>“The cable! It can never stand the torsion!” +the professor groaned.</p> +<p>Just as all seemed lost, the arrow quivered—and +began, slowly, to move the other way.</p> +<p>“Thank God!” exclaimed the professor, fervently. +“It—it’s going down, Doris, child.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_120">[120]</div> +<p>Staring at the dial, Doris opened her lips in +silent thanksgiving. She could only stand and +stare.</p> +<p>What had happened?</p> +<p>That was a question that remained unanswered +for weeks. Some tremendous power behind +the steel ball had pushed it away and up, +until its certain doom seemed inevitable.</p> +<p>Then, with a sudden, rolling lurch, the ball +had been freed and at once began sinking to +its original position. Fortunately, the resistance +of the water was so great, there was no danger +that the stopping of the descent would snap +the cable.</p> +<p>As they reached bottom position, Johnny +grabbed Samatan’s hand and gripped it, impulsively.</p> +<p>Then it was that the native said a strange +thing:</p> +<p>“You go bottom now?” he asked, hopefully.</p> +<p>“No,” said Johnny, happily. “But we are <i>safe</i>, +man! I’m signalling them to draw us up!”</p> +<p>“No go bottom?” There was a suggestion of +disappointment in Samatan’s voice.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_121">[121]</div> +<p>Suddenly Johnny thought he understood. +Samatan had expected to see bottom. That was +what he had wanted, and it explained his +strange eagerness to go down. But <i>why</i>? What +did he expect to see there?</p> +<p>Johnny, however, was far too eagerly awaiting +the first, faint gleam of light as they rose, +to think much more about Samatan’s behavior.</p> +<p>The strange “dawn beneath the sea” came to +him once again. Such a glorious dawn! He was +to live on! What a privilege it became, suddenly, +just to live! The ball rose free of the +water, to swing about and bump gently down +to the deck. A few moments later, the professor +and Doris were gripping his hands and demanding +to know what had happened.</p> +<p>“What in the world went wrong?” they +asked, in chorus.</p> +<p>“We ran into a school of monsters.” Johnny +was now able to laugh at his predicament. +“They must have taken us for a ride, I guess!”</p> +<p>“What kind of monsters?” The professor was +so serious his voice trembled.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_122">[122]</div> +<p>“You won’t believe me if I tell you,” the +boy replied, soberly, “but here goes. They had +heads twice as large as their bodies! And those +heads! If only their mouths had been a little +larger, they might have swallowed our steel +ball at one gulp!”</p> +<p>“Did they have a small lower jaw and a large +upper one? Were their eyes set well back on +the side of their heads? Did their tails wave +like those of some tropical fish?” The professor +was growing excited.</p> +<p>“Yes, yes, and yes,” Johnny laughed again. +“But say—I tried to take pictures of them! +Wonder if they could have been good! Wait +till I get my camera.” He made a dive into the +steel ball to reappear at once with the camera.</p> +<p>“But Johnny!” Doris insisted, “you haven’t +told us what really happened?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know, and that’s a fact!” replied +Johnny, quietly, soberly. “I was just taking +pictures of those beasts when—”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_123">[123]</div> +<p>“They’re known as little big-heads,” the professor +broke in, “and they are rare, indeed! +You are the first person ever to see them alive. +Two specimens have been found washed up +on coral beaches, dead. You are a truly great +explorer, Johnny! You may now take a bow.”</p> +<p>“Aw, say!” Johnny fairly blushed.</p> +<p>“Anyway,” he insisted, “one of them must +have become tangled in our cable, and in his +wild efforts to free himself, took us for an +underseas joyride!”</p> +<p>“That doesn’t seem possible,” mused the professor, +slowly. “I should like to know what +really happened.”</p> +<p>“So should I!” Johnny agreed. “All I have +to say is—I’d like them to stay clear of our +cable, in the future! Please look at my hair! +Do you think it will turn white?”</p> +<p>“In thirty or forty years,” Doris laughed. +“But Johnny—we’re dying to see those pictures.”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes!—by all means!” the professor +agreed. “Let us see them at once.” So they +crowded into Johnny’s small darkroom to +watch the enthralling “coming out” of one +more set of plates.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>“Little big-heads,” the professor whispered +solemnly, as the pictures began to appear. +“Johnny, you are a wonder! Once again we +have registered a real triumph!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_124">[124]</div> +<p>“I’m glad of that,” Johnny said, sincerely. +“I like being a success. But even better—I +enjoy living!</p> +<p>“I’m sure I’ll not be able to sleep in the +dark for months to come,” he said, more lightly. +“I’ll be imagining I’m still in that steel +ball, swinging wide in utter darkness!”</p> +<p>“Johnny,” Doris whispered some time later, +“What <i>really</i> took you for that ride?”</p> +<p>“I could only guess—and it would be a wild +guess, at that!” There was a suggestion of +mystery in his voice. “I’m sure of one thing, +though. It wasn’t any little big-head!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_125">[125]</div> +<h2 id="c11"><span class="small">CHAPTER XI</span> +<br />TIGERS OF THE SEA</h2> +<p>Doris, standing on the ocean’s floor +forty feet down, started back in sudden +terror, and her foot struck a rock. She all but +fell over. On the beach she would have taken +a terrible tumble.</p> +<p>“It was just a shadow,” she told herself. +“Only a shadow moving beyond that great +rock. A blue shadow. Grandfather said I’d be +in no danger, and he should know.”</p> +<p>Involuntarily she put a hand over her wildly +beating heart, then smiled at her action and +at once felt better.</p> +<p>“I must finish,” she told herself, stoutly, as +she resumed her task.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_126">[126]</div> +<p>She was painting a picture. The circumstances +under which she worked were strange, +almost beyond belief. When Johnny had suggested +an underseas picture, she had been +truly thrilled. But she had shuddered and said, +“No!—I’d never dare do that!”</p> +<p>But—given one glimpse of the setting for +such a picture, she had become greatly excited. +“Such colors! Such contrasts! Yes—I surely +must paint it!” she had exclaimed.</p> +<p>The task now was well begun. She was wearing +tennis shoes and standing on sand. Before +her a great anchor, red with rust, leaned +against a huge boulder. Beside the anchor was +a copper-bound chest. One might easily have +imagined that this chest contained Spanish +treasure—gold, diamonds, rubies. But it was +empty, as Doris already had discovered.</p> +<p>The gray rock that supported the anchor +was festooned with vegetation of rare hues—red, +orange, pink, yellow, and deep dark blue, +mingled in profusion. In and out among these +plants darted small creatures which might almost +have been birds. The girl was wearing a +great brass helmet which hid her face. She was +looking through glass, at a world unbelievably +strange and beautiful.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_127">[127]</div> +<p>Above her, its shadow looming darkly, lay +the <i>Sea Nymph</i>. Descending from the boat was +a long tube that supplied her with air. A constant +trickle of bubbles escaped from beneath +her helmet. Her easel was weighted down, and +her canvas specially treated to resist water. +Her brushes and colors were the same she had +used on the sunny, tropical shores.</p> +<p>But the scene! How she thrilled to it! And +she was painting it as truly and exactly as +she could. Perhaps thousands who never had +been beneath the surface of the water would +look at this picture and wonder at its coloring.</p> +<p>Thrilled at the thought, she painted more +industriously than ever, forgetting entirely the +blue shadow. She had searched long for a spot +that would make the most interesting picture. +She had wandered, fascinated, until she had +chanced upon this anchor and strong box, lost +so long before.</p> +<p>It was indeed wonderful. With a background +of ivory and pink coral, purple plumes of seaweed, +fringes of lace-like anemone, in a framework +of water-washed rocks—it made a scene +not soon to be forgotten.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_128">[128]</div> +<p>So here she was, painting rapidly—though +far back in her mind was the memory of that +blue shadow behind the rock....</p> +<p>The scene was forever changing. A cloud +passing over the sun, dimmed the colors. Then +a large school of small fish, darting forward +at a furious rate, completely shut off her view.</p> +<p>But now! “Ah, now!” she thought, joyously.</p> +<p>A dozen tropical fish, the brightest and best +she ever had seen, came to play about the +ancient chest and “pose” for their pictures. +With quick, deft touches she painted them in—two, +staring large-eyed at the anchor—three, +peering into the ancient chest, and three just +“resting”.</p> +<p>But what was this?</p> +<p>Like a flock of birds that have caught sight +of a circling hawk, the tropical fish darted +swiftly away. Had they caught a glimpse of +a dangerous foe, gliding from behind the rock? +The girl thought so, and shuddered. She even +fancied she had caught its color again—dark +blue. But of this she could not be sure. Down +here all was so strange.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_129">[129]</div> +<p>“A villain,” she murmured to herself with +a low laugh. “The final touch to a gorgeous +setting.”</p> +<p>To quiet her shaky nerves she gave herself +more intensively to completion of her task.</p> +<p>“There is no danger,” she assured herself +again. “Grandfather says there is absolutely +none—and he has spent days on end on the +ocean’s floor.”</p> +<p>She recalled his very words: “Oh, yes, there +are sharks in these waters—but they won’t +harm you. If they should get curious and come +too close—poke them with your stick! I’ve done +that more than once.”</p> +<p>Scarcely had she gone over these reassuring +words when something startled her, anew. A +dark shadow appeared suddenly at her right. +She took one look, then laughed. “It’s only +a fish,” she thought.</p> +<p>Brushing away two tiny fish that had +managed to get themselves stuck to her canvas, +she began giving her work its final +touches.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_130">[130]</div> +<p>For ten full minutes she worked feverishly. +“My time is almost up,” she was thinking. +“They will be giving me the signal. Then up +I’ll go. But I do so want—”</p> +<p>Her thoughts were suddenly arrested. What +was that? She had felt the motion of water +against her body. “As if something passed—fast!” +she thought with a little shudder. +Turning slowly about, she peered through the +window of her brass helmet.</p> +<p>“Nothing,” she whispered. “Nothing but three +long, gray fish, over there. But what of that? +I—I’ll give my signal rope a pull,” she told +herself. “Just a minute more and I’ll do it.”</p> +<p>The minute stretched to two, three, four. +And then it happened. One of the long, gray +fish flashed like a streak of doom, straight +for the hand that held the paint brush. Missing +by inches, it collided with the easel, knocked +it to the sea floor and shot away in sudden +flight.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_131">[131]</div> +<p>The fish could not have been more frightened +than the girl. Suddenly she recalled wild +tales told by the natives about the vicious barracuda—“Tiger +of the Sea.” ... A woman had +dabbled a finger in the water—and one of these +fish snapped it off.... Swimmers had lost +toes.... She felt paralyzed with fear.</p> +<p>Then, like an act in some strange drama, +a pair of dangling legs appeared between her +and the gray terrors. The legs were followed +swiftly by a body, a brass helmeted head and +two hands, holding a sharp-pointed spear.</p> +<p>The spear shot out!</p> +<p>The gray terrors, like arrows from a bow, +flashed out of sight. It seemed to Doris that +no creatures ever had moved so rapidly beneath +the surface of the sea.</p> +<p>She watched the “apparition” in a helmet—which +she knew to be Johnny—take up her +easel and set it in position. She noted, +vaguely, that the picture had landed right side +up and was not harmed. Then Johnny turned +and held out his hand.</p> +<p>She expected to be taken straight up to the +ship’s deck. Instead, he led her a distance of +a hundred feet along the bottom. Then they +came to an abrupt halt, and Johnny pointed +straight down.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_132">[132]</div> +<p>She looked—and involuntarily stepped back. +They were standing on the very brink of a +yawning, watery precipice. Far down as one +could see was only blue-black depth. It was +an awe-inspiring sight.</p> +<p>As if to add to her amazement, she saw—perhaps +a hundred feet down—some large, +dark hulk. It was dim and indistinct as a +shadow, yet very real, as it moved slowly +along the cliff, to disappear in the blue-black +of the apparently bottomless ocean.</p> +<p>This had not been part of the planned show, +she knew at once from her guide’s actions. He +moved his arm, pointing excitedly.</p> +<p>A moment longer they stood there, looking +down. Then came the signal to come up. The +picture and paints were attached to the easel, +and a cord drew them up. All Doris had to +do was to give a little spring, and up, up, she +rose, to the glorious sunshine of a tropical day.</p> +<p>A quarter of an hour later, she and Johnny +were seated on the deck, laughing at one another +and scarcely knowing why.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_133">[133]</div> +<p>Dave and the professor had gone ashore to +study tropical bird life, so after the evening +meal, Johnny and Doris sat on deck watching +the play of phosphorescent creatures beneath +the surface of the sea.</p> +<p>“This,” said Johnny, “is my day off. Tonight +I sleep. Tomorrow old Samatan and I +are going for a sail in a large dugout, to visit +some coral reefs.”</p> +<p>Doris smoothed back her thick, golden hair, +fixed her bright blue eyes on him, and said: +“Why?”</p> +<p>“We need him for a friend,” Johnny replied, +quietly. “If <i>he</i> is with us—all the native crew +will be, too. He’s a leader.”</p> +<p>“You talk,” said Doris, “as if there were to +be war!”</p> +<p>“Who knows?” Johnny did not laugh. “Perhaps +there will be, but not just yet. There +are spies with us now!”</p> +<p>“How do you know?” She leaned forward in +her chair.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_134">[134]</div> +<p>“That man I caught on board the other +night, was a spy. Look!” He held up the exquisitely +wrought knife. “Do you think a native +would have such a gem of a knife? Not +a chance!</p> +<p>“Then—there’s the green arrow to prove he’s +a spy!” Johnny went on. “One of the messages +I spelled out by using their code read: ‘<i>Board +them. Discover all you can.</i>’”</p> +<p>“But why?” said Doris. “We’re not secret +agents.”</p> +<p>“That’s what <i>they don’t know</i>! We are Americans—and +they don’t want us around.”</p> +<p>“Know what?” Johnny continued, “I believe +that big thing that glides through the water—the +thing we saw today—is a submarine!”</p> +<p>“It can’t be!”</p> +<p>“Why not?”</p> +<p>“Well, if it is—it must be an American submarine!”</p> +<p>Johnny looked at her for a moment in silence.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_135">[135]</div> +<p>“It’s not an American submarine,” he said, +after a time. “I’ve seen them, and this one’s +the wrong shape. It’s some spy submarine, +looking over the bottom of the sea and getting +information for the next war. I shouldn’t be +surprised if a large part of that war were +fought right in this Caribbean Sea!</p> +<p>“What’s more,”—he rose to his feet—“I’ll +bet a dollar that the thing that took Samatan +and me for a ride in the steel ball, <i>was that +same submarine</i>!”</p> +<p>“Trouble with you,” Doris laughed merrily, +“is too much imagination.”</p> +<p>“You just wait and see,” Johnny replied with +a smile.</p> +<p>The sound of oars at this moment, announced +the return of Dave and the professor +from their day’s explorations.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_136">[136]</div> +<h2 id="c12"><span class="small">CHAPTER XII</span> +<br />JOHNNY’S DAY OFF</h2> +<p>Next morning Johnny and old Samatan +sailed away toward the smiling face of +the rising sun.</p> +<p>“This is a grand dugout you’ve got!” +Johnny enthused.</p> +<p>Smiling, Samatan pulled a line, giving the +boat full sail. She tilted sharply. Boy and man +settled back against the pull of the sail and +sped along before the wind.</p> +<p>Johnny’s eyes took in the whole of the trim +little craft, and he smiled, contentedly.</p> +<p>It was indeed a great little dugout. Not so +small, either. Fully twenty feet long and six +feet wide, it had been hewn from a solid mahogany +log. The boy tried to estimate the number +of days of hard, careful work that would +have required, but gave it up.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_137">[137]</div> +<p>The inside surface was polished to the last +degree, and the seats were braided, cocoanut +fibre. On the prow, carved in the most perfect +manner, was the wooden image of a +seagull.</p> +<p>All unknown to Johnny, Samatan was keeping +an eye on him. His keen old mind read +the boy’s thought like a book. One lover of a +sailboat recognizes another, and since his tenth +birthday, Johnny had been an ardent sailboat +enthusiast. At that age he had rigged up a +square sail for a rowboat and had known +many happy hours on the water. The fact that +he had once capsized and barely escaped +drowning, had not in the least dampened his +ardor.</p> +<p>“We go coral reef. Catchem turtles for stew,” +Samatan said at last.</p> +<p>“How do you catch them?” Johnny asked.</p> +<p>“Samatan show you.”</p> +<p>After that there was silence.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_138">[138]</div> +<p>It became evident that Samatan was an expert +with a sail. The breeze picked up and the +sea became choppy, but the smiling old man, +eyes squinting, lay back at ease. Pulling first +at one rope, then another, he held the small +craft on her course.</p> +<p>Johnny laughed right out loud when at last +the old man took off his soft, loose shoes, +gripped the ropes with his toes and began +steering with his feet.</p> +<p>Two delightful hours passed. Then the dugout +slid up on a sandy shore.</p> +<p>When the boat had been pulled up, Samatan’s +eyes scanned the sandy beach. Suddenly +he went racing away and, with the silence and +speed of a great cat, stole up on an unsuspecting +turtle, basking in the sand. A quick leap—and +the turtle lay on its back, a prisoner.</p> +<p>“Food,” said the old man. “Much food from +the sea. But,” he added quietly, “we take only +what we need.”</p> +<p>When all the turtles needed had been stowed +away in the boat, they went for a walk on +the beach. They made a strange picture, this +bright-faced American boy and the old, brown +native whose face was wrinkled by many tropical +suns.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_139">[139]</div> +<p>Seldom had Johnny spent a more interesting +or exciting morning. They hung a heavy +cord over a rocky ledge to snare a sea-crab, +turned over a Hawk’s-bill turtle, whose shell +was worth eight dollars a pound, and chased +a monkey up a cocoanut tree.</p> +<p>They had wandered for two hours and were +far from the boat when, for no apparent reason, +Samatan uttered a low exclamation. Then +he faced squarely toward the ridge, which at +this place rose some twenty feet above the +beach.</p> +<p>“Huh!” he grunted. “We see!”</p> +<p>He dashed away at surprising speed, up the +hill. Tripping over vines and blundering into a +bramble bush, Johnny followed.</p> +<p>When at last he caught up with the agile +old man, Samatan was standing motionless, +looking off at the sea. For a full minute, lips +parted, eyes staring, they stood there in +silence.</p> +<p>For—stealing up on them like an enemy in +the night, a terrific storm was racing in from +the sea. It took but one word from Samatan’s +lips to complete the terror of the prospect.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_140">[140]</div> +<p>“Hurricane!” he said, gutterally.</p> +<p>“We must run for the boat!” Johnny sprang +down from the rock.</p> +<p>“Not go now. Too late!” Samatan did not +move. Instead, he stood looking along the +ridge, first this way, then that.</p> +<p>“The <i>Sea Nymph</i>!” Johnny broke out again. +“She will be lost!”</p> +<p>“Not get lost,” Samatan said, slowly. “Good +crew. Harbor not far.” Once again his eyes +swept the ridge.</p> +<p>“Come,” he said at last. “This way. We go +fast.” Even as he spoke, a gust of wind sweeping +in from the sea, all but threw the boy off +his rocky perch.</p> +<p>For ten minutes or more the two of them +fought their way along the ridge. At last +the native paused. “Here,” he said, “is most +high. Trees. Must climb these—quick! Waves +go all over coral reef!”</p> +<p>“Al—all right.” The rising gale blew Johnny’s +words down his throat. Seizing the low +branches of a large tree, he prepared to climb.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_141">[141]</div> +<p>“No! That bad tree! No good!” said Samatan. +“This one.”</p> +<p>Into Johnny’s mind at that moment came +the words of the professor: “When I am in a +strange land I do what a native will do—go +where he goes. If he says ‘No go’—I stay.”</p> +<p>So, without further questioning, the boy began +to climb Samatan’s tree.</p> +<p>The tree was short and sturdy. Soon they +were perched like crows on two limbs close +together. And in silence they watched the onrushing +storm. The sky was black. It was like +night. Scarcely could the boy see his companion. +Trembling with excitement, he decided to +force his thoughts from the impending hurricane.</p> +<p>“Samatan,” he said, “there was something +about our steel ball you did not like.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” came the instant reply. “Professor—he +is good man. Very good. But one thing must +not do. He must not!”</p> +<p>“He is going to tell me,” Johnny thought, +with quickening pulse.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_142">[142]</div> +<p>But at that moment there came such a roar +as would drown the strongest voice, and onto +the beach came the rush of a great sea. Something +like a tidal wave had struck the narrow +reef.</p> +<p>“I must hang on,” the boy thought. The next +instant he was engulfed in stinging salt water. +The sea had swept over the land.</p> +<p>Though Johnny felt that he was being swallowed +by the sea, it was in reality only the +froth and foam of the monster wave that +reached him. One instant he was gasping for +breath, the next, he was looking down on a +madly whirling world.</p> +<p>The thought that struck him first, with the +force of a blow, was—“the tree I meant to +climb is gone! Swept away by the sea!”</p> +<p>It was true. The tree, rotten at the roots, +had vanished. Samatan had saved his life, and +a new sense of respect for the aged native +swept over Johnny. With it came the conviction +that whatever it was the old native +wanted from the professor, it must be right +for him to have it. And something seemed to +assure Johnny that he would hear the story +without asking.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_143">[143]</div> +<p>But at that moment, to talk at all was impossible. +The shrieking of the wind, the cracking +of branches, the roar of thunder and the +mad tumult of the sea, were completely deafening. +Johnny wondered how long it would +last? Would greater waves come? Would he and +Samatan at last be swept into the sea? To all +these questions he found no answer.</p> +<p>In an effort to forget the terror of the situation +he made himself think once more of +the great steel ball and his adventures beneath +the sea....</p> +<p>In the meantime his companions on the <i>Sea +Nymph</i> were witnessing a feat such as even +the gray-haired captain never had seen +equaled. Watching the storm, yet fearing for +the safety of Johnny and Samatan and hoping +against hope that they might return, they on +the yacht had delayed lifting anchor.</p> +<p>When at last they headed toward the narrow +entrance of a natural harbor, the wind tore +their sails to ribbons, while waves, mountain-high, +swept them toward a rocky wall.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_144">[144]</div> +<p>In despair, the captain trusted the fate of +his ship to the native crew. Nor did he trust +in vain. With a few yards of sail at their command +the natives, in the midst of dashing +spray, clung to spar and masthead, turning the +graceful craft this way and that. Then—at +precisely the right instant—they seemed to lift +her from the sea and send her shooting through +a channel so narrow it seemed the paint would +be scraped from her two sides at once. They +sent her gliding smoothly to safety, in a harbor +as calm as a millpond.</p> +<p>“Bravo!” shouted the captain.</p> +<p>“Glorious!” the professor cried. “Never saw +such sailing! Those men deserve all praise!”</p> +<p>Six long hours the storm roared on, and for +six endless hours Johnny clung to his tree. +Though the sea, like some menacing monster, +appeared to thrust out long, white arms to +grasp him, he remained safely with Samatan, +in the tree top. At last, sweeping high overhead, +the storm-clouds raced away—to leave +a kindly, golden moon looking down on the +boy and the old man.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_145">[145]</div> +<p>“Come,” said Samatan, climbing gingerly +down from his perch. “We go back.”</p> +<p>“Back to what?” Johnny’s lips framed the +words he dared not speak.</p> +<p>Their trail back over the moonlit beach was +strange beyond belief. They climbed over a +huge old palm tree, lying on the ground, +stumbled on a giant, loggerhead turtle, killed +in the storm, and slipped on jellyfish left high +on the ridge.</p> +<p>As they rounded a bend in the beach, a large +object loomed before them, white and ghostly +in the night.</p> +<p>“Boat,” said Samatan.</p> +<p>“Lifeboat,” the boy amended as they came +closer.</p> +<p>Examining it closely he read the words: +“S. S. Vulture”. Bashed in at the prow, the +boat lay empty, upside down. What was its +story? Had the Vulture been wrecked? Had +part of her crew put to sea in this boat, only +to perish?</p> +<p>With a shudder, Johnny pushed on behind +his tireless guide.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_146">[146]</div> +<p>“Our boat must be gone,” he ventured at +last.</p> +<p>Samatan made no reply.</p> +<p>More fallen palms, tangled sea moss, +jellyfish, a dead crocodile, a mile of sand, and +then—Johnny rubbed his eyes. He opened +them to look again.</p> +<p>“Our boat!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Yes,” Samatan said.</p> +<p>It was true. The boat was safe. Piled with +seaweed and half-buried in sand, it remained +where they had left it.</p> +<p>A brief examination redoubled the boy’s admiration +for the aged native. The dugout had +been chained to a stout, palm stump. Even +the sail was lashed beneath the seat. Samatan +had taken all these precautions before there +was any sign of a storm. Wise old Samatan!</p> +<p>In awed silence Johnny helped to clear the +sand and seaweed away.</p> +<p>“Now we go,” said Samatan, preparing to +launch the boat.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_147">[147]</div> +<p>If Johnny had admired Samatan’s sailing before, +his admiration was doubled now. Up—up—up +they glided, until they seemed ready +to touch the stars, then down—down, far into +the trough of a wave.</p> +<p>“Samatan.” Johnny spoke without thinking. +“Why do you hate our steel ball?”</p> +<p>“Hate? Ball?” Samatan struggled for the +right word. “Good man, professor. But must +not steal natives’ gold!”</p> +<p>“Gold?” Johnny ejaculated. “I don’t understand.”</p> +<p>The tale the old man told, then, out there +on the racing sea, was fantastic indeed. Yet +Johnny doubted never a word of it....</p> +<p>The islands now belonging to Samatan’s native +people once had been a French colony. +The French had made slaves of the natives, +and had brought in many more slaves. Then +the slaves revolted and drove all the Frenchmen +from the islands.</p> +<p>“After that—<i>our</i> land!” Samatan declared +proudly. “Long time republic. Long time +everybody happy. Then,” his voice dropped, +“how you say it—came bad man. Very hard +man. Very cruel. Make people work too hard. +Want gold. All gold. By and by want kill that +man, my people.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_148">[148]</div> +<p>“This bad man see strange men come—many +men.” Samatan continued. “They put +gold in chest—much gold—and dump in sea.</p> +<p>“Now,” Samatan sighed, “bad man dead. +Gold lost. Never find that gold, my people. +Belong my people—that gold! Find gold—my +people pay debts. Very happy. But now,” he +frowned, “Professor, he hunt gold with steel +ball. Wanna keep that gold, you think, that +professor?”</p> +<p>“Oh, no! No!” Johnny laughed. “The professor +is not looking for treasure! Only +strange fishes, all sorts of odd creatures that +live beneath the sea.”</p> +<p>“Not wanna find gold?” The old man was +plainly puzzled.</p> +<p>“Oh, sure—I s’pose he’d <i>like</i> to find it,” +Johnny laughed. “And—we’ll really try to—now +that we know about it. But if we <i>do</i> find +it, you may be sure it will all be for your +people—to the last doubloon!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_149">[149]</div> +<p>“Good boy, Johnny.” The old man smiled +broadly. “Good man, Professor. All good. +Everybody!”</p> +<p>“I see a light,” said Johnny. “That must be +Kennedy’s place.”</p> +<p>“Right, Kennedy.” said Samatan. “By and +by we come that place.”</p> +<p>“That,” said Johnny, “will be swell!” Then +his brow wrinkled. Where, he wondered, was +the <i>Sea Nymph</i>? Did it make harbor safely? +He sighed as he reflected that soon he would +know the answer—for better or worse!</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_150">[150]</div> +<h2 id="c13"><span class="small">CHAPTER XIII</span> +<br />THE GREEN ARROW TRAIL</h2> +<p>While Johnny was going through his +wild adventure, Doris and Dave were +not without their own exciting moments. Of +course while the storm lasted, the professor’s +party remained inside the <i>Sea Nymph’s</i> cabin. +As soon as it abated they immediately went +ashore.</p> +<p>Troubled as they were at thought of +Johnny’s possible fate, there was for the moment +nothing they could do. The seas were still +running high. Dave and the professor went for +a tramp in the jungle, while Doris followed the +trail to the Kennedy home.</p> +<p>Mildred appeared greatly worried when told +of the journey Johnny and Samatan had +undertaken.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_151">[151]</div> +<p>“But why did Johnny go?” she asked in +surprise.</p> +<p>“Oh,” replied Doris, “he had a notion that +Samatan was angry about something. He said +we might need the help of Samatan and his +men.”</p> +<p>“How?” Mildred asked.</p> +<p>“That’s it—how?” Doris laughed uneasily. +“He thinks there are many European spies +around here!”</p> +<p>“Well—there are!” Mildred nodded her head +vigorously.</p> +<p>“You, too?” exclaimed Doris. “But anyhow, +Johnny thinks the spies believe <i>we</i> are looking +for <i>them</i>—and that they’d do something terrible +to us.”</p> +<p>“I shouldn’t wonder,” said Mildred.</p> +<p>“How comforting you are!” Doris smiled ruefully. +“Just when I want to feel quiet in my +mind! You aren’t helping a bit!”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Mildred, “how can I? There +were those men singing in some foreign +tongue. They just vanished! And there’s that +mysterious, blinking green arrow.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_152">[152]</div> +<p>“Two of them,” Doris corrected. “One on +land and one on sea—like Paul Revere!” she +chuckled mischievously.</p> +<p>“But of course,” she added more seriously, +“there was the man who came on board our +boat, sneaking around, and went into a huddle +with the octopus! That would have been +funny had it not been so terrible. He had a +knife that Johnny says no native would carry. +But I don’t see—”</p> +<p>“There are a lot of things we don’t see!” +Mildred broke in. “For instance—who was that +whisperer who was always breaking in when +Dave and Johnny in the steel ball were being +dragged against the rocks?”</p> +<p>“He might have been a thousand miles +away. Radio’s like that,” Doris said, doubtfully.</p> +<p>“Yes-and he might not!” Mildred exclaimed. +“He appeared to know too much +for that.”</p> +<p>“One more thing,” Doris laughed. “Johnny +thinks there is a submarine—a foreign one—in +these waters!—He thinks we saw it, and +that <i>it</i> was the thing that dragged the steel +ball, that day!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_153">[153]</div> +<p>“I shouldn’t wonder a bit,” said Mildred.</p> +<p>“Oh, bother your ‘shouldn’t wonder’!” exclaimed +Doris, good naturedly. “Come on, let’s +take a walk. It will be good for our nerves!</p> +<p>“But I’ll tell you one thing,” she added as +they started off. “If I believed <i>half</i> the things +you do—I’d be getting out of here!”</p> +<p>“It’s not so easy,” Mildred replied, soberly. +“Grandfather is a dear. It would be a shame +to leave him alone. Of course he says he’s +going to send me back to college in the fall, +and I suppose I shall go. College means so +much these days.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” Doris agreed, “I’m sure it does.”</p> +<p>“But he can’t do that unless we get our motorboat +up from the bottom,” said Mildred. +“And even after that—there are the spies.”</p> +<p>“Spies! Always spies!” Doris laughed. “Let’s +forget them!”</p> +<p>“O.K. Let’s do,” the other girl agreed.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_154">[154]</div> +<p>The trail they had chosen led to the beach +where the mysterious male chorus had disappeared. +Arrived at the beach where the waves +were now racing, they stood for a time in silence. +When a piece of driftwood—the broken +side of a native dugout—came floating in, +Mildred turned away with a shudder, her +thoughts on Johnny.</p> +<p>Having wandered into the jungle a short distance +she stopped suddenly to stare at the +trunk of a tree. There, standing out against +the smooth gray bark, was a small, green +arrow!</p> +<p>“Doris!” she called. “Come here!”</p> +<p>“Green arrow!” Doris exclaimed, reaching +Mildred’s side. “What do you suppose it +means?” she whispered.</p> +<p>“It’s a trail marker!” said Mildred. “There +should be others. Come on!”</p> +<p>There were others! Some were quite far up +on the trees, while others were low. They continued +the search for ten minutes, steadily +finding others.</p> +<p>Doris was frightened and did not wish to +go on. At every turn of the trail she expected +to come upon a freshly made clearing, a cluster +of tents and a whole army of strange warriors.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_155">[155]</div> +<p>But Mildred thought of but one thing.... +Perhaps they were on the road to a real discovery.</p> +<p>As they went deeper and deeper into the +jungle, the green arrows became scarcer, and +harder to find. The trail grew steeper and +narrower. Thorny bushes tore at them, and +once a great snake crossed their path. Unused +to all this, Doris was distinctly uneasy. But +Mildred’s face fairly shone.</p> +<p>However, when they came to a place where +the trail split into three narrower ones and, +search as they might, they could not find a +single arrow, Mildred, too, was ready to +give up.</p> +<p>“Come on,” said Doris. “It will soon be +dark, and I must get back to the boat. They +may want to put out, in search of Johnny and +Samatan.”</p> +<p>“You’re right,” said Mildred. “We must be +starting back. But—I’m coming back here +again!”</p> +<p>“Alone?” Doris stared.</p> +<p>“Perhaps.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_156">[156]</div> +<p>The journey back to the Kennedy home was +made in silence.</p> +<p>By the time the girls had eaten their evening +meal it was completely dark. Wandering +down to the beach they listened to the diminishing +roar of the sea, and watched its +strange blackness against the moon’s golden +light.</p> +<p>“There’s a light!” Doris exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir! And it blinks!” Mildred became +excited.</p> +<p>After watching for a full minute, she suddenly +threw her arms around her companion +to exclaim: “Oh! Doris! That’s Johnny! It is—it +surely is! Sometimes he blinks his light from +the ship that way—one, two, three—one, two, +three! Oh, it’s wonderful! Aren’t you glad?”</p> +<p>“Of course I’m glad,” said Doris. “But +then—men always do manage to get back one +way or another, don’t they?”</p> +<p>“Oh! Oh, no!” Mildred caught her words. +“They don’t—nowhere near ‘always’.”</p> +<p>Just then Dave and the professor came down +to the beach.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_157">[157]</div> +<p>“We think it’s Johnny and Samatan,” Doris +said quietly.</p> +<p>“Good!” said the professor. “That lifts a +load from my shoulders!” He turned to speak +to Mildred, but she had gone.</p> +<p>Ten minutes later, natives caught the dugout +and hauled it far up on the sandy beach.</p> +<p>After receiving the congratulations of his +shipmates, Johnny began flashing his light into +the surrounding darkness, searching for +Mildred. At last the beam came to rest on a +charming picture—a girl with reddish-golden +hair, wearing a dress of golden material, tied +at the waist with a broad red sash. All this—against +the greenish blackness of a jungle +night.</p> +<p>“Why!” Johnny exclaimed, as he caught her +hand. “The little beach-comber has turned into +a golden fairy!”</p> +<p>“P—please, Johnny!” Mildred stuttered confusedly, +“I—I just wanted to—celebrate your +return from the d—dead!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_158">[158]</div> +<p>“Nonsense!” exclaimed Johnny. “I always +come back. But it was mighty nice of you, +anyhow, and I won’t forget!”</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>He was ready for a good, long sleep. His task +of watching was given over for the night to +Samatan’s son, who was a member of the native +crew. So Johnny did not return to the +boat, but was shown to the guest room of the +Kennedy cottage where, under a mosquito-bar +canopy, with the tropical moon shining +through the bamboo lattice, he slept the sleep +of the just.</p> +<p>By the next afternoon both he and Mildred +were ready for further adventure. Together, +they tramped into the jungle.</p> +<p>“If we find more green arrows,” said +Mildred, fairly tingling with excitement, +“where do you think the trail will lead us?”</p> +<p>“Hard to tell,” said Johnny. “It might take +us right to the spot from which the green arrow +of light shines out in the night.”</p> +<p>“And then?” she whispered.</p> +<p>“No can tell!” laughed Johnny. “We’ll answer +that when the time comes.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_159">[159]</div> +<p>But would they? And what would the answer be?</p> +<p>After hours of searching they decided that, +whatever the answer might be, the finding of +it must be postponed for another day. Beyond +the spot where the trail forked, they could not +proceed.</p> +<p>“There’s something queer about these signs +of the green arrow,” said Johnny, dropping +onto a cushion of moss in the shade. “There +is something we don’t know about it all.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” replied the girl, “and we’re going to +find out what it is!”</p> +<p>“But not today,” said Johnny. “The shadows +already are growing long.”</p> +<p>By the time they reached the beach from +which the singing band had so mysteriously +disappeared, the abrupt, tropical darkness had +fallen. For a moment they stood looking at +the dark, mysterious sea. Suddenly Mildred +gripped Johnny’s arm and whispered:</p> +<p>“Look! The green arrow!”</p> +<p>True enough. Seeming but a stone’s throw +from shore, the green arrow appeared to rise +from the sea.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_160">[160]</div> +<p>“It <i>must</i> be on a submarine!” Mildred whispered.</p> +<p>“Wait! They’re signalling.” Johnny dragged +pencil and paper from his pocket and began +scribbling numbers. This continued for two +minutes. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, +the green arrow vanished.</p> +<p>“Gone!” the girl exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Come on,” said Johnny. “I want to see what +they were saying.”</p> +<p>Leading the way to a dark hollow where +their light could not be seen, he asked her to +hold the electric torch while he deciphered the +message.</p> +<p>“‘<i>We will strike</i>,’” he read aloud, “‘<i>at the +earliest possible moment!</i>’</p> +<p>“That’s all.” He stood up. “Spies strike in +the dark—and without warning. I wonder +what we have ahead of us!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_161">[161]</div> +<h2 id="c14"><span class="small">CHAPTER XIV</span> +<br />AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY</h2> +<p>That night as he tramped the deck on +his silent watch, Johnny found his mind +crowded with disturbing thoughts of the significant +message the green arrow had flashed +over the sea.</p> +<p>“<i>We will strike</i>—” his mind went over the +words again and again, “<i>at the earliest possible +moment!</i>” Where would they strike? And who +was to receive the blow? His shipmates on +the <i>Sea Nymph</i>? Old Kennedy and his daughter? +Or someone he never had seen?</p> +<p>“I may never know,” he told himself. “Spies +strike in the dark.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_162">[162]</div> +<p>Johnny had read that during the World War, +spies had swum to the propellers of outgoing +ships laden with men and supplies. Hours later, +with the ship far out at sea, a bomb had exploded, +blowing away the propeller and leaving +the ship helpless. He knew, too, that spies had +placed incendiary bombs in the holds of ships, +and dumped quantities of acid in the very bottom +of a vessel, to eat its way through the +steel.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he thought, “and even now—in times +of supposed peace—they are boring in!”</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>The <i>Sea Nymph</i> left the river and put out +to sea while Johnny slept. When he awoke in +mid-afternoon, they were anchored in their old +position.</p> +<p>“How would you like to make a solo journey +in the steel ball?” Dave asked when he came +on deck.</p> +<p>“Go—go down alone?” Johnny asked, feeling +a bit strange. “That—oh, that’s O.K., I guess.”</p> +<p>“I was down this morning,” said Dave, “and +my eyes are tired. There are some pictures I’d +like to have. Conditions below are all right, +and there’s an off-shore breeze. We’ve two +lines out to windward, which should hold her +steady.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_163">[163]</div> +<p>“What the professor would like,” he went on +in a businesslike tone, “is to have you go down, +slowly, along that submerged cliff, stopping +every ten feet to take a photo floodlight picture. +That will give us a continued story of +plant and animal life, down to perhaps two +thousand feet.”</p> +<p>“Al—all right,” Johnny agreed. “I can do +that.” But for the life of him he could not +still his heart’s wild beating. He seemed to be +hearing a voice say:</p> +<p>“<i>We will strike—at the earliest possible moment!</i>”</p> +<p>He forced his lips to repeat: “Two thousand +feet, you say?”</p> +<p>“About that. Better get ready at once. The +wind may pick up.”</p> +<p>“Yes, it may stri—pick up,” Johnny agreed +a little absently.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_164">[164]</div> +<p>Twenty minutes later, inside the steel ball +and busy taking pictures of the wall as he +stopped each ten feet, he had all but banished +thoughts of the green arrow from his mind.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>But someone else really was seeing green arrows—and +plenty of them. That was the granddaughter +of old Mr. Kennedy—the man who +for twenty years had defied encroachments of +foreign interests in this happy little republic. +For Mildred had gone on a hunting expedition +all her own. She was hunting spies. She had +started once more over the green arrow trail +and, strangely enough, almost instantly had +discovered the secret of its markings.</p> +<p>During their months together she and her +grandfather had spent hours on end, tramping +the jungle, and he had taught her to know all +the usual signs. The trail of some great snake +in the sand—the uprooted earth, where little +wild pigs had been—the marks of a monkey’s +claws on the green sprouts of a tree—all had +a meaning for her.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_165">[165]</div> +<p>Knowing these usual signs, she had looked +for unusual ones—and had found them. On +reaching the spot where they had lost the trail +on two other occasions, she noted that the next +to the last arrow was low down, while the <i>last</i>, +was some ten feet higher. So—to reach this last +marking place—someone had been obliged to +climb! In doing this, bits of bark had been +broken off, leaving fresh, light-brown spots on +the tree trunks.</p> +<p>“Now I shall look for broken bark—not arrows,” +she told herself.</p> +<p>She had not gone forward a hundred paces +on the right hand fork of the trail, when she +let out a cry of surprise and joy. Not only +had she discovered broken bark, but up, perhaps +thirty feet on a tree, she saw a green +arrow.</p> +<p>“One, two, three,” she whispered. “Perhaps +that’s the way it goes. One arrow down low, +one a little higher, and a third, well up on +the trunk!”</p> +<p>She discovered at once that this was just +the way the markings ran. So immediately she +took up the trail again.</p> +<p>The distance from the shore of the island +to the summit of the tallest hill, was considerable. +The trail, such as it was, made only +by natives and wild animals, wound round and +round—up and up.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_166">[166]</div> +<p>The girl followed this trail for more than an +hour. Then she sat down on a fallen mahogany +tree to think. She was far from all her +friends. Should she go farther? She, too, recalled +the last message of the green arrow of +light—about “striking”!</p> +<p>“Perhaps I can stop them,” she whispered +stoutly, as she rose to her feet. “At least I +can try!”</p> +<p>Though her knees trembled, she did not +falter, but marched straight on. For was she +not the granddaughter of old Kennedy—hero +of a hundred battles?</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_167">[167]</div> +<h2 id="c15"><span class="small">CHAPTER XV</span> +<br />ADRIFT IN THE DEPTHS</h2> +<p>All went well with Johnny on his undersea +photographing trip until he had +reached the fifteen-hundred-foot level. Then he +called in his loud-speaker to Doris, who was +directing the controls:</p> +<p>“Sorry, Doris. On that last, ten-foot shot, +I made a double exposure. Hike me up a bit, +will you, please?”</p> +<p>“O.K. Johnny,” was the answer. To the men +at the hoist she said: “Up ten feet.”</p> +<p>“Up ten feet,” the men repeated.</p> +<p>Johnny waited for the rise. His floodlight +was on. Some strange creatures with amazing +teeth, were passing, and he snapped his +camera.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_168">[168]</div> +<p>“Interesting place, down here,” he thought. +“Hate to stay down here all night, though.” +His leg felt cramped. He tried to shift to a +new position, but at last gave it up. “No sort +of place for an active person,” he sighed. +“Wonder why I don’t go up a bit—I’d like to +get this over!”</p> +<p>“Hey, up there!” he called into the phone. +“What’s wrong?”</p> +<p>“Sorry, Johnny,” Doris drawled. “Something’s +wrong with the hoist. It won’t work. +But they’ll get it fixed pretty soon, I guess!”</p> +<p>Something wrong with the hoist! Johnny experienced +a cold chill. Suppose someone had +been tampering with that hoist—had done +something really serious? What then? You +couldn’t take hold of a fifteen-hundred-foot +steel cable with a two-ton ball at the end of +it, and haul it by hand like a fishline. +Johnny realized all too keenly that his life +depended on that hoist.</p> +<p>“It could have been tampered with,” he told +himself. This was all too true. While the boat +had been in the harbor it had not been any +too carefully guarded—and Johnny had been +off duty one whole night! “Might cost me +dearly—that night!” he thought.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_169">[169]</div> +<p>To ease his mind he began watching the passing +show—fire-glowing shrimps—flying snails, +and a host of other strange creatures. He +snapped his camera again and again.</p> +<p>“I say, up there,” he exclaimed impatiently, +“what’s keeping us?”</p> +<p>“Sorry, Johnny. It’s the hoist. We—”</p> +<p>Doris stopped suddenly. Johnny felt a +shock—as if his cable had been struck by something +hard and heavy. At the same instant the +ball began drifting away from the submerged +wall of rock.</p> +<p>“Hey, there!” he called, in genuine alarm, +“what’s up now?”</p> +<p>There came no answer. He called again, and +yet again. No answer. His heart began pounding +madly.</p> +<p>“This won’t do,” he told himself, savagely. +“Probably nothing—just nothing at all! It—”</p> +<p>Then came a second, jolting shock, and—ceasing +to move in a circle—the ball began +drifting quite rapidly away from the rock and +out to sea.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_170">[170]</div> +<p>Johnny knew at once what had happened. +One of the anchor cables holding the boat in +place had been struck and broken.</p> +<p>“By that submarine!” he burst out savagely. +Then as if it were right out there in the water +in front of him, he seemed to see the +green arrow of light, and to read:</p> +<p>“<i>We will strike</i>—at the earliest possible +moment!”</p> +<p>“They have struck!” he thought. “The +second cable has been broken by the added +strain—and we are drifting out to sea!”</p> +<p>He tried to think what this meant. The +hoist was broken, so he could not be pulled +up. Out to sea some three or four miles were +coral reefs and beneath these, no doubt, a +rocky wall. Moving at its present rate and +striking that wall, the steel ball might crack!</p> +<p>Only one cheery thought came to him at +this moment. If the boat’s small motor was +strong enough to counteract the force of wind +and current, he could be held in one position +until the hoist was repaired.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_171">[171]</div> +<p>Even as he thought this, Doris came back +on the air: “Awfully sorry, Johnny, but something +has severed an anchor cable—and then +the other one broke! The hoist won’t work. +We’d have the motor going, but that, too, +seems to have gone wrong. Keep your chin up, +Johnny. We’ll get you up out of there before +it’s—too late.” Her voice faltered at the end.</p> +<p>Johnny found it impossible to utter a single +word in reply.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>In the meantime, Mildred still was following +the signs of the green arrow trail.</p> +<p>As she advanced, the trail grew steeper and +rougher. She followed it between dark pines, +where the shadows were like night, along a narrow +ledge to an abrupt descent into a low +ravine.</p> +<p>More than once, as if contemplating retreat, +she turned and looked back. But always, she +went on.</p> +<p>At last, weary from climbing, she dropped +down on a flat rock in the shade and dabbed +at her damp cheeks with a white, red-bordered +handkerchief.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_172">[172]</div> +<p>As she rested she turned her head quite suddenly +to listen. All the usual sounds of the +tropical wilderness—the call of monkeys, the +shrill squawks of parrots, the piercing screams +of jungle birds—these all were familiar to her. +But did she hear some strange sound—perhaps +a human call? Listening intently for a moment +longer, she rose and journeyed on.</p> +<p>Some ten minutes later she paused once +more. She had come to a spot where the trail +led round a towering cliff. In an involuntary +gesture of dismay her hand unclasped and she +dropped her handkerchief. It fell unnoticed +among some large leaves—a bit of red and +white amid the eternal gray and green of the +jungle.</p> +<p>Summoning all her courage, Mildred proceeded +along the rocky trail. Like a soldier +she tramped straight on until, with a startled +cry, she stopped abruptly, on rounding a sharp +turn in the path.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_173">[173]</div> +<p>There, directly ahead, was the ancient castle +that might once have been a fortress or a +prison. Standing before its door and staring +intently at her, was a man with a rifle. +Turning to flee, in complete panic—she found +herself facing another man, similarly armed.</p> +<p>A man in front of her, and one in back—a +towering cliff above—a precipice below. She +was trapped.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>Darkness came to the Kennedy cottage, but +no Mildred returned to join its worried owner +at his evening meal.</p> +<p>He ate alone and in silence. In silence he +smoked his pipe on the veranda until midnight. +Then he went to the house of Pean, his head +native.</p> +<p>“Pean,” he said, “she has not returned. At +three o’clock, unless I come again, tell Camean +to make <i>wanga</i> with the drums.”</p> +<p>“Make <i>wanga</i> at three. Can do,” said Pean.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_174">[174]</div> +<h2 id="c16"><span class="small">CHAPTER XVI</span> +<br />VOICE OF DRUMS</h2> +<p>Johnny, meanwhile, was having a very +bad hour all by himself. Still drifting a +thousand feet beneath the surface of the sea, +he awaited his deliverance—a deliverance he +knew might never come.</p> +<p>Knowing little about the rate at which the +powerless boat might be drifting, he made a +guess; it should be about two miles per hour. +“That gives me less than two hours,” he told +himself, grimly.</p> +<p>After noting the time, he decided to take a +few more pictures—just in case.</p> +<p>Never before, he imagined, had such opportunity +for taking undersea shots been given +any living being. Moving at fairly steady +speed, he passed through countless schools of +deep-sea creatures, and never before had +Johnny looked upon such fantastic sights.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_175">[175]</div> +<p>“Like things in a nightmare,” he told himself. +“All heads—practically no bodies at all—some +long and slim as a leadpencil, with noses half +the length of their bodies. If ever I get out +of this I probably shall be famous. But—”</p> +<p>What was this? His eyes stared at the compass. +It appeared to have gone wrong, or else—</p> +<p>“Hey!” he called into the loud speaker, +“what’s up? Are we going north by east—”</p> +<p>“North by east is right. Oh, Johnny!” +Doris apologized, “I didn’t let you know, but +they have the sails up, and we’re traveling in +a circle. We think that will keep you off the +rocks. The chart is not very clear, but we can +cruise around for hours if—if it is necessary.”</p> +<p>“Hours!” Johnny groaned.</p> +<p>“Well, anyway—” Doris stopped, abruptly. +Then:</p> +<p>“Johnny! You’re saved! The mate just told +me the hoist will be working again any minute +now!”</p> +<p>“Hooray!” Johnny shouted. “Hooray! We live +again! Boy-oh-boy!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_176">[176]</div> +<p>“Yes, Johnny,”—the girl’s voice went husky, +“it will be good to see you!”</p> +<p>Ten minutes later, Johnny was going up. +Slowly, surely, the dense darkness passed. The +blue black of early dawn was changing places +with glorious hues, and then came the light +of a rapidly passing day.</p> +<p>As he tumbled from the steel ball Johnny +placed a box of plates carefully on the deck.</p> +<p>“There you are!” he exclaimed. “Pictures I’ll +really live to see!”</p> +<p>The pictures were superb—all the professor +could have dreamed of, and more. “These, +alone, will add greatly to the world’s riches,” +he said, placing a trembling hand on Johnny’s +shoulder.</p> +<p>“And when you show them,” Johnny +grinned, “tell your audience they were taken +by a ship’s watch, will you?”</p> +<p>“I take it,” said the professor with a laugh, +“that you think you’d like to keep your feet +on the ground, for a while!”</p> +<p>“Absolutely,” Johnny agreed. “And in more +ways than one!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_177">[177]</div> +<p>Johnny went back to his old task of walking +the deck that night. There would be no +more tampering with hoists and motors if he +knew anything about it—and he surely would +know if it happened in the night.</p> +<p>For some unknown reason, this night was +not like others that had passed. There seemed +to be a spirit of unrest in the air.</p> +<p>Doris, too, felt it. Enveloped in a midnight-blue +gown, she wandered out on deck.</p> +<p>“It’s ridiculous,” she exclaimed. “A grand +night to sleep, but my eyes just will not stay +closed!”</p> +<p>“There are ghosts in the air,” said Johnny. +“I have felt them and almost heard their +wings—or do ghosts have wings? There goes +one now!”</p> +<p>Doris jumped as some swift, darting thing +shot past her head.</p> +<p>“Oh, no!” Johnny laughed. “Only a bat. +You’d think—”</p> +<p>He stopped suddenly to stare at the distant +hills. The next instant, with binoculars held +to his eyes with one hand and a pencil in the +other, he was recording a message.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_178">[178]</div> +<p>“The green arrow speaks again,” he murmured +softly. “Oh—Oh—now it’s gone! Snapped right +off as if a fuse had blown.</p> +<p>“Oh, well—perhaps it will flash again, later.” +He stuffed his notebook into his pocket.</p> +<p>“We’ll be leaving here soon,” Doris said +quietly. “In two or three days, I think. +Grandfather received a wireless today. And +how I’m going to hate it.” She sighed. “This,” +she spread her arms wide, “this has been +grand! Moonlight on gorgeous waters! Strange +tropical shores. Adventure!”</p> +<p>“And bats!” said Johnny, as one shot past +his ear.</p> +<p>“But even they are different,” she insisted, +smiling.</p> +<p>“Yes, I know,” Johnny agreed. “To go to +strange places, to see new things, to find excitement, +thrills, mystery and adventure—that’s +life!”</p> +<p>“Is it for most people?” she whispered.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_179">[179]</div> +<p>“Perhaps not,” he replied thoughtfully. +“Most people like to be safe and comfortable, +to go to the same places, to see the same +people, do the same things. That’s their privilege, +of course.”</p> +<p>“That’s right, Johnny. And now—goodnight.”</p> +<p>“Goodnight,” he replied, softly.</p> +<p>Halfway between midnight and morning, +when even the bats were less active, and the +whole tropical world seemed asleep, Johnny +was amazed to hear the sudden roll of a native +drum, from the island. The very sound +of it at that eerie hour, set his blood racing +and his skin prickling.</p> +<p>“Drums!” he ejaculated. “What can that +mean?”</p> +<p>For a time the weird beats were a +steady roll. Then they began breaking up; +two beats, a pause—one beat—pause, three +beats—pause....</p> +<p>“Like a message,” he whispered. Then with +a start, he recalled the message of the green +arrow—undeciphered in his pocket!</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_180">[180]</div> +<p>Dragging it out, he began decoding it, growing +more and more wildly excited every +minute.</p> +<p>“H—E—” he worked it out “L—P! <i>HELP!</i>”</p> +<p>“Someone is in trouble,” he whispered. “But +there are only three letters left. Rapidly he +studied these out.</p> +<p>“<i>Help Mil</i>—”</p> +<p>A cold sweat broke out on his brow. He recalled +Mildred’s determination to follow that +green arrow trail. Had she followed it too far? +Had the spies captured her? Was she a prisoner? +And had she attempted to get off a message +on the green arrow, only to be interrupted? +Or perhaps even—</p> +<p>“I might be wrong,” he told himself. But he +dared not hope.</p> +<p>Again there were the drums. This time a +drum close at hand, on shore, thundered out. +Then, from far away in the jungle came an +answer, another, and yet another. It was +ghostly, romantic, thrilling. Johnny’s hair +fairly stood on end. But what did it mean?</p> +<p>He caught the sound of soft footfalls. +Instantly he was on his feet, all attention.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_181">[181]</div> +<p>“Oh!” he exclaimed softly. “It is you, +Samatan.”</p> +<p>“Yes. The drums! They speak!” murmured +Samatan. “Something—it is very bad.” His +voice was low-pitched, tense.</p> +<p>“What do they say?” Johnny asked in a +whisper.</p> +<p>“That something very wrong. This what +drums say!” The old man’s voice was vibrant +with emotion.</p> +<p>“They say Kennedy has had <i>bad</i> done him! +Natives must come. All who love Kennedy +must come. And all natives love Kennedy! All +night they must come. In morning they +march—perhaps they fight! Much fight for +Kennedy! Maybe much die!” His voice +trailed off.</p> +<p>“Yes,” Johnny choked. “Something terrible +has happened. We must go, Samatan!”</p> +<p>“Just when it little light, in my dugout, we +go, Johnny,” said Samatan, quietly.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_182">[182]</div> +<p>Settling back in a steamer chair the old man +closed his eyes and appeared to sleep. While +from the shore came again and again the +vibrant rumble of the drums—tum—tum—tum—tum—on +and on into the night that was +marching toward the dawn of another day.</p> +<p>Tense with forebodings of what might be +in store, Johnny waited—impatient and grimly +expectant.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_183">[183]</div> +<h2 id="c17"><span class="small">CHAPTER XVII</span> +<br />MARCHING ON THE CASTLE</h2> +<p>Old Samatan was not asleep. He was only +thinking. After a time he opened his +eyes wide, to stare at the dark shore where +drums still beat out their message.</p> +<p>“Make <i>wanga</i>,” he said to Johnny. “Always +when trouble, my people make <i>wanga</i>—make +prayer to Voodoo gods. Gods help good natives +win victories.”</p> +<p>“Great!” exclaimed Johnny. “Then we shall +win!”</p> +<p>“Yes. Win,” the old man said, softly.</p> +<p>Then Johnny told Samatan of the green arrow +trail that Mildred had said she would follow. +He told of the suddenly broken message +he had picked up from the green arrow.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_184">[184]</div> +<p>Thinking deeply, Samatan declared they +should go very soon—at least a full hour before dawn.</p> +<p>“Shall Dave go, too?” Johnny asked.</p> +<p>“Plenty men on shore,” the old man waved +an arm. “We go—tell Kennedy. That all. Dave? +Better Dave stay.”</p> +<p>Half an hour later, Johnny wakened Dave +to tell him what was going on. At first Dave +was determined to go with them and have a +hand in the affair. But after sober thought he +decided it best to stay with the ship.</p> +<p>“The ship may be needed before this thing +is over,” he said.</p> +<p>“Yes, it may,” Johnny agreed.</p> +<p>So, guided by native fires on the beach, +Johnny and Samatan headed for shore.</p> +<p>Johnny was steeped in gloom as he pictured +the golden-haired little beach-comber, the +prisoner of unscrupulous spies.</p> +<p>“Nothing could be worse,” he groaned. “I +should have warned her never to go, alone!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_185">[185]</div> +<p>But the moment their boat touched shore, +Johnny’s mood changed quickly for the better. +Seldom had he witnessed a more inspiring +sight. In two short hours, more than a hundred, +dark-faced, half-clad, natives had gathered +at the call of their beloved Kennedy.</p> +<p>They were squatting around the fires, roasting +small fish or strips of peccary meat and +gulping cups of bitter, black coffee.</p> +<p>“They will go for a whole day on this,” +Kennedy told him, “and still be with us when +the day is done.”</p> +<p>When Johnny told of the green arrow’s message +and the trail Mildred had sworn to follow, +the old man’s brow wrinkled.</p> +<p>“I suspected something of the sort,” he +rumbled, “but this is worse than I figured. +There may be a number of those spies—all +well armed. And we—” he went on, with a +touch of sadness, “these people here are not +warlike. We have two heavy rifles of ancient +make, half a dozen light, hunting rifles, two +or three shotguns, and a hundred machetes. +But these natives—” There was a rumble of +admiration in his voice. “You should see what +these men can do with those two-foot blades +of theirs! There are two grindstones out +behind the house—and they haven’t stopped +turning for hours!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_186">[186]</div> +<p>Johnny felt a tingle course through his veins +as the old man finished. It was, he thought, +like the days of old, like something he had +read in a book. They were to storm an ancient +castle to rescue a fair lady!</p> +<p>There were men among that loyal throng +who knew every trail leading to the old castle.</p> +<p>“The men say it will take about three hours +to reach the place,” said Kennedy, when just +after dawn, they prepared to break camp. “We +shall have to march in silence, as sound travels +far. I only hope,” his brow wrinkled, “that +these spies did not guess the meaning of those +drums. I hated that. But there was no other +way to get the men together, nor,” he added +in an undertone, “to put the real, fighting spirit +into them. For more than a hundred years, +the beating of these drums has meant battle!”</p> +<p>“And how they respond to it!” Johnny +enthused.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_187">[187]</div> +<p>“Yes, Johnny,” the old man rumbled. “These +are faithful, loyal people. Think what it would +mean to have these islands taken over by a +foreign power—cannon and bombing planes everywhere. +If war came, think how these beautiful +islands would be torn to bits by bursting +bombs! Just think Johnny! Try to imagine it!”</p> +<p>For a moment after that, there was silence. +Kennedy’s voice was husky when he spoke +again. “Johnny, my boy—I’ve come to like you +a heap. Promise me, Johnny, that if anything +should happen to me this day, you’ll see the +girl safely back to her own land where she +rightly belongs.”</p> +<p>“Nothing can happen to you,” Johnny declared, +stoutly. “You could handle four of +those cowards, single-handed.”</p> +<p>“Promise me,” the old man insisted.</p> +<p>“I promise.” Johnny put out a hand that +was at once caught in a grip of steel.</p> +<p>And so they marched away into the golden, +tropical dawn.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>Those on the <i>Sea Nymph</i> were on deck early +that morning. Coffee and muffins were served +in the forward cabin. After Dave told what +was happening on land, a silence fell over the +party. Active, happy, always friendly, Mildred +had found her way into all their hearts.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_188">[188]</div> +<p>“Dave,” said the professor at last, breaking +the silence, “since that fine old man Kennedy +is in a good way to lose his granddaughter—”</p> +<p>“Oh, but he won’t!” Doris broke in. “Not +with Johnny Thompson on the trail of those +spies. I had a letter last week from an old +friend, Marjory Morrison. She’s known our +Johnny a long time, and she says he’s a +marvel!”</p> +<p>“No doubt,” said the professor. “But spies, +my dear!”</p> +<p>“Spies are cowards,” Doris exclaimed. “Just +the same—I’d like doing something for those +Kennedys!”</p> +<p>“Just what I was about to suggest,” the professor +beamed. “Manifestly, we can’t sail this +ship up that mountain but we can go in search +of their sunken schooner!”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes!” Doris sprang up. “Let’s do that! +Anything to help!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_189">[189]</div> +<p>“I know the spot, within a mile,” said Dave. +“Kennedy showed me on the map. It’s not +over three miles from here.”</p> +<p>“Good! We shall weigh anchor at once,” exclaimed +the professor. “In the steel ball, Dave, +you should be able to locate the schooner in +a very short time.”</p> +<p>“And then?” asked Dave.</p> +<p>“One problem at a time,” smiled the professor, +who during his long life had solved +many a problem.</p> +<p>Fifteen minutes more and they were away.</p> +<p>“Do you think we shall be able to find their +sunken schooner?” Doris asked, as she and +Dave stood in the prow, looking at the hills. +“That depends,” said Dave. “Just now, another +problem interests me more.”</p> +<p>“And that?”</p> +<p>“Whether that girl, who seems the very +spirit of the island, ever will sail that schooner +again.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_190">[190]</div> +<p>“Never doubt it,” said Doris. But in spite +of her high hopes, she herself was in grave +doubt.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>Johnny was never to forget that silent +march up the tropical island trail. Before him +glided a native guide. Behind him, taking each +steep ascent with the quiet, steady breathing +of a boy, came the giant Kennedy.</p> +<p>After these marched a silent throng. Their +faces and machetes shining in the morning +sun, they were a band of simple, honest natives, +in whose midst Kennedy long had stood +out as king.</p> +<p>A monkey chattered from a tree, but no +rifle was aimed at him. A parrot screamed, +and over in a narrow ravine, a drove of wild +pigs scampered unmolested over the dry moss +of the jungle.</p> +<p>“We’re seeking bigger game, today,” the boy +thought, grimly.</p> +<p>Finally they arrived at a point not far distant +from the turn, beyond which lay the castle. +Kennedy held up a hand, and the men +gathered silently about him. In low tones he +gave them final instructions.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_191">[191]</div> +<p>There were, he said, three trails to the +ancient castle. They would divide into three +groups. John Puleet, a stalwart native, with +his followers, would circle the hill to the right. +Teratella, another burly leader of the islanders, +would go to the left with his men. Time +would be given them to take their positions. +When this had been done, a “wild parrot” +would scream from the right, another from the +left—and they would all move forward.</p> +<p>“We’ll take the trail straight ahead, with old +Samatan,” he said to Johnny. “It’s the toughest +of them all, if we are attacked.”</p> +<p>“O.K.” Johnny murmured, gripping his light +hunting rifle.</p> +<p>Silently, one by one, a hundred men crept +into the brush. After that, save for the chirp +of some small bird and the faint sound of a +dashing stream, all was silent. It was, Johnny +thought, the dead silence that comes before a +storm.</p> +<p>Stooping suddenly, he picked something +from among the leaves by the trail. It was +Mildred’s lost handkerchief. He held it out for +Kennedy to see, but neither said a word.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_192">[192]</div> +<h2 id="c18"><span class="small">CHAPTER XVIII</span> +<br />THE BATTLE</h2> +<p>Meanwhile, Dave and Doris were +warming to the search for the small +trading boat that had meant so much to +Kennedy and Mildred.</p> +<p>Having found the approximate location +where the little supply schooner sank, Dave +climbed into the steel ball and was lowered +into the deep. For an hour after that, with +the steel ball always close to the bottom, they +sailed about in ever widening circles. From +time to time Doris called on the radio:</p> +<p>“See anything?”</p> +<p>“Yes, a whole flotilla of jellyfish,” would +come Dave’s laughing answer. Or—“there’s an +ancient wreck off to the right—goes back to +pirate days, I’m sure. But I don’t catch the +faintest gleam of a white schooner.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_193">[193]</div> +<p>When at last he returned to the surface and +was released from his spherical prison, he complained +of eye-strain.</p> +<p>“Let me go down with you,” Doris pleaded. +“I’ll be eyes for you. Together we can’t fail to +find the schooner. We just must get it +located!”</p> +<p>“What do you say, professor?” Dave turned +to his superior.</p> +<p>“What’s the bottom like?”</p> +<p>“All sand.”</p> +<p>“No rocks?”</p> +<p>“Not a one.”</p> +<p>“O.K., my girl—in you go.” The professor +waved a hand, and in they went.</p> +<p>To the imaginative Doris, this fairyland of +waving seaweed, darting fish, and drifting +jellyfish was most entertaining, but she never +forgot their real mission. “Dave!” she exclaimed +more than once. “I see something!” +A moment of excitement, and then—“No—it’s +nothing but a bit of coral, after all.”</p> +<p>Then, of a sudden, a whisper reached her +ear:</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_194">[194]</div> +<p>“One eighty—eighty-two and a half—eighty +four—”</p> +<p>“Dave! He’s back! The whisperer is back!” +Doris spoke before she thought.</p> +<p>“Why! Hello there, mermaid!” came in +words startlingly distinct.</p> +<p>Doris and Dave remained silent. Who could +this be? Where was he? On land, or in the sea? +Or on it?</p> +<p>For a time they heard that whispering of +numbers. Then it faded, as abruptly as it had +come.</p> +<p>As they drifted, they quietly discussed the +strange whispering, but came to no logical +conclusions. Neither did they sight any white +schooner, resting on the bottom.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>For a long time, there on the side of the +hill beneath the tropical sun, Kennedy’s fighting +band watched and waited.</p> +<p>“The signal will come,” Johnny thought with +a thrill. “The signal to move! And then—</p> +<p>“There! There it is now!” he exclaimed in a +hoarse whisper.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_195">[195]</div> +<p>There had come the distant scream of a wild +parrot. One more scream.</p> +<p>“Now!” said Kennedy. “Let’s go!”</p> +<p>“We go,” old Samatan said, simply.</p> +<p>Johnny would have taken the lead, but the +old man pushed him back. Cautiously they +moved straight ahead.</p> +<p>Johnny sighed in relief as they reached the +end of a narrow pass. That, he thought, would +have been a bad place to be caught. His sense +of relief was short-lived, however, for out from +the wide door of the ancient castle, burst a +man with a rifle. Instantly Johnny recognized +him as the man whom he had saved from the +grip of the octopus.</p> +<p>“Come on!” he exclaimed, as the man leveled +his rifle. A shot cracked out, and a bullet +burned Johnny’s cheek. Next instant the man +dodged and the rifle clattered from his nerveless +hands. There had been a flash of steel, +as Samatan had thrown his machete. Its point +was buried in the door, just back of the spot +where the man’s head had been.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_196">[196]</div> +<p>Dropping his rifle, Johnny executed a flying +tackle, bringing the man to the ground, with +a thud. Instantly two powerful natives pinned +him to the earth.</p> +<p>“Come on!” Kennedy shouted, as the door +stood open a crack. “We’re going in!” His +powerful shoulder forced the door so suddenly +that a man on the other side of it was instantly +floored. A second man—huge, fat, beast-like—lurched +at Kennedy with a knife. He was felled +with one blow of the old man’s bare fist.</p> +<p>“Now!” Kennedy roared, towering over the +prostrate pair. “Tell me where my granddaughter +is or I’ll tear you limb from limb!”</p> +<p>“Girl?” the fat man stammered in broken +English. “Gone—gone.”</p> +<p>“Where to?” Kennedy touched the man none +too gently with his foot. But the halting reply +could not be understood.</p> +<p>“Please, sir,” came in a youthful voice from +the corner, “if I may, I will tell you.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_197">[197]</div> +<p>“But first I must tell you,” said the youth +who, until now, had not been noticed, “that +I am not one of these!” He nodded at the men +on the floor. “I was coming to America to join +my father, and they compelled me to accompany +them here.”</p> +<p>“Is that true?” Kennedy demanded of the +stout man on the floor. The man nodded.</p> +<p>“All right. Tell us.” Kennedy’s voice softened +a little as he spoke to the youth. +“Where is my granddaughter?”</p> +<p>“They took her to the submarine,” said the +boy.</p> +<p>“The submarine?” Kennedy stared.</p> +<p>“Yes. There is a submarine,” said the boy. +“They are making a survey of the sea-bottom +around these islands! Don’t you see,” the boy +seemed anxious to please, “in time of war, they +shall place depth bombs and steel nets—and +establish submarine bases!”</p> +<p>“I see,” Kennedy replied in a low tone that +was not good to hear. “Very nice, I should +say. We seem to have stumbled into the +situation at about the right time!</p> +<p>“But my granddaughter.” His voice rose. +“She is on this submarine?”</p> +<p>“Yes sir.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_198">[198]</div> +<p>“Then,” roared Kennedy, “we shall find the +submarine! And if we do not—or if my granddaughter +has been harmed—!” He laid his +machete, sheath and all, across the stout man’s +throat. And the stout man turned a sickish, +yellow-green. And not without reason.</p> +<p>“Get up!” commanded Kennedy. The two +men stood up. “I’ll guard them,” he said to +Johnny. “You and the natives search this place. +Gather up every scrap of paper to be found. +There should be ample evidence of this espionage. +And—there is not a moment to be lost!”</p> +<p>“Not a second,” said Johnny.</p> +<p>A few hours later, with three other prisoners +taken by the second band of natives attempting +to flee from the rear of the castle, they +were back at the Kennedy cottage. At once +Johnny and Samatan prepared to leave for the +<i>Sea Nymph</i>.</p> +<p>“We’ll do all in our power to find that +submarine,” Johnny assured Kennedy, as he +and Samatan pushed off....</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_199">[199]</div> +<p>But Johnny could not have known, of course +that the submarine had been found....</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>For a long time Doris had watched the sea +bottom as the steel ball moved about in a circle +that ever grew wider. So absorbed had she +become that her ear-phones were forgotten. +When suddenly a voice broke in on her +thoughts, she jumped involuntarily.</p> +<p>“Hey, there! I say, there! Are you there?” +came in a hoarse, anxious voice. “Listen! It’s +important! Listen! Are you there?”</p> +<p>Doris adjusted her microphone, then answered, +as her heart missed a beat. “Yes, we +are here. Why?”</p> +<p>“Listen!” came in gutteral tones. “We are on +the bottom, and we can’t get up!”</p> +<p>“Try the Australian crawl,” Doris laughed +into her speaker. These people were good at +kidding, whoever they were.</p> +<p>“Listen!” came in a man’s voice, hoarse and +insistent—even pleading. “We are in a small +submarine. We are on bottom and our pumps +have failed!”</p> +<p>“Submarine!” Doris whispered, as she and +Dave gaped at each other.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_200">[200]</div> +<p>“We are about two hundred feet down,” the +voice went on, desperately. “Something’s gone +wrong with our pumps, and we can’t blow out +the water in our compartments. You gotta +help us. We have a friend of yours here and +she’ll tell you I’m speaking the truth!”</p> +<p>Doris and Dave were startled beyond description +when they heard Mildred Kennedy’s +voice coming over the air.</p> +<p>“Listen, Doris,” the girl’s voice was tense +with emotion. “I’m down here in this submarine. +I blundered onto that ancient castle +up on the ridge, and there were spies there. +They wouldn’t let me go because they—they +said I’d tell what I saw. And that—that’s +true. I would!</p> +<p>“But these boys on the submarine—they—” +her voice broke a little, “they’re not really +spies! They’re just boys in the navy of their +country, doing what they’re ordered to do. +They’ve been decent to me, and they’d have +put me back on land if they’d dared. So—so +you can’t let them die like this. You just can’t, +Doris! Besides, I—” she choked, and could not +finish.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_201">[201]</div> +<p>“We won’t let them die and most of all—we +won’t let <i>you</i> die!” declared Dave, who had +been absorbing every word. “Just you keep +cool and stand by. We—we’ll have our whole +navy here in no time. Just you see!”</p> +<p>“Th—thanks, Dave ... Mil—Mildred, signing +off,” came in a wee small voice.</p> +<p>“Gee, she’s a game kid,” whispered Dave to +Doris. Then into his microphone:</p> +<p>“Put that man on again,” he said.</p> +<p>“Here, here I am,” came the hoarse voice +from the submarine.</p> +<p>“Here’s what we’ll do,” Dave said, shortly.</p> +<p>“We have a fairly powerful wireless on our +ship. We’ll get in touch with the United States +Naval Station at Port au Prince at once, and +report the situation. They will send assistance—even +though you’re over here to help +your spies! Now—give me your location—in +code.”</p> +<p>“O.K.” the foreigner answered, humbly, +“Here it is. 2 - 4 - 7, 9 - 3 - 6, 1 - 6 - 3 - 9, 3 - +7 - 9.—That is all. Will you please repeat?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_202">[202]</div> +<p>Dave read the numbers he had written, and +the sub commander checked them again.</p> +<p>“Don’t be nervous or frightened about the +girl, here,” he said. “We have oxygen enough +for thirty-six hours, at least.”</p> +<p>“I hate to think what would happen to +you if any harm comes to her,” Dave answered, +grimly. “We’re signing off and going +up.”</p> +<p>To get the Port au Prince naval station was +only a matter of moments, after the steel ball +was back on board.</p> +<p>“There’s a submarine and a coastguard +cutter at Santiago de Cuba,” was the answer. +“We will get in touch with them at once, and +you can be sure of fast action!”</p> +<p>After a short wait came the encouraging +news: “Submarine and cutter proceeding to +the rescue under forced draft!”</p> +<p>Fifteen minutes later the <i>Sea Nymph</i> was in +motion. Dave, having obtained the grounded +submarine’s location, would sail to the spot +and stand by to aid, if possible.</p> +<p>“Perhaps we’ll go down in the steel ball and +reach them before that sub arrives,” he said.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_203">[203]</div> +<p>“But Dave!” Doris exclaimed. “What can +one submarine do for another on the bottom? +Surely they can’t raise it!”</p> +<p>“No—o, they couldn’t. Nor could we. But +then,” Dave sighed, “there must be some way. +We’ll have to leave that to the navy, I guess.”</p> +<p>Two hours later the steel ball rested on the +sandy bottom some two hundred feet down, +and within twenty feet of the submarine’s +dark bulk. As Dave and Doris stared out of +their window, they saw a face in a port of the +submarine. It was Mildred, and she was waving +at them.</p> +<p>“Only twenty feet,” Doris murmured, “and +yet for the moment there’s nothing we can do! +How strange—and how—how terrible!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_204">[204]</div> +<h2 id="c19"><span class="small">CHAPTER XIX</span> +<br />ON THE BOTTOM</h2> +<p>Night was falling on the waters of the +blue Caribbean when Johnny and Samatan +finally reached the <i>Sea Nymph</i>, and were +told of the sub’s predicament. For a full +hour after darkness fell, Doris and Johnny sat +on the after deck. But they spoke hardly a +word. They were thinking of a brave, American +girl, two hundred feet below surface, in a +foreign submarine.</p> +<p>“Johnny!” Doris gripped the boy’s arm suddenly. +“Is that a light—or is it a star?” She +pointed out to sea.</p> +<p>“A light! No, it’s a star. No! No! It <i>is</i> a +light! See! It blinks!”</p> +<p>“Dave!” Doris called. “The navy is coming!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_205">[205]</div> +<p>And so it was. As they stood there waiting, +the light grew brighter and brighter. Then a +long, sleek form, dark as the night, slid alongside +the <i>Sea Nymph</i>.</p> +<p>“Ahoy there!” a voice called.</p> +<p>“Ahoy!” Dave echoed. “We’ll send our small +boat for you at once”</p> +<p>Ten minutes later, the young commander of +the American submarine was on board.</p> +<p>“What’s the situation?” he demanded, +briskly.</p> +<p>“They’re down here, about two hundred +feet,” said Dave. “Their pumps won’t work +and they can’t get up!”</p> +<p>“That’s it, eh? It sounds bad.” The young +officer’s voice was somber. “I suppose you +assumed we had a diver on board, and—until +three days ago—we did have. But now he’s in +the hospital with a raging fever!”</p> +<p>“Might I inquire,” the professor asked, slowly, +“what a diver would do?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_206">[206]</div> +<p>“Certainly,” said the officer. “We have three +hundred feet of hose. Somewhere on the side +of their sub, if it’s anything like ours, is a +short piece of pipe with a thread on it, to +which our hose could be attached. After that—when +they have opened an inner valve—we +can pump in enough air to float them. But +without a diver—”</p> +<p>“I,” said the professor, “am a diver. Have +you the equipment?”</p> +<p>“You?” The young officer looked at the aged +professor admiringly, but without making a +reply. All eyes were focused on the dignified +old man.</p> +<p>It was Dave who best understood the +situation.</p> +<p>He knew the professor had made many a trip +to the bottom of the sea in a diving outfit, +but that had been years before. Now he was +a frail, old man. “The pressure at two hundred +feet is terrific,” the boy thought. “And his +doctor has warned him—even about going +down in the ball! He must not go.”</p> +<p>Still Dave remained silent. He was thinking +hard—thinking how even in life’s twilight this +splendid old man displayed a glorious courage.</p> +<p>“I must go down.” It was the professor’s +voice. “It is my duty. Those are young people +with life before them. They must not be +allowed to perish.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_207">[207]</div> +<p>Still the young officer did not speak.</p> +<p>“All right, Professor,” Dave said huskily. +“But first—give me an hour! I will try something. +If I fail—then your turn comes!”</p> +<p>Slowly the professor grasped Dave’s hand.</p> +<p>In a few precise words, Dave outlined his +plans. Then he leaped toward the steel ball. +With all possible speed he was bolted in, lifted +over the rail, and lowered slowly into the +ominous, black waters.</p> +<p>Never before had he been down at night. +The spectacle that met his eyes as he sank, +was surprising almost beyond belief. The whole +sub-sea world seemed on fire. It was like being +out in a moonless night, surrounded by billions +of fireflies.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_208">[208]</div> +<p>As his eyes became accustomed to the +bizarre scene he was able to distinguish individual +specimens from among the myriads of +luminous creatures that crowded the waters. +Here, like excursion boats all aglow, a score of +jellyfish floated past. There, a throng of +shrimp stood out in dark outline against the +background light, suddenly darting frantically +away as some great fish with bright spots +along his sides gave chase. Casting off balls +of illumination, the shrimp were lost to sight +in a flare of light.</p> +<p>But there was little time for such thoughts, +as this underseas mission concerned the lives +of nine young people. A sudden storm would +spell their doom....</p> +<p>Dave had asked for an hour, and he must +save the professor from taking so great a risk, +if possible. No less experienced person—not +even Dave—could safely descend to such depth +in a diving suit....</p> +<p>Suddenly he saw the light from the sub’s +porthole, just before him.</p> +<p>“Steady!” he said into the mike. “Doris—tell +them to stop lowering, and swing me to the +right about twelve feet.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_209">[209]</div> +<p>Instantly they obeyed his orders and for a +time, he studied the sub. Then he saw what +he had sought—the threaded end of pipe for +letting in the air. Once again he had his position +changed. Now he was close to the bit of +threaded pipe. But the dangling air hose from +the sub on the surface, still was several feet +away. More orders.... More moments.... and +every second counted.... At last the steel ball +rested on bottom. The sub was six feet +distant, and now the hose dangled directly before +his window.</p> +<p>What Dave hoped to do was to seize the +screwcap at the end of the hose with the +pincherlike affairs attached to the outside of +the steel ball. Then, by twisting his pinchers +round and round, he would try to attach the +hose to the sunken submarine.</p> +<p>Could he do it? His heart sank as the force +of a wave far above, drew the steel ball off +the bottom for a moment.</p> +<p>“I—I’ve got to do it! I’ve <i>got</i> to,” he +muttered.</p> +<p>Once again his hand was on the lever. It rose, +slowly, as the hose before him swayed.</p> +<p>“Back a foot,” he called to Doris.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_210">[210]</div> +<p>Back he slid. “Now,” he breathed. There was +the hose and screwcap, and there were his +pinchers. Swiftly, skillfully, he manipulated +the lever, and, by a fortunate providence, +caught the cap just as he should.</p> +<p>“Now,” he breathed.</p> +<p>But again there came that sickening lift and +swing—and one crash of his window against the +sub, would spell his doom.</p> +<p>Now he was on bottom again. A move—a +second move—then a third—and he was back +in position. Now—</p> +<p>“No,” he breathed, desperately, “not this +time.”</p> +<p>For again came that sickening lift.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>In the meantime a coastguard cutter had +anchored close to the <i>Sea Nymph</i> and an officer +came aboard.</p> +<p>“I am Major Braden, of the Marines,” he +said, bowing to Doris, Johnny and the professor. +“I’m on extraordinary duty just now—watching +these waters. I used to be in command +when we occupied these islands for +military purposes, and I understand you’ve located +a foreign submarine.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_211">[211]</div> +<p>“And six spies, now held captive on land,” +Johnny added. “We took enough maps and +reports from their hangout, to start a secret +service all our own!”</p> +<p>“Good! Great! A real service to your country, +young man!”</p> +<p>“But the sub’s still on bottom,” Johnny added, +“and we’re trying to raise her now. They—they’ve +got one of our good friends on board!”</p> +<p>“I’m sure you’ll succeed,” exclaimed the +Major. “And when that sub breaks water—we’ll +have three, six-inch guns trained on her. +She’ll not escape,” he concluded a little grimly.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="gs">* * * * * * * *</span></p><p>For a full quarter-hour, Dave struggled in +vain to bring the threaded pipe on the sub, +and the screw-cap at the end of the hose, into +exact position. At one time he actually turned +the cap, and felt it catch. But it would not +turn further.</p> +<p>“Started wrong,” he murmured. “Threads +are crossed. Must take it off at once.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_212">[212]</div> +<p>Ten seconds of struggle and he was back +where he had started. His heart sank. Should +he give up? He closed his eyes to think—and +saw the professor’s frail, kindly face before +him.</p> +<p>“No!” he groaned. “I won’t give up!”</p> +<p>Slowly, carefully, he maneuvered himself +into position. The lever rose slowly, and glided +forward. He gave it a turn. It stuck. Deftly +he twirled his lever; ’round and ’round it spun.</p> +<p>“Now!” he breathed. He gave the lever an +experimental tug. <i>The cap held firm.</i></p> +<p>“Try it!” he fairly shouted into his mike.</p> +<p>Ten seconds later, the hose hanging loosely +before his window, twisted and writhed like +a snake. It was filling with air. He watched +the spot where it joined the pipe on the sub. +Should bubbles appear, all his work was lost. +Ten seconds, he watched. No bubbles. Twenty—thirty—forty +seconds. Still no bubbles.</p> +<p>“Hooray!” he shouted hoarsely. “Hooray! +We win!”</p> +<p>And from the sunken sub came an answer:</p> +<p>“It is good! We are getting air!”</p> +<p>After having his steel ball moved to a safe +distance, Dave settled down to watch. Had +they won? Would the sub really rise?</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_213">[213]</div> +<p>Fifteen long, tense, minutes passed. Then, +like a giant fish which had been asleep on the +bottom, the dark bulk before him began to +stir.</p> +<p>“Thank God!” Dave exclaimed, fervently.</p> +<p>A moment more and the sub rose slowly toward +the surface. And, like a cattleboy driving +the cows home at eventide, Dave followed in +his steel ball.</p> +<p>True to the Major’s promise, powerful lights +and capable-looking guns were trained on the +sub when, with a rush, she broke surface. But +there was no need for that. The members of +the youthful crew were too glad to escape +death on the bottom of the sea, to offer any +resistance to capture.</p> +<p>The first person to appear above the sub’s +deck was Mildred. Awaiting her in the Tub +was Johnny, and how he greeted her was a +sight to behold. Some time later they sat +on the porch of the Kennedy home—Dave, +Doris, Johnny and Mildred.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_214">[214]</div> +<p>“Well, Johnny,” said Dave, “our work beneath +the very deep sea is done. We’ll collect +a few specimens—turtles, crawfish, and bright, +tropical fish close to the surface—then hoist +anchor for New York!”</p> +<p>“New York? Where is that?” Johnny asked +dreamily.</p> +<p>“It’s an ancient Dutch colony,” Dave chuckled.</p> +<p>“Oh, yes! I remember!” said Johnny. “I +think I’ll not go there, if you folks don’t +mind.” He hesitated.</p> +<p>“Mildred tells me she located their motorboat +while she was in the submarine. Major +Braden thinks we’ve done a brave deed or two +and put him in a good way to clear up this +spy business—so he’s going to repay us by +helping bring the schooner to the surface. But +of course,” he drawled, “there will be a lot of +work to be done after that.”</p> +<p>“And you’d like to stay and help” said Dave. +“I don’t blame you. I’d like to stay myself. +Well, old son, all I can say is—go ahead and +God bless you!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_215">[215]</div> +<p>“I’ll be back in the States in two or three +months, I guess,” said Johnny. “I—I’m sort of +thinking of going to college. College is wonderful +for just anybody!</p> +<p>“I hope you come back to these waters with +the steel ball,” observed Johnny, after a time. +“I’d like to have one good, long, look for old +Samatan’s treasure chest.”</p> +<p>“Oh! That?” said Dave, with a short laugh. +“Probably just a myth. But if we ever get +back—you shall have a try at it, I promise +you!”</p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2><span class="small">Transcriber’s Note</span></h2> +<ul><li>Copyright notice provided as in the original printed text—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.</li> +<li>Obvious typographical errors were corrected without comment.</li> +<li>Dialect and non-standard spellings were not changed.</li> +</ul> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44824 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/44824-h/images/cover.jpg b/44824-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b45469b --- /dev/null +++ b/44824-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/44824-h/images/icover.jpg b/44824-h/images/icover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0c16cda --- /dev/null +++ b/44824-h/images/icover.jpg diff --git a/44824-h/images/logo.jpg b/44824-h/images/logo.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0e55429 --- /dev/null +++ b/44824-h/images/logo.jpg |
