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diff --git a/77346-0.txt b/77346-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8212a1b --- /dev/null +++ b/77346-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,983 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77346 *** + + + + +[Illustration: “I'll brain the first man o’ youse that tries to get +out o’ this fire hole!”] + + + Strange Waters + + By Kingsbury Scott + + Old Tim Donahue demonstrates that all + sea-fighters aren't in the Navy. + + +There was nothing much in common between Captain Daniel Sullivan and +little Tim Donahue. In the fifty or more years they had been on +earth together their life currents had never touched, as far as they +knew, until that day on board the Aurora, and then only for the +brief flash of a moment. + +While there is no record that the extremely short contact had any +direct bearing on Captain Sullivan’s career, it surely did bring a +decided change into Tim’s existence--a change which swept him out of +the ranks of everyday men into the pages of history itself. + +In fact, it is doubtful if Captain Sullivan in that instant was even +subconsciously aware of Tim Donahue’s existence. + +When Captain Sullivan hurried down the iron ladder into the +stokehold of the lake freighter Aurora, lying at her dock in +Buffalo, he saw nothing to attract his attention especially to the +stubby man in overalls and a grimy undershirt scooping coal from the +plates into the open furnace. Neither did he particularly notice +that the glare was throwing a red glow over the sweaty shoulders and +iron-gray head of the smallest man in the stokehold. + +But Tim, confined within the limits of a much smaller world, noticed +Captain Sullivan with a touch of curiosity as to his business there. + +Of course there was no real reason why Tim Donahue should know that +Captain Daniel Sullivan was representing the United States +Government, nor that Captain Sullivan had made a rather important +decision a few hours before when he had watched the Aurora come +foaming into Buffalo harbor with a cargo of grain from Duluth under +her hatches. + +The Superior Navigation Company had been notified that their steamer +Aurora had been commandeered by the government, and the ship was on +her way to the yards at Lorain before Tim Donahue discovered the +turn which life had taken. Tommy Jackson, his partner, whispered the +news to him as they came on watch and the information hit little Tim +with something of a thud. + +He worked out his trick below with an all-gone feeling in the pit of +his stomach, and every scoop of fuel he shoveled into the Aurora’s +furnaces seemed to mock him. + +When his watch ended he climbed the iron ladder out of the stoke +hold with lagging steps. The steady thrum of the Aurora’s big +compound engines seemed to be singing a farewell song to him. He +lingeringly sniffed the odors of steam and grease as though he were +anxious to preserve the memories of them forever. + +Tim did not climb clear to the upper deck. Half way he swung to the +narrow steel-sheathed passage over the boilers leading to the small +door which opened through the heavy bulkhead to the engine room. + +As he stepped through upon the gratings around the big cylinders he +could see the oilers below him in the electric-lighted regions. The +hum of the dynamos, the whir of the fans, and the drum of the big +crank shafts plunging almost under his feet mingled in an orderly +symphony. + +The Aurora carried three engineers and Kelly, the second assistant, +was on duty. Across the shining engine room Tim saw Andy McLaren, +the chief, sitting in his hot little office. Tim pointed a grimy +forefinger toward the chief’s sanctum and Kelly nodded permission. + + * * * * * + +The chief engineer looked up suddenly from his log book as little +Tim Donahue stepped timidly through the doorway. It was not the +custom for firemen on board the Aurora to walk into the chief’s +office unless they were invited or summoned, and a summons usually +meant something unpleasant. Tim had never been further than the +doorway. + +“What’s the rip?” the chief asked. + +“Is it true, chief, that the old Aurora’s goin’ to salt water?” the +little fireman asked, standing with his greasy cap in his hands and +his gray head bowed as though he were expecting a blow. Beads of +perspiration stood out on his forehead, streaked with coal dust. + +“It looks that way, Tim,” the chief informed him. “We’re sailing +under orders now from the Shipping Board to deliver the ship at +Lorain. + +“They’ll hack her in two with torches there and send her through the +Welland canal in sections.” + +“An’ that’s the end of her,” sighed the little man. + +“Far’s the lakes are concerned, I suppose it is,” answered the chief +engineer. “It’s not likely they’ll ever send her back.” + +“Well, thin, I suppose we’ll all be gettin’ off her now?” ventured +the fireman. + +“Nearly everybody but me, I guess, Tim, and maybe the cook,” the +chief told him. “With my salt water papers, I’ve been commandeered, +too, for ocean service and they’ve offered me the Aurora. + +“I’m used to her, and I may as well be here as anywhere else. I know +what she’ll do, and I’ll be more at home in her than in some of the +tubs they are puttin’ into service on the seaboard.” + +“Sure, you brought her out just ten years ago, chief,” little Tim +mused. + +“Yes, and she’s in better shape today than when she was launched,” +the chief agreed. + +“An’ I was in her the first trip wit’ you, chief,” the little man +said, looking down at the floor. + +“That you were, Tim.” + +“An’ I’ve been wit’ you every season since, sir.” + +“So you have, Tim, me lad.” + +“Sure, she’s like a home to me, sir,” declared the stubby man. “It’s +been me pride that you were never widout steam when you needed it, +sir--an’ plenty of it, too, chief, wit’ me on watch. I’ve been +hopin’ that I could spend all me sailin’ days in her. + +“I’ve me failin’, I know,” he continued. “There’s been times when +pay days near ruined me. I’m not denyin’ that. There’s been times +when you’ve had to be huntin’ me up on both ends o’ the run, an’ I’m +sorry for the trouble I caused, chief. But it’s me weakness, that’s +all, an’ I’ve thought sometimes ’twas a curse put on me. Anyway, it +never took long to get the whisky out o’ me once I was aboard, did +it, now?” + +“Right again, Tim,” the chief laughed. “I always knew, once I had +you aboard, you’d be ready for duty when your watch was called.” + +“Maybe I’m slowin’ up a bit wit’ age, sir,” the little fireman +rambled on. “I’m gettin’ along well past sixty, I’ll admit, but-- Be +the saints, sir, I can make a lot o’ younger min break their back +over the scoops yet!” + +“I’d say you’ve improved with age,” the chief remarked. “You’re the +best fireman on the lakes, Tim. I’ll say that for you. I wish I +could always be sure of a man like you below.” + +Tim moved closer to the chief’s desk, fumbling his cap nervously. + +“Av you please, Mr. McLaren,” he mumbled. “I’m hatin’ to leave the +old ship. I can’t think o’ her out there in the Atlantic an’ me not +aboard. I’d like to be shippin’ wit’ you, Chief.” + +There was an appeal in old Tim’s eyes, which was far more eloquent +than any words he could have spoken and McLaren saw it. + +“I may not have the say, Tim,” he explained. “I’m working for a new +boss myself. But if there’s a chance I’ll take you with me. You’ll +have to run the risk of torpedoes, when we’re sent across.” + +“Darn the torpedoes!” Tim fairly shouted, unconscious of his +quotation. “Av I can stay in the old Aurora wit’ you I’ll ride thim +torpedoes av I have to, sir.” + +“You may have to do that then, Tim. There’s not many ships gettin’ +through, they tell me, and the subs seem to be getting thicker.” + +“The dirty pirates,” mumbled the stubby man. “Av I could get a good +paste at one o’ thim, I’d give ’em a taste of a real Irish fight.” + +“They don’t give you a chance to fight ’em that way, me lad,” the +chief laughed. “We won’t get such an even break. I’ll let you know +in a day or two what your chances for living to be an old man will +be.” + + * * * * * + +It was an odd fate which awaited the Aurora at Lorain. Within +thirty-six hours of her arrival there the torch-bearers were at work +on the steel sides with their “fire knives.” They cut her through +just forward of her midship deck-house. New bulkheads were fitted at +the forward end of the after section and at the after end of the +forward section and the caulkers made them as tight as the hull +itself. + +A temporary wheel house was built on the deck house and the rudder +chains were connected up to her helm at that point, permitting the +after section of the craft to proceed under its own steam. Then the +odd-looking contrivance started down Lake Erie, with the forward +section coming along under the convoy of two tugs. + +Up to the entry of the United States into the great war, neither the +American shipping interests nor the Canadian government had been +very farseeing. As a result the submarine assault on allied merchant +ships created a situation which was anything but promising. + +Many fine cargo boats, badly needed in the emergency, were locked in +fresh water by the small locks of the Welland canal. Nothing over +260 feet in length could then get through. + +Only one thing could be done. There was not time to enlarge the +locks, but the steel hulls of the lake freighters could be reduced +to sections in a hurry with the torches. Great craft were cut into +sections and floated through the canal. In Lake Ontario ports many +of them were put together again. Others went through in sections to +Montreal before they were again restored to their original form. + +Down in the stokehold of the Aurora, Tim helped keep steam on what +was left of his ship. While he was on watch below there was little +to remind him of the change which had taken place. When he climbed +to the upper deck to view the chubby chunks of what had been one of +the trimmest freighters on the lakes, his heart gave many a sad +thump. + +“An’ to think I’d live to see thim do this to you,” he said. “Wit’ +the rest of us trailing like the second piece of an angleworm. Who’d +think this was the old Aurora, an’ the finest ship on the whole +chain o’ lakes? Will they ever be able to do the right thing by you, +I wonder?” + +At Montreal the Aurora was held for her surface condensers and her +saltwater fittings. Ingenuity born of necessity had found the way to +button steel craft together, and the Aurora, once more her old self, +surprised the stubby old man who had spent ten years of his life in +her stokehold. + +When she was ready for sea, Andy McLaren called little Tim into his +office. + +“We’re paying off the crew tomorrow, Tim,” he said. “The boys’ll get +their wages and transportation back home.” + +“Yes, sir,” Tim replied, with a lump in his throat. “Most o’ thim +have places they can call home, no doubt.” + +“The salt water crew’ll be aboard to sign up in the morning,” the +chief went on. “They do that on the seaboard, you know. Everybody’ll +have to sign articles.” + +Tim nodded, with his cap crunched in his hands, but made no reply. + +“There’s a big risk going to sea in these ships now, Tim,” the chief +warned him. “And it’s not all torpedoes. The lake boats haven’t been +the biggest sort of success in the transatlantic trade. They’re just +as good sea boats, no doubt, but they’re hardly built right for the +ocean seas. Then there’s the subs, too. + +“I hear we’re going right across to Liverpool. They need wheat over +there and we’re fitted to get it to ’em in chunks that count, if we +can get through. But the chances are all against us. If you want to +take the chance, Tim, me lad, I’ll fix it for you. You’ll have to +sign on for the voyage, though, and it’s about like enlisting in the +navy without the chance of fighting back.” + +“I’ll risk me ol’ bones in the Aurora in anythin’ that blows,” Tim +declared. + +“Av she’ll stand up in Lake Superior wit’ the wind blowin’ a gale +clear through from Hudson Bay, she’ll take care o’ herself just +runnin’ across the little Atlantic. + +“I’ll stack her agin thim rusty ol’ tramps that are in service now, +sir. I’m that grateful to you for the chance, and you’ll not regret +it. I’ll break the backs o’ thim salt water huskies, Chief.” + +“Oh, I believe that, all right,” the chief agreed. “I sailed salt +water before I came to the lakes and from what samples I’ve seen, +I’ll hand it to the lake firemen every time. But the old Atlantic’s +pretty cold, Tim, if you have to get over the side, and that’s +liable to happen, you know.” + +“I’ll not be gettin’ over the side until I have to,” Tim asserted. +“I’ve been in the fire hole so long that I’m spoilt, entirely. I’m +afraid o’ the cold, Chief.” + +“I’m just telling you, Tim, you can back out if you want to and +there’s nobody to say a word to you about it. We’ll be pulling out +in the morning, though, and I’m advising you to remember your +failing if you go ashore! This Canadian whisky’s a quick actor.” + +“Sure it’s not me that’ll be backin’ out, sir, nor takin’ any +chances ashore, either,” Tim assured him. “I’ve been worryin’ too +much for fear the old Aurora’d be sailin’ widout me! + +“I may not have much back o’ me, an’ little I know about the +Donahues or the Cullens, either, that came before me. I’ve never +been anythin’ but a fireman, an’ I never will be, Chief. But I ain’t +yellow. Nobody can say that o’ Tim Donahue. He may be an ol’ booze +hound on occasions, but that’s the worst o’ him, sir.” + + * * * * * + +The stubby little man stared straight ahead of him at the chief’s +license on the wall and rambled on musingly as though he were +talking to himself. + +“I was a bit of a lad on Torry Hill in Milwaukee but I can remimber +thim takin’ me mother away in a black cart up to St. Andrews an’ me +an’ the ol’ man follerin’ along in a hack. After the mass, the ol’ +man left me in care o’ the Doherties, that kept a saloon on the +corner, an’ he lit out. Glad to git away, I guess. + +“Whin I was old enough to work I ran away from Doherty an’ his wife, +but I guess it didn’t make much difference to thim because I’ve +never heard from thim to this day. As far as I know, sir, I’ve +neither kith ner kin to be carin’ whether ’r no, if I’m blown up. In +that case, Chief, I’ll have the pleasure o’ finishin’ up wit’ the +ship that’s been me home for ten years. Sure, I’m feelin’ like I was +ol’ John Paul Jones, himself, like he must ’a’ felt whin he set sail +in the ol’ Bonum Richard.” + +To Tim Donahue, odd as it may seem, John Paul Jones stood out in +clear relief. Although old Tim had been only a fireman all of his +life, and although he seemed illiterate, he was a reader of history. +The life and the deeds of America’s first naval hero were the little +man’s special hobby. Somewhere back in Tim’s Celtic past there must +have been a student ancestor, who had left this bit of a bequest to +an odd offspring. + +With the somewhat primitive ability to read which a few years in St. +Andrew’s parochial school had given him, Tim Donahue had been +stumbling through the pages of history. + +His fanciful Celtic mind was able to visualize what he read. It +served to people his brain with living beings who had long since +played their parts upon the earth and passed on. With the magic +power of his retentive memory, he could call back out of the dim +ages the great and the near great, from the Roman Cæsars to Mad +Anthony Wayne. + +The comfort of his life was John Paul Jones and his rotting old +frigate, the Bon Homme Richard. The story of her battle with the +Serapis was his great page in history. It is doubtful if any learned +lecturer could have given a more graphic story of that encounter +than little Tim Donahue. + +In his secret mind, Tim had always hoped for a chance to repeat the +deeds of the long-dead sea master. Half in childish fancy, he had +often served the guns for his naval hero. When he was certain, at +last, that he was about to sail out upon the same old sea which had +lapped the sides of the Bon Homme Richard--a sea again infested by +enemies to the same old flag, Tim’s thoughts very naturally turned +quickly to his hero of heroes, his shipmate of years of fancy. + +“Av he could lick ’em in a rottin’ hulk like the Bonum Richard, +smokin’ an’ burnin’ and witherin’ up under his feet, Tim Donahue +needn’t be losin’ his nerve wit’ a craft like the Aurora under him,” +he mumbled, when he was alone with his thoughts. + + * * * * * + +Ten days out with a cargo of grain under her hatches, the Aurora was +plunging along at ten knots. + +Ten days and nights of the perfect weather which the Atlantic can +exhibit when she is inclined to be agreeable had greeted the lake +steamer on her maiden run through the salt seas. + +Captain James McGraw, survivor of two previous submarine encounters, +had kept well out of the beaten track of ships, and consequently +away from lurking periscopes. During all of this time he had +grudgingly given the Aurora her due as an able ship, which sparing +praise would have aroused the everlasting hate of Tim Donahue had he +been in position to hear the remarks on the bridge. But Captain +McGraw had never before sailed anything but a long-legged salt water +craft and it was rather to be expected that he might be slightly +prejudiced. + +Captain McGraw, cautious from experience and uncertain as to his +ship, could not expect to go on dodging submarines indefinitely +unless he expected to fetch up somewhere in the Arctic ocean. It was +necessary for him to pull at last and bear for the coast of England +if he hoped to make Liverpool with the cargo so badly needed there. +He could only head the Aurora into the danger zone, trusting to luck +to meet a destroyer convoy before the submarines discovered him. + +At the same time the German submarine U-X-8, a supercraft for that +period of the war, was cruising far from its base, waiting for a +chance to pick up a fat victim before returning to its nest. Its +supplies were running low and its crew was beginning to feel the +pinch and nervous strain of the long cruise. With the increasing +fleets of destroyers the sea was becoming less free for the pirate +craft. + +For several days there had not been a sign of a victim and Captain +Froebel was beginning to believe his country had cleared the sea of +merchant ships. Then suddenly far away to the starboard one morning, +he spied a faint smudge on the horizon. + +All day the ship hunter stalked his prey, still far out of range. As +the strange ship came nearer Froebel studied her carefully through +his powerful glasses. At first he feared she might be some new type +of destroyer, which was being sprung on him, or a disguised war +vessel--she lay so low in the water. Her funnel was far aft and her +deck houses were farther apart than those of any other ship he had +encountered. He could not quite make her out. + +When he felt safe in drawing nearer, however, he saw the American +flag flying at her peak. + +“Yankee in a crazy craft,” he muttered. “He’ll be easy. He won’t +fight and that ship should be worth picking.” + +The commander left the conning tower and closed the steel hatch +after him with a bang. Slowly the U-X-8 began to submerge until only +her periscope cut the surface. During the remainder of the afternoon +the submarine cruised within easy range of the odd ship until the +light began to fade and the twilight settled down in a dusky murk +over the sea. + + * * * * * + +It must be admitted that the crew of the Aurora was a bit jumpy, +from Captain McGraw down. It is not a comfortable thing to slip out +of comparative safety into a zone which is known to bristle with +periscopes. + +The darkening of the ship, the frequent lifeboat drills, the +ever-present cork jackets and the noticeably increased tension on +the bridge did not tend to steady the nerves of the men who were +taking a chance on the Aurora. Sailing his first voyage through the +torpedo zone, Tim Donahue was less affected than those who had +passed through the experience before. + +For two days and two nights the thing had been going on. The +smallest unusual event, even the clang of the engine room telegraph +sent the stokers jumping for the safety ladders in a mad scramble. +Whenever such a stampede happened on Tim’s watch he could not +disguise his disgust. His watch partner, August Schultz, a big husky +German, under suspicion by the whole crew, was the worst offender. + +“What the divil’s got into youse?” Tim asked angrily as the crew +grew worse instead of better. “You, Schultz, you big Dutchman, +runnin’ every time somebody stubs his toe on a slice bar! Why don’t +you bend your back like a man an’ help keep some steam in thim +kittles?” + +“Ja!” Schultz cried in broken English. “You want me to drown like a +rat in a trap or get captured aboard a German boat, yes? I know what +they do mit me on these submarines. I been in the German navy three +years. I know these officers, damn ’em! They don’t care for a man’s +life. I run away from it. I can’t stand it. I know what they are, +these officers. They are devils without any feelings. Gott!” + +“It ain’t goin’ to help none to run up on deck and jump overboard +before ye’re hit, is it?” Tim challenged. “You’ll never make a good +Yankee, Schultzie. Y’ ain’t got the in’ards in you. You’re just like +the rest o’ thim Heinies. You’d ought to be aboard o’ one o’ thim +tin fish. Ain’t you got any fight in you, man?” + +“Ain’t I?” cried Schultz, in anger. “Ain’t I? If I get a chance I’ll +show you. I say I know what we get from them. I was in a submarine +three years ago, already, with a captain that was a brute. One +morning I stood on deck, when he wasn’t feeling good and he hit me +in the face and knocked me overboard, because I was in his way. +Gott! If I could see him once with equal chances! + +“We was in the Nord Sea and a Danish fish smack picked me up. Then I +go to America and I make up my mind never to go back again to +Germany alive.” + +“What the divil are you doin’ aboard a Yankee ship out here, thin?” +inquired Tim suspiciously. + +“I’m a sailor. That’s all I can do. I got to live,” Schultz +explained. “Maybe I get my chance at that officer, too. Ach, if I +do!” + +“Well, stick around an’ don’t get looney,” cautioned Tim. “Though +for the life o’ me I don’t see how you got aboard this ship. I +thought they were pretty careful about lettin’ Germans aboard +nowdays.” + +“Nobody asked me anything. I just signed up and nobody tells me I +can’t,” the German insisted. + +“’Tis no wonder the country’s full o’ thim spies,” Tim commented, +“lettin’ furriners in that way. + +“But whither or no, you’ll walk the mark whilst you’re wit’ me. An’ +some time, Schultzie, I’ll tell you about an honest-to-God American +that wasn’t afraid of anythin’ that floated. It ’ll do you good, me +boy. Did you never hear o’ John Paul Jones?” + +“Clang! Clang! Clang!” suddenly crashed the engine room signal from +the bridge. Tim held his breath and waited until, “Clang!” sounded +the signal for the fourth time. He knew the bridge was calling for +“Full speed ahead.” + +Grabbing a short iron bar he ran for the narrow steel ladder and +reached it ahead of the rest of the crew. Then he turned and, +perched on his vantage point four rungs up, faced the panicky group. + +“I’ll brain the first man o’ youse that tries to get out o’ this +fire-hole!” he screamed, swinging his weapon above their heads. “Get +back there an’ shove some steam into thim boilers, y’ quitters! Av +the old man didn’t want more steam he wouldn’t be ringin’ for it.” + +“Out o’ the way there, you crazy fresh water runt!” warned a burly +coal passer, making for the ladder. “They can’t keep us down here to +drown like rats.” + +With a sickening thud the bar crashed down on the skull of the coal +passer and the huge bulk crumpled at the foot of the ladder. “Thud!” +came the bar on another head, and two men lay still at the bottom of +the ladder. + +“I’ll use you all alike!” cried little Tim, the thrill of battle +lighting up his smeared face. “Act like Yankee sailors an’ youse +won’t have nothin’ to fear from me. Get back to thim furnaces now +an’ be min! Schultzie, fire me furnace for me whilst I stay here to +crack the next yellow-leg that tries to run away from a fight.” + +Tim’s rough methods earned command of the stokehold for him. Perched +on his ladder with his weapon ready, he stood guard as the crew +returned to work. + +“I had to put the fear o’ God into thim,” he mumbled as he surveyed +the work of his bar. “I’m hopin’ a little cold water’ll bring thim +boys up standin’.” + +The men in the stokehold of the Aurora could feel the increased +speed of the ship as she surged ahead, and they could feel that she +was swinging off sharply to starboard. But the grimy crew had more +to fear from the stubby man on the ladder than from the torpedo +which they expected momentarily. + +Suddenly there was a terrific shock which knocked down most of the +stokers. The Aurora rolled down wickedly, but righted herself within +a few minutes. It seemed hours before the signal to stop rang out in +the engine room. Then came a bedlam of hideous noises from above, a +series of explosions following one another in a deafening roar. + +“They’re shellin’ us!” cried one of the men. + +“Thin we’re safer here,” Tim announced. + +“Schultz!” he sang out. “Go on deck an’ find out what it’s all +about! Thin come back an’ tell us. Mind you don’t lose your nerve +an’ run away. If y’ do, God help you--we’ll all take a crack at you. + +“The rest o youse stay here. Maybe th ol’ man’ll be wantin’ some +more steam in a minute. Keep her blowin’ off!” + + * * * * * + +For very good reason, Captain Froebel had decided not to sink the +Aurora with an expensive torpedo. He had been away from his base a +long time and with so many British and American destroyers now +operating, he wanted to save his deadliest weapon for them. Also, +the Aurora promised to have things on board which he needed, and his +German thrift forbade destroying a prize which promised little +difficulty, until he had picked her clean. A bomb properly placed +would finish this craft when he was through with her. So he +determined to pick her clean without considering that several things +might happen. + +In the first place, never having had experience with Great Lakes +craft, he had no idea that the Aurora was capable of picking up +speed rapidly. Neither did he know that this odd ship, built to cut +some sharp corners in the ship canals without a tug, was quick as +lightning on her helm. It came as a surprise to him, therefore, when +the steel hull of his victim slammed into him and carried away the +periscope of his almost totally submerged craft. + +With its periscope gone there was nothing left for the U-X-8 but to +come to the surface and fight it out. Even in this situation the +underwater boat had all the advantage over the Aurora, which was +sailing without a gun crew. Repairs to the damaged periscope could +be made quickly, once the prize was disposed of. Captain Froebel +hurriedly mounted his light deck gun and fairly deluged the decks of +the Aurora with shell fire as a matter of chastisement. + +“Take your crew off in the boats!” he shouted to Captain McGraw of +the Aurora, in very good English, after the first shower of shells. +“I’m going to shell your ship immediately again. Heave to and get +your boats off if you want to save your men! I’ll give you ten +minutes.” + +Captain McGraw, who had seen four of his men go down under the fire +of the pirate, was well aware that further resistance was useless. +The Aurora was not built for battle and a well-placed shell might +end her career at any time. He sounded the order for the boats and +the crew lost little time getting overside. + +Deep down in the stokehold, Tim Donahue and his surly crew failed to +get the order to abandon ship. When Schultz clambered down the +ladder with his report, he whispered to the little man on guard so +that the men might not know the truth. No doubt he feared they might +blame him for not shouting down the order from the deck. Without +doubt the sight of the German craft had frightened him and driven +all desire to leave the ship from him, because of his fear that he +might be taken aboard the submarine. + +“Gott!” he whispered excitedly. “It’s a big submarine and we knocked +her periscope off. She is laying to and our crew’s gone over the +side, already. We’re all alone on the ship.” + +“The divil we are!” little Tim cried. + +“Ja!” Schultz whispered. “They are coming aboard from the submarine. +I saw them launching a collapsible.” + +“Let thim come,” challenged Tim, grasping his steel bar tighter. “Av +these yellow legs’ll stick we have a chance yet. If not thin we’ll +all go together. Are you game, Schultzie?” + +“Ja!” declared Schultz. “Maybe I get a chance at an officer, +anyway.” + +Tim Donahue looked down into the smeary faces of the men in the +stokehold. There were eight of them and they were looking up at him +curiously. + +“Youse guys have one chanst in a thousand o’ gettin’ out o’ this +alive,” he told them. “There’s a submarine ’longside an’ there’s a +Heinie crew comin’ aboard. They’ve got our gang up there buffaloed. +Will youse stick?” + +“Sure we’ll stick!” they answered him. + +“All o’ youse?” + +“Sure--what’s the game?” + +“Thin hunt yourselves some good handy pieces o’ pipe an’ be sure +it’s heavy enough,” Tim directed. “Mind ye do as I say or it’ll be +all off wit’ youse. There’s a choice for you bein’ kilt by the +Germans ’r me. Get out o’ sight in the bunkers an’ stay there quiet +till ye hear me signal which will be Schultzie, here, talkin’ Dutch. +The Heinies think they’ve got the hull crew corraled. Schultzie, me +lad, you’re a godsend this day. Come up the ladder wit’ me now, and +keep out o’ sight when you get on deck.” + +The long steel ladder led up to a hatchway in the forward end of the +deck house, which was connected with the after cabin galley and mess +room. A door directly in front of the companionway to the stokehold +led directly out on deck. As the two stokers reached the top of the +ladder, they heard the men from the submarine coming over the rail +to the deck just outside. Hurriedly Tim and Schultz sought a hiding +place on either side of the door, each grasping a short bar, their +only weapons. + + * * * * * + +Schultz listened intently to the conversation of the boarding crew. + +“Cleared out like rats from a sinking ship,” he heard the officer in +charge sneer in German. “Yankees! Bah! They won’t fight like men. We +will clean her out and then blow her up. First I will go through +these deck houses to see what the swine have left for us.” + +Schultz stiffened in eagerness. He started to move forward, but Tim +grasped him by the arm. + +“Keep your shirt on, Schultzie,” cautioned the temporary commander +of the Aurora. “Wait for him to get well inside.” + +“Gott!” Schultz hissed. “How can I wait! So bad I want just one good +crack at his head.” + +The two men crouched breathlessly in the shadow as they heard +footsteps coming nearer and nearer along the steel deck. The +interior of the deck house had become quite dark in the dusky, +grayish light which hung over the sea. The officer’s flashlight +blazed ahead of him as he stepped through the doorway. + +There was a sudden muffled thud, a stifled groan, a faint scraping +sound. Then silence. + +“You got him good, Schultzie, me by,” Tim whispered. “I’ll drag him +out o’ sight whilst you’re callin’ in a couple more o’ thim. Git +thim two at a time, if you can. There’s time enough and we’ve got to +give the lads below a chanst at thim, y’know.” + +“Two men follow me!” Schultz commanded in German, his hand before +his mouth to muffle his voice. More footsteps sounded on the deck +and the stokers waited for the figures to darken the doorway. There +were two more slight thuds and then perfect silence. + +“Goin’ fine, Schultzie by,” whispered Tim. “Just like the ol’ Third +Ward picnic at home. Get their guns and heave thim guys out o’ the +way where they won’t be disturbin’ us. How many more in the boat?” + +“There were six in the boat with the officer,” Schultz answered. + +“Four left thin,” commented Tim. “We’ll feed thim to the byes. Fetch +thim all in, Schultzie.” + +“All of you follow me below decks, this way!” Schultz directed in +the same guttural, muffled voice. “The companionway is here.” + +A moment later four more figures passed through the doorway and +groped ahead into the darkness unmolested. They found the +companionway and following the red glow from a partly opened furnace +door, they began to descend the long ladder, directed by Schultz +from above. + +When they had neared the bottom the flash played upon them from +above, but thinking their commander had remained behind their +suspicions were not aroused. Under the light, however, the waiting +stokers, crouching to spring, watched them come. + +When the last man had stepped to the steel plates, Tim bade them +strike. There was a rush and good American curses came up, mingled +with cries of surprise and groans. Then silence settled down. + +“Got thim all, lads?” Tim called from above. + +“Sure t’ing,” came the answer. “Send some more.” + +“Get their guns!” Tim ordered. “We may need thim. This thing’s only +half over.” + +Schultz was bending over the prostrate officer, who had been dragged +out of the way. + +“Gott!” he cried. “He is der captain. He lives, but not for long, I +think. It was my chance and I fixed him good.” + +“It ain’t hardly human to shuffle thim off that way, Schultzie,” Tim +said regretfully. “You must o’ hit him too hard. But if you done it, +it’s too late to kick now. It ain’t our way, though. Get on his cap +and jacket. We need a Dutch captain at this stage o’ the show.” + +“But he was--” began Schultz, trembling with emotion. + +“Oh, the divil take care o’ him! Never mind who he was. I hope he +was the Kaiser. Anyway, he’ll never tell on you.” + + * * * * * + +Standing at the rail of the Aurora, coached by Tim Donahue, Schultz +with his adornments of an officer of the German navy, called out in +his best High German to the man on the conning tower of the +submersible, just visible in the dusk. + +“Bring eight men aboard at once!” he ordered in a disguised voice. +“This craft’s full of plunder that we need. There’s not a Yankee +sailor left on board.” + +The two men at the rail of the Aurora watched the small boat leave +the submarine before they hurried back to their station just inside +of the deck house. + +“Below there!” Donahue called down into the stokehold. “Here’s eight +more comin’ aboard! Don’t open up anythin’ until you get me signal! +Kin you handle thim or shall I come below meself?” + +“We’re waitin’ for ’em,” came the answer. “Send ’em along.” + +“There’s the byes,” said Tim, with a note of pride. + +Within fifteen minutes the second boatload from the U-X-8 were lured +into the stokehold. Then came some more thuds and groans and a few +curses, and another battle was over. + +“All clear below for the next lot!” came a voice from below. + +“There’ll be no more murther done on this ship this night, you +bloodthirsty divils,” answered Donahue with a chuckle. + +“Get on their caps an’ blouses and we’ll all go over an’ have a look +at the submarine. There can’t be more’n half a dozen left on her. +Get all the guns you can find on thim fellers down there, and you’d +best make thim all fast so they won’t wake up an’ start somethin’ +whilst we’re away.” + +The firehold crew was not long in getting up the ladder to the deck, +rigged out in a motley array of German sea clothing, and grinning +with the thought of the easy victory over the enemy, who had +descended innocently to meet them. + +“We’ll take the two boats,” Tim directed, as the group gathered +about the rail. “Schultzie an’ me and two min ’ll git off in the +first boat an’ the rest o’ youse follow in the second. Stand off +until you get three flashes from me light. Thin come along wit’ +ever’thin’ y’ got!” + +“Mind y’ keep your mouths shut, an’ let Schultzie do the talkin’,” +he admonished. “He’s got the lingo, and don’t any o’ youse be tryin’ +out your Milwaukee German.” + +Silently the smeary, grimy expedition put off from the ship, and the +leading boat boldly approached the submarine. It was now quite dark, +and the men in the boats were reasonably safe for the time being. A +look-out was posted on the deck of the submarine and Schultz hailed +him in German. + +“The rest of the men are following shortly,” the bogus captain +assured the guard. + +There was no challenge, and the four men silently climbed aboard, +keeping their weapons handy. Schultz and Tim walked toward the +look-out. + +“Pigs,” grumbled Schultz. “They have all run off like cowards.” + +At the same minute the look-out’s knees doubled under him suddenly +and he sank limply to the deck without a groan. Immediately Tim’s +light flashed across the water, and the second boat came alongside. + +“Follow us below an’ keep thim guns handy!” he whispered as they +scrambled across the slippery deck. “We’ll have a fight on our hands +now, I’m thinkin’.” + +There were six men below, but only two of them were in sight when +the unexpected guests arrived among them. When the other four rushed +into the compartment they were looking into the muzzles of ten guns. +Their two mates were but silent heaps. + +“You’re lucky y’ were in the other compartment,” commented Tim, +grinning at one of the captured officers. “Behave yourselves now and +you’ll be likely to see home some time av there’s anythin’ left o’ +your damned country whin the Yanks get through wit’ it.” + +“Swine! Yankee swine!” raved the officer. + +“So you thought ’twas easy we’d be, me laddie buck,” Tim tantalized. +“An’ did you never hear o’ the ol’ Bonum Richard an’ a feller named +John Paul Jones? An’ better min than you’ll ever be, he had to fight +an’ lick, me son.” + +“You will pay! You will pay, yet,” cried the angry captive in fair +English. “When the day comes the German navy will come out and then +good-by to your puny fleet, your transports, and your whole +verdammt’ country.” + +“Fools!” rumbled Schultz. “You know nothing of the wonderful +America. She is the best country in the world. You will never whip +us!” + + * * * * * + +The survivors were shackled and tumbled into convenient berths while +the boarding crew went gunning in search of any who might have +escaped the first assault. Tim found a line which was made fast to +the bow of the submarine. Leaving two men aboard, he ordered the +rest of the crew back to the Aurora. + +“Schultzie,” he said, “wit’ your experience in the German navy you’d +ought to be able t’ navigate a ship. Can you steer? She’s steam gear +and can be handled from the bridge.” + +“I have served both ends of the ship in the navy,” Schultz assured +him. “But I’m not a good navigator.” + +“Well, do your best, me lad. So long as you don’t fetch us up in the +German navy yard, it’ll be all right,” Tim comforted him. “Wit’ me +life spent in the fire hole I’d ought to be able t’ run the engine +room. Maybe I can find an oiler in the crowd to be me first +assistant. We’ll run her along easylike until daylight, an’ maybe +we’ll pick up the boats wit’ the skipper an’ the rest o’ the crew.” + +The sun rose to reveal a strange spectacle on the high seas. +Lumbering along, with an odd fishlike creature dragging at the +stern, the Aurora came into the reddish-yellow light of the dawn +like a figure being developed on a photograph plate. At her stern +fluttered the Stars and Stripes and on a tiny jury staff above her +strange tow a similar emblem floated. + +Far off on the horizon a smoke cloud appeared suddenly, growing +larger and larger, as Schultz watched it from the bridge through the +ship’s glasses. Then he telephoned to the engine-room, and Tim +Donahue, acting chief engineer, shut off steam and climbed to the +bridge. The news spread below decks, and the stokers deserted their +furnaces without orders and clambered up to the main deck, many of +them still wearing the uniform of their enemy’s navy. + +Strung along the rail they watched the strange ship racing toward +them from the colorful horizon. A cheer went up from the deck of the +Aurora when a long, lean destroyer came roaring up ’longside. The +cheer grew louder when the smoke from the destroyer’s funnels blew +aside, revealing the Stars and Stripes flying straight out in the +wind. + +When an officer and his crew of gobs came aboard of the Aurora, they +gazed suspiciously at the motley group of men in German uniforms, +keeping their weapons handy for instant use. + +“Sure, sir, they’ve just borrowed thim rigs,” Tim Donahue explained +with a grin. “The guys that owned them costumes won’t need ’em for +awhile, so there’s no hard feelin’s at all.” + +“Who is in command of this ship?” the officer asked, with a tone of +authority. + +“You may have your chice, sir,” Tim replied. “I’m actin’ chief +engineer, and Schultzie there, wit’ a Dutch name an’ a Yankee heart, +he’s been skipper all night. The rest o’ the crew flew the ship, +wint over the side whin the tin fish we’ve taken in tow started +poppin’ shells at us. + +“Sure, I don’t blame thim for skiddooin’. I’d ’a’ done the same had +I the chanst. I’m hopin’ they’re all safe, ’specially Mr. McLaren +an’ the rest o’ the engineers. They were good fellers.” + +“The boats were picked up during the night by a British destroyer, +and the men taken to Liverpool,” the officer informed him. “We were +instructed by wireless of the presence of this submarine, but we +didn’t expect to find this ship afloat. She’s a lake ship, eh?” + +“She is that, an’ the best afloat, sir,” Tim declared. + +“I thought I knew her. I was born at Cleveland,” said the officer. + +“God bless you, son,” cried Tim. + +“Give me your report, please,” the officer directed. + +With his Irish love for the dramatic playing at its full sweep, Tim +Donahue told his story in detail, encouraged now and then by the +grins of the sailors from the destroyer. + +“We’re ready to turn over the ship to you, sir,” he concluded. “An’ +it’s thankful I am, sir, that I’m puttin’ her into the hands of a +Great Lakes man.” + +“Your job was well done, I’ll say,” the officer smiled, with more +enthusiasm, perhaps, than is proper for an officer to display. “You +will all be rewarded for this by the government. Now you will +proceed to Liverpool, with your ship under convoy.” + +“Sure, sir,” Tim bowed. “We’ll go anywhere wit’ the Aurora, av +you’ll give us a navigatin’ officer an’ an engineer. It’s in the +fire hole I’m needed, sir, where good min count.” + +“They will come aboard presently,” the officer informed him. “Now, +where is the crew of the submarine?” + +“Here and there, sir,” Tim responded. “Some in the coal bunkers, +some in the deck house an’ a few mad ones aboard the submarine. +We’ve had little time to arrange thim for inspection, sir.” + +“Say!” blurted the officer, with sailor-to-sailor frankness. “Will +you tell me, please, how you got away with this thing? You’ve told +me how the boys stood by you, but what about yourself in this mess?” + +“It was like this, sir,” said Tim, solemnly. “Y’ see ’twas the first +trip for me an’ the ol’ Aurora on salt water an’ I had to stick by +her. We’ve been together ever since the day she come out o’ Ecorse +yards, sir. + +“Whin I thought o’ thim divils riflin’ her an’ thin stickin’ a bomb +into her and sinkin’ her out here alone in strange waters so far +from home, it made me blood boil, it did. I said to myself, we’d not +give up without a scrap, an’ av the worst came, sir, we’d go under +together--me an’ this ol’ girl that’s made a home for me for ten +years.” + +Tim paused to look proudly over the steel decks of the ship. His +eyes glistened a little as he turned back to the officer, a grin +wrinkling his smeared face. + +“Did y’ never hear o’ the Bonum Richard an’ ol’ Paul Jones, sir?” + +“All that happened a long time ago. What’s it got to do with this?” +the officer asked. + +“I’m thinkin’ he must ’a’ felt about the same about the ol’ Bonum as +I did whin thim pirates began abusin’ the Aurora, sir.” + +“Well, he had nothin’ on you, old timer,” the officer declared with +more enthusiasm than a naval officer is expected to betray. + + +[Transcriber’s note: This story appeared in the March 9, 1929 issue +of _Argosy All Story Weekly_ magazine.] + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77346 *** |