CHAPTER XVIII.

A RASCAL BROUGHT TO BOOK.

We must now go back to an occurrence that happened earlier in the evening. The ship had finally received orders to dock at Southampton and was proceeding at a fast clip up the Channel when the telephone in the wireless room rang and a voice inquired for Bill Raynor. Summoned to the wire by Mullen, Bill, who had just entered the station after a miserable day of anxiety for Jack, replied and found that he had been called by the ship's surgeon, Dr. Moore.

"There has been an accident," said the doctor; "one of the men has been badly injured. He says he wants to see you without delay."

"But I know none of the crew," said Bill.

"This man evidently knows you, however," returned the doctor, "and I wish you would come as soon as possible. He appears to be worrying over something and says he cannot rest till he has seen you."

Greatly mystified, Bill obeyed the summons. On entering the doctor's cabin he saw, stretched on the lower bunk, and swathed in bandages, the figure of a man who turned a pair of sunken eyes on him.

"One of the stewards," whispered the doctor. "Poor fellow. Badly scalded in the galley."

He turned to the sufferer.

"This is Mr. Raynor, whom you wanted to see," he said.

"Let him come here," said the man feebly.

Bill approached the man's side.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

"I want to ease my conscience of a great burden. Bend low so that you can hear me. It hurts when I talk loud."

Bill bent over the pitiable, bandaged form.

"What do you want to tell me?" he said.

"That your friend, Mr. Ready, is a prisoner on this steamer," was the reply that brought an exclamation of amazement from Bill.

He was half-inclined to believe the man was delirious for an instant, but a moment later revised this opinion.

"How do you know this?" he asked, when he had recovered from his astonishment.

"I helped the plotters who put him there," moaned the man. "They were Germans, like myself, and they told me that if he was not shut up he would betray them to the English authorities as soon as the ship docked. They gave me money and I let them have the key to a cabin far in the stern of the vessel. They forged a note to him and trapped him when, in answer to it, I led him to where they were waiting."

"And he is there now?" cried Bill.

The man nodded slowly.

"So far as I know. They had screwed bolts on the door."

"He was not hurt?" demanded Bill.

"Not seriously; but they struck him on the head."

"The brutes," cried Bill.

"You know who they were, then?"

"I can guess--a man named Radwig and another named Schultz."

The bandaged man nodded again.

"You have named them correctly."

"Doctor!" exclaimed Bill, "you have heard what this man has said. Can you leave him long enough to go with me to Captain Jameson?"

"Gladly, my boy. But of all extraordinary tales----"

"It is true, upon my word of honor," groaned the injured man. "The number of the cabin is 14. The chief steward has the keys. I stole them from his desk to open the stateroom and placed them back again without his knowledge."

"And just to think," muttered Bill, as he and the doctor hastened from the injured man's side, "that if it had not been for that accident we'd never have known a thing about poor old Jack's plight till too late. After all, that feeling I had was correct."

Captain Jameson summoned the chief steward as soon as he had heard Bill's story and together the commander, and the others, hastened through the maze of corridors leading to stateroom 14. Theirs were the voices the boy had heard, and in ten minutes' time he was wringing Bill's hand and telling, to an indignant group, the story of Radwig's outrage.

The captain's indignation knew no bounds.

"I'll have those rascals in irons before we drop anchor!" he exclaimed. "We are nearing Southampton now and if that man had not met with his accident they might have landed and escaped scot free."

Jack was weakened by his trying experience, but he was not too exhausted not to be able to accompany the officer to Radwig's cabin. A knock on the door brought an immediate answer:

"Come in."

"Keep back," whispered the captain to Jack, "I want to see how far these rascals will incriminate themselves."

Accordingly, Jack and the others kept out of sight as the door was opened and Captain Jameson stepped inside, but as the portal was left ajar, they could hear what went on within.

"You know my friend, Mr. Ewing," said Radwig, in oily tones, indicating Schultz, who, it will be recalled, had adopted that alias, and who was seated in Radwig's cabin engaged over a valise full of papers.

The captain bowed his acknowledgment of the introduction.

"And to what am I to attribute the honor of this visit?" said Radwig. "Possibly something connected with the formalities of landing? I am informed we shall be in harbor in a short time now."

"That is correct," said the captain bruskly, "and we shall land minus one of the ship's company."

"You mean poor young Ready, the wireless operator," said Radwig. "It was too bad about that unfortunate lad. If my friend and myself had been a few seconds earlier we might have saved him before he went overboard."

"Well, of all the precious hypocrites," gasped Bill under his breath.

"He takes the grand trophy," breathed Jack, who had been told of the cleverly arranged story of his death that had been circulated.

"There is not a question but that he is drowned, I'm afraid," came from Schultz the next minute. Then was heard the captain's voice.

"Why, yes, gentlemen, there is," he said; "in fact, there is every question for _here he is_!"

As if he had been an actor answering his "cue," Jack stepped into the lighted doorway. At the sight of him, the two miscreants shrank back as if they had seen a ghost.

"Oh, I'm real enough, Messrs. Radwig and Schultz," smiled Jack, as the others crowded in behind him.

"And it will be my duty to hand you both over to the British authorities," snapped the captain to the speechless pair.

Radwig made a sudden dart for the valise full of documents. His move was so unexpected that before they could stop him he had hurled it out through the open porthole. Then, with a snarl of rage, he flung himself at Jack. But the captain's erect figure interposed.

"Stand where you are," he ordered, and Radwig found himself looking into the muzzle of a revolver.

"Hold out your hands," he ordered and cringing, the two miscreants obeyed.

"Jones," he added, addressing the chief steward, "oblige me by slipping those handcuffs on the men."

The click of the steel bracelets appeared to arouse Radwig to speech.

"You--you--young whelp," he shouted, shaking his manacled fists at Jack. "Whatever may be my fate, I'll remember you and see that you are attended to if it takes every penny and every resource I have."

"Violence won't do you any good," commented the captain quietly, "and if I know anything of the English law you are apt to spend quite some time in Great Britain. Jones, march the prisoners to the smoking room and detain them there till the ship docks."

Sullenly, the two prisoners shuffled out of the cabin and were marched past wondering passengers to their place of detention. Three hours later, when the ship docked, the boys saw them being taken ashore by British officials. A thorough ransacking of their cabin had failed to reveal any incriminating documents, although the valise which Radwig had hurled out of the porthole undoubtedly had contained such papers.

At Southampton they learned that the _St. Mark_ was likely to be tied up for some time. Rumors of mines and torpedoes made the owners unwilling to risk her loss. The two lads, therefore, left the vessel, and proceeded to London, where their instructions were to visit agents of the line and learn if anything had been heard of Tom Jukes. They found the city thronged with marching soldiers and territorials, while everywhere proclamations calling on the men of England to enlist were posted. Otherwise, however, everything appeared to be going on as if there were no war.

Inquiry at the agents resulted in a meagre clue to the whereabouts of the lad of whom they were in search. He had wired for funds from Malines, a Belgian town, a few days before war was declared and the Germans invaded Belgium. Since then nothing had been heard of him.

The magnitude of their task appeared greater than ever to the two lads now that they had actually started the work. But Jack was not the sort of lad to give up at the first difficulty.

"We'll go to Belgium," he announced, but right here a stumbling block appeared.

There were no longer regular steamers running to Belgian ports, and the small and infrequent craft that did venture had been warned by the Admiralty that the North Sea was thickly sown with mines. It was a journey full of peril but, nothing daunted, Jack and Bill journeyed to Grimsby, a town on the east coast, where they were told they might be able to engage passage on a trawler, provided they could find a captain adventurous enough to take them across.

All this took up valuable time, for in the confusion and turmoil of war time, business was harder to transact than in normal times. Two days were consumed in London, but on the evening of the second they started for Grimsby. As they took their seats in the train, a newsboy came along shouting "War Extras." They bought some of his papers and settled back to read them.

"Well, here's an encouraging item," said Bill ironically, as the train moved out. He pointed to a despatch headed:

"Trawler destroyed by mines in the North Sea."

"We'll have to take our chances," decided Jack, "but, hullo--what's this?" he exclaimed suddenly; "listen here, Bill."

He read excitedly from his paper:

"The two prisoners arrested as German military agents on the arrival of the American liner _St. Mark_ at Southampton two days ago have, in some mysterious manner, escaped. Four of their guards are under arrest. It is hinted that bribery was used to effect the Germans' liberty."