Chapter II: Part 2

Presently he heard the sound of oars; not good lusty strokes, but cautious, half-hearted pulls. The dip of the blades was just audible above the noise of the wind, but the usual sound of creaking of tholes or rowlocks was absent. Whoever it was rowing at this time of the night, they were up to no good, thought Jack, because the oars were muffled.

"Perhaps it's some beachcombers coming to sneak some of the yacht's gear," he muttered. "I'll rouse Harry." But ere he could make up his mind to do so the sound of the dipping blades grew fainter and fainter. No doubt the yacht, showing no light, had been unnoticed in the darkness.

"I'm hanged if I can stand this any longer," exclaimed the sleepless youth. "I'll turn out and have a look round."

Fumbling in the darkness he found an oilskin coat with a sou'wester stuffed into one of the pockets. After a tough struggle with the refractory coat, which had stuck together in many places, Jack managed to scramble into the obstinate yet serviceable garment. Well it was that he did so, for on gaining the well he found that a light driving rain was falling.

"Might just as well stick it," he continued, and sheltering behind the after bulkhead of the cabin he looked into the darkness. He tried to locate the powder-hulk. Her approximate position he knew, but there was no visible sign of the storehouse of potential energy.

A thousand tons of cordite. The words seemed to revolve in his mind with persistent frequency. One pound of cordite, under pressure, would blow a man to smithereens; there are 2,240 pounds in a ton; in a thousand tons----

"Whatever is the matter with my nerves to-night?" he exclaimed. "They seem all on edge. To-morrow I'll----"

Suddenly a lurid red flash, quickly followed by a second, pierced the darkness. A brief instant later and two muffled reports, just audible above the now strong gale reached his ears. They were revolver shots, and they came from the powder-hulk.

II

"WAKE up, old man!" exclaimed Jack, darting into the cabin and shaking his comrade.

"What's up?" asked Harry, awake in a moment.

"There's something up on board the powder hulk. They're firing."

Harry deliberately struck a match, lit the cabin lamp, then looked his chum squarely in the face. But Jack, blinking in the light, seemed too genuinely excited to play a practical joke; besides, his streaming oilskins showed that he had been outside for some considerable time.

"What do you think is the matter?"

"Goodness knows; but--rather a strange thing--a boat passed us some time ago."

"Why strange?"

"She was rowing with muffled oars."

"Oh! We may as well go and have a look at the hulk. Are you game?"

"Yes," replied Jack simply. His sense of uneasiness had now entirely left him, and beyond a tingling sensation in his throat he felt fairly calm and collected.

"Cast off the painter, then," ordered Harry, as he completed his hasty toilet. "I may as well take my revolver, though it's not up to much."

The _Spray_, like many other small yachts, carried a revolver, for use in case of emergency. As the skipper remarked, you might have the weapon on board for a lifetime and never require it. On the other hand, you might find it useful for summoning assistance. This particular pistol had seen its day. It was an old-fashioned percussion-capped Colt, taking nearly five minutes to load. Its owner habitually kept one chamber, upon which the hammer rested, empty; three were loaded with powder only, the remaining two had cylindrical bullets in addition to the charge. If the weapon did not miss fire--which was more than possible--it could be relied upon to make a deafening row, if nothing else.

Thrusting the revolver into the pocket of his thick pea-jacket, whence its muzzle projected a good two inches, Armitage jumped into the stern-sheets of the nine-foot dinghy. Jack shipped the oars and pushed off in the direction of the invisible hulk.

It was a strong pull, for the light cockleshell had to make headway against a strong wind and tide, but Standish stuck to his task and "kept his eyes in the boat," guided only by the direction of his companion's extended hand.

"Steady now," cautioned Harry, as the bare outlines of the _Bikanir_ began to loom up in the darkness. "We're out of the tide here."

"And a thundering good job too," muttered Jack, pausing for one instant to wipe the raindrops from his face.

Rowing with the utmost possible silence he brought the dinghy under the stern of the hulk. Here, sheltered from the wind, the lads held on to a massive mooring-chain, and waited.

Beyond the shrieking and hissing of the wind as it eddied past the old two-decker, there was nothing to be heard. The hulk seemed a silent as the tomb.

"I believe you're mistaken," whispered Armitage; "perhaps those fellows you heard in the boat were wild-fowling by night."

"That won't do," replied Standish. "Firing is prohibited within the limits of the Dockyard Port of Sandborough, and this part lies well within the boundary. Come on--let's pull round to the gangway, only, if we're challenged, we must reply pretty promptly, or the consequences might be awkward."

As the two lads approached the wooden ladder they found that there were _two_ boats made fast to the gangway. This looked suspicious, for the watch-keepers were allowed one only, for the purpose of communicating with the lamp-boat in case of emergency.

"That's not a government boat," whispered Armitage pointing to the outside one, a kind known as a wherry. The boat was now within arm's length, and taking hold of the gunwale, Harry peered into the mysterious craft.

With a stifled exclamation he released his hold with a strong shove, and the dinghy immediately drifted down stream.

"Pull in under the stern again," whispered Armitage excitedly.

"What is it?" demanded Standish.

"There are two dead men lying on the bottom-boards of that boat."

"Then the police have shot them. Those were the two shots I heard."

"Do you think so?" asked Harry. "It's the other way about, I fancy. If the water-police had fired the shots they would have signalled for assistance as soon as possible. No, Jack; I'm afraid it's like this. Some rascals have shot the two watchmen and are up to some villainy."

"Perhaps they are not dead after all."

"May not be," assented Harry. "Come on; I've got over the shock now. We'll see what's to be done."

Curiously enough both lads had no thought of rowing off to the nearest ship for assistance. The fact that two unfortunate beings might perhaps be badly injured, and in want of immediate aid urged them to renew their investigations.

Once more the two boats rubbed sides. Standish held on while his comrade clambered softly into the larger craft, and bent over the two motionless forms lying on the bottom-boards.

They were the water-police. Armitage could distinguish the peaked cap of one of the men. As he cautiously touched the form nearest to him the man writhed. He was bound and gagged.

"Steady there!" whispered Harry. "I'm Armitage. You know--the fellow in the yacht."

The man nodded his head in assent; and his rescuer, now satisfied that he would not receive a blow from the brawny fist of the policeman, deftly removed the gag and severed the man's bonds.

"Be careful with my mate, sir," said the first policeman. "He's been plugged."

The second watchman was quite conscious, and when released, Armitage found that the man had been shot through the left arm. The wound was caused by a small-bore automatic pistol, and had cut so clean a hole that there was very little bleeding.

In a few words the first man, whose name was Smith, whispered the story of what had occurred. Five men had boarded the _Bikanir_, and unperceived had gained the upper deck. Attracted by the voices of the watchmen, who were conversing under the poop-deck, the rogues made a sudden attack upon the unprepared ship-keepers. Smith was thrown on his back, without a struggle, but Adams, the other man, drew his revolver to fire at his assailants. Ere he could take aim he was shot through the left arm, and the sudden sting of the bullet caused him to press the trigger of his weapon and send the charge into the air. A sharp tap on the head knocked all power of resistance out of Adams, and the two men, bound and gagged, were placed in the boat alongside.

"Hadn't we better row you ashore?" said Armitage.

"Won't do," replied Adams grimly. "This wound of mine isn't anything to speak of. We've made a mistake in getting taken unawares, but the Force don't recognise mistakes. Come along, Tom--let's tackle the fellows."

"I'm game," replied Smith, "Blest if the silly fools ain't left me my revolver!" Sure enough, the weapon was still in the man's holster. "Look here, gents, if I was you I would clear off as fast as you can. There's no knowing what them chaps are up to with the magazine."

"Not I," replied Armitage quickly. "I've a revolver with me--not much of a one--but it may come in handy. How about you, Jack?"

Standish thought of the thousand tons of cordite, but in quite a different way from what he had done in the night. He meant to do his best to save the stuff from doing incalculable harm to life and property.

"I'm with you," he replied.

"Then the sooner we tackle the job the better," continued Smith. "Those cowardly brutes may look over the side at any moment, although it's precious dark down here."

Revolver in hand Smith crept softly up the ladder; Armitage, who had turned the chamber of his weapon so that one of the loaded charges would be fired first, followed at his heels; while Standish and the wounded policeman brought up the rear.

Unobserved they gained the entry-port. The five rascals were bending over the main hatchway, beneath which the explosives are stored. The stout padlock and securing bars were rapidly giving way under the persuasion of a file and a couple of crowbars.

"Make your way aft," whispered Smith, "We'll pepper 'em from there."

Just as the hatch-cover was burst open the four made a dash for the shelter of the poop-deck. Standish tripped over a ring-bolt and fell headlong, but Smith turned, picked him up as easily as if he were a mere child, and dragged him under cover, to the accompaniment of a regular fusillade of shots from the automatic pistols of the five determined villains.

"What are you afraid of?" shouted one of the men in a guttural voice, for some of the desperadoes were running forward. "Come with me and settle them properly. They have no pistols."

With that the men stopped their flight, hung together for a few seconds, then advanced, firing wildly as they did so.

Fortunately the poop deck was barricaded off by a 5 in. oak bulkhead, sheathed with steel, that extended down to the hold, thus completely isolating the magazine from the after part of the ship.

Revolver in hand Tom Smith waited, but Armitage, in his inexperience, was not so cautious. Raising his weapon he fired into the cluster of advancing men. The revolver _did_ go off this time, with a lurid tongue of flame and a livid report that completely out-voiced the sharp crack of the automatic pistols. But the bullet found no human billet. It had the result of causing the attackers to turn tail and make precipitately for the shelter of the fo'c'sle.

"Pity you didn't reserve your fire, sir," said the policeman reprovingly. "We might have bagged a couple of them at the least."

"I'm sorry," replied Harry.

"Maybe someone ashore will hear the report," continued Smith. "It was like a small cannon going off."

"I'm afraid not," said Jack. "I could only just hear the sound of the first shots, and we are lying less than three hundred yards off. The wind is so high."

"Then perhaps they'll see the flashes," added the man optimistically. "At any rate, we can keep the brutes from tampering with the magazine. They won't dare come aft since they know we've firearms, the white-livered skunks!" Then came a lull. The desperadoes lay still within their defences, while their antagonists kept on the _qui vive_ ready to open fire at the first sign of renewed activity on the part of their foes.

"We've trapped them!" exclaimed Armitage, who was busily engaged in breaking out bullets from the policeman's cartridges and ramming them into the chambers of his revolver. "It will be daylight in an hour."

"The relief boat doesn't turn up till six," observed Adams. "I reckon they won't wait till then. They will make a bolt for it."

"We'll cut off their retreat then," added his comrade. "Look here, sir," addressing Standish. "Do you think you could manage to pull off to the light-boat and get the lanterns and the rockets?"

"I'll have a shot at it," replied Jack, although he did not relish the idea of making his way across the upper deck to the gangway and being the target for five automatic pistols.

"No, not that way," exclaimed Smith hurriedly, as Jack prepared to make a dash across the danger zone. "Can you swim? Good. Slip your things off and I'll lower you from the stern gallery. You can then swim to your boat and row off for the gear."

"Look here," exclaimed Standish as he was divesting himself of his clothing. "I wonder if I could tow the other two boats with our dinghy? Then the rascals' retreat would be fairly cut off."

"Not against this wind, even though the tide has turned," replied Smith. "You'd find yourself blown half way up to Flapperham in a brace of shakes. But I'll tell you what. There's plenty of rope on board. You might run off a line to the light-boat, and haul the other boats off to her. When you get to your dinghy pull up under the stern and I'll drop a coil down to you."

"Now I'm ready," announced Jack.

"Bill," exclaimed the policeman, addressing his comrade. "Hang on to my pistol for half a shake, while I lower this gent. How's your arm?"

"Fairly nippy, but it's of no consequence, being my left," replied the man. "When you've been shot through the stomach with a Mauser bullet and through the forearm with a soft-nosed bullet like I have, a little scratch like this don't signify."

It was horribly cold, being lowered feet foremost into the water. Jack would have much preferred to take a header, but once fairly in the chilliness vanished, and he struck out for the gangway, keeping close to the barnacled side of the towering hulk.

Clambering into the dinghy, he rowed to the stern of the _Bikanir_ and took the coil of rope on board. The execution of his plan necessitated a double journey; first to the light-boat, then to the two boats tied to the gangway; then back to the light-boat, to which he hauled the sole means of the desperadoes' escape. This done he took the three red lanterns, half a dozen rockets, and a box of matches, and returned to the powder hulk.

"Now what's to be done with the dinghy?" he exclaimed, after he had fastened the procured articles to a rope and sent up to Armitage who was ready to receive them. "We can't leave her made fast here, and we don't want to turn her adrift."

"Throw up your painter and make fast the rope to the after ring-bolt--we'll haul her up to the stern-gallery," replied Harry. "Look sharp; they're going to send up a rocket and then the fun will commence. The lanterns are already lighted."

"I thought the fun commenced a long time ago," remarked Standish as he swarmed up the rope and gained the stern-walk.

"Now then, sir, stand by for a rush," continued Smith, gripping his revolver resolutely, as Adams struck a match and held it to the touch-paper of the rocket.

_Swish!_ With a rush and a roar the rocket soared skywards, and, bursting, gave out a brilliant blue light that threw the deck of the hulk into strong relief.

It was like disturbing a nest of wasps. The five men emerged from the fo'c'sle. Four of them ran blindly for the gangway. Smith's revolver cracked, and one pitched forward on the deck, jerked his limbs once or twice and then lay still. This time the shot failed to stop the rush. The policeman fired again while Armitage, cocking and discharging his antiquated weapon as fast as the could, joined in the attempt to repulse the rush. But, apparently unscathed, the three gained the entry-port and disappeared down the ladder.

"Bad luck to 'em!" exclaimed Smith as he ejected the smoking cylinders from his weapon. "They've got to choose now between death by drowning or penal servitude for life. I----"

"Look out," yelled Standish, in accents of alarm.

The fifth man had, unperceived by the defenders, retraced his steps to the fo'c's'le, and now, with a hissing fuse in his hand, was creeping stealthily towards the partly covered main hatch.

"Wing him, or he'll blow the ship to atoms," shouted Smith, as he feverishly thrust fresh cartridges into his revolver. But Armitage had fired his last shot.

The miscreant, knowing by the policeman's shout that he was discovered, bounded over the remaining distance betwixt him and the gaping hold. Then with one foot upon the coaming he raised the lighted fuse. _Bang! Bang!_ Smith's revolver kicked t w i c e i n q u i c k succession.

"Got him, by George!" exclaimed the policeman, and the man staggered and clapped his hand to his chest.

But the exclamation of exultation was changed to one of horror as the desperate scoundrel, still grasping the spluttering fuse, lurched forward and disappeared down the hold.

III

FOR fully thirty seconds the policeman and the lads remained rooted to the spot, gazing with horror-stricken faces at the gaping hatchway. The momentary expectation of the explosion--the swift upward blaze of fiery light; the awful concussion, the disintegration of the hulk, was pictured under fearfully realistic conditions. A swift death, yet terrible to contemplate.

Even as they waited they saw the fuse, fanned into flame by its flight, had ignited a part of the hold, and a dull glare was playing upon the sides of the coamings. Yet the explosion had not taken place.

Smith was the first to find his voice.

"Perhaps the fire has fallen clear of the cordite," he gasped. "Man the pump; it's our one chance."

The hose of this relic of years past was fortunately already connected, and the two lads frantically turned the heavy crank while the policeman directed the muzzle. Meanwhile Adams had remembered the extincteurs; but in his excitement he threw them down the hold without attempting to unscrew the patent heads, and this means of fighting the flames was absolutely wasted.

But a few revolutions of the pump resulted in a steady flow of water. The flames turned to smoke, and in a few minutes the danger was passed.

But now the tardy assistance was at hand. Steam-launches and pinnaces from the ships in harbour tore pell-mell towards the signals of distress. Bluejackets, scorning the risk they ran, swarmed up the decks of the _Bikanir_. Additional hoses were brought into action, and in less than a quarter of an hour the hold was flooded.

Daylight was now breaking. Jack, pale-faced and breathless, pointed to where the _Spray_ was now plainly visible, riding to the flood-tide.

"Let's scoot," said he. "I've had enough of this to last me a lifetime."

"Smith," exclaimed Armitage, "we're off. Mind, we don't want to be dragged into this business."

"Very good, sir, and thank'ee for what you've done," replied the man, earnestly. "I'll tell my mate to keep his mouth shut as far as you are concerned."

Half an hour later the _Spray_, with her exhausted crew, was beating up channel towards Flapperham.

* * * * *

Strange to relate, it afterwards transpired that there was not a pound of explosive on the hulk. A week previously the ordnance people had removed the cordite to the shore magazine. It was no business of the water police to know what the ordnance men did, and by an oversight that department failed to notify the superintendent of police that the watchmen might be withdrawn.

Who the desperadoes were was never known. The body of the most daring of the miscreants was found, badly burned, in the hold. The man who was shot during the rush to the gangway died in hospital the next day without regaining consciousness; while at low water the bodies of the three men who fled down the ladder were found lying on the mud, so the whole of the active members of the gang were accounted for.

As for Smith and Adams, they did well out of the business, both being made sergeants in recognition--so the report states--"of their bravery in frustrating, _when absolutely unsupported_, a daring attempt by five unknown miscreants upon the powder-hulk _Bikanir_."

THE END.

[Transcriber's Notes:

"THE CAPTAIN, A MAGAZINE FOR BOYS & 'OLD BOYS.'"
was a monthly magazine for young boys. It contained articles
about how to make things yourself, about schools, photography
and short stories by different authors. The magazines were
also published collectively as half-year volumes. In 1912
volume XXVII appeared that included three stories by
Percy F. Westerman.
Those stories are presented in this ebook, with the
addition of a contents-list and an illustrations-list.

This book contains a number of misprints.
The following misprints have been corrected:

[an attempt will made to] ->
[an attempt will be made to]

[ejacuated Devereux] -->
[ejaculated Devereux]

[asked the American, cutely,] -->
[asked the American, acutely,]

[One warthy Berber] -->
[One swarthy Berber]

[she ay moored] -->
[she lay moored]

[are th signal that a] -->
[are the signal that a]

[the cluste of] -->
[the cluster of]

Obvious punctuation/spelling errors were corrected without note.

]