CHAPTER VII

RUMOURS OF WAR

"ONE moment, sir," said Gerald as he accompanied the captain across the fo'c'sle, where a party of men were undergoing musketry exercise. "What is the meaning of that cylinder close to the muzzles of the rifles?"

"It's a silencer--the Lucas silencer, to be exact. I took a fancy to the device and acquired the patent. Mr. Ball, bring me one of those rifles, please."

The gunner brought one of the rifles for inspection. As Gerald had already noted it differed little from the Lee-Enfield type.

"The magazine takes a clip of ten rounds of .202 ammunition," announced Captain Brookes, as he pulled out the "cut-off" and thrust a cartridge into the chamber. "Now, listen."

Bringing the rifle to his shoulder the captain pressed the trigger. Beyond the slight recoil and a faint hiss there was nothing to indicate that the weapon had been discharged, until the still-smoking cartridge-case was ejected.

"I am applying this principle to all our ordnance, from the 6in. down to the revolver. It means a great moral advantage to be in a position to launch a hail of charged shells with a complete absence of sound," continued the captain, as he handed back the weapon. "Now we will----"

"Sail-ho!" came a hail from the bridge.

"Where away?" demanded the captain, in stentorian tones.

"Dead ahead, sir."

"That's the _Puma_, I'll be bound. Mr. Tregarthen, we must postpone the remainder of our inspection for awhile. In the meantime you'll find Mr. Stockton in your cabin. You may inform him that he has the run of the ship, with the exception, of course, of the conning-tower."

So saying, Captain Brookes hurried off to the bridge, the speed of the _Olive Branch_ was reduced to less than twenty knots, and preparations were begun for opening communications with the _Puma_, which was already within five miles when Tregarthen went below to rejoin his companion.

"It's settled, Jack; you are to stay aboard the _Olive Branch_," he exclaimed.

"Yes, I know, thanks to you. They've told me that I'm to share your cabin."

"How did you know that?" asked Gerald. "Captain Brookes agreed to my proposal, and ever since then he has not been out of my sight."

"I don't know; I'm here, and there's an end of it as far as I am concerned," replied Jack, philosophically.

"Well, let's go on deck. We've sighted some vessel or the other."

"What's the game--piracy?" asked Stockton, suspiciously.

"I don't think so. But we're easing down, so look sharp."

Together the two chums gained the quarterdeck, the sentry on the half deck coming to the salute as Tregarthen passed. Here, again, Gerald was puzzled, for the man evidently was aware that the young lieutenant was no longer under arrest but had nominally become an officer of the ship.

The _Olive Branch_ and the _Puma_ lay side by side at about a cable's length apart. There was a total absence of wind, and the sea was as smooth as glass, while overhead the sun beat fiercely down upon the mirror-like surface of the ocean.

On the _Olive Branch_ the bo'sun's mate had piped "Clear lower deck," and already the somewhat meagre crew had mustered on the upper deck, where warps and hawsers were being laid out with the evident intention of making fast to the other vessel.

The _Puma_ was a tramp steamer of about 6,000 tons, with two stumpy masts, a black funnel, and towering wall sides that had been but partially painted, for a considerable portion of her hull still showed the priming coat of red lead. From an ensign staff over her taffrail the stars and stripes hung motionless in the sultry air. The _Olive Branch_ flew no colours.

"I don't think it's piracy this time," remarked Jack. "The men are not armed."

"They seem a well set up lot," said Gerald. "I wonder where they were picked up. Short service naval men and Royal Naval Reserve seamen in all probability."

Tregarthen knew a sailor when he saw one, and his observations were correct. The men had for the most part discarded their No. I suits of blue serge, and were dressed in serviceable white canvas. With the utmost alertness and intelligence they executed their orders, which were given with a noticeable lack of bawling and shouting.

Smartly the _Olive Branch_ was manoeuvred alongside the _Puma_, large fenders protecting the two vessels from the slight rolling as the latter's derricks were set to work.

In less than two hours eight 6in. guns, each weighing nearly seven tons, were transferred from the hold of the tramp to the deck of the cruiser, besides several smaller quick-firers and a quantity of cases and empty shells. Why the projectiles were shipped apart from their cartridges Tregarthen could not understand, though he resolved to make inquiries at the earliest opportunity.

The work of transhipping the ordnance having been completed, the skipper, a typical New Englander, came aboard the _Olive Branch_, armed with a sheaf of documents. For half an hour he remained below in the company of Captain Brookes, and on returning to his own ship the hawsers were cast off.

Meanwhile Tregarthen noticed that the cruiser's ensign had been hoisted--a device similar to that worn on the seamen's sleeves, evidently representing an olive branch in green on a white field.

As the two vessels parted company, the cruiser making off at a decorous seventeen knots, there was a mutual dipping of ensigns, and a quarter of an hour later the _Puma_ was hull down to the nor-west.

For the rest of that day all hands were kept busy in mounting the principal armament. The work proceeded with marvellous rapidity, testifying to the splendid mechanical appliances at their command.

Hitherto unnoticed by the sub-lieutenant a powerful crane was cunningly concealed in the wake of each turret, so that when not in use one of the faces of the apparatus lay flush with the deck. By actuating a lever an enormous mass of metal rose to a vertical position, the arm commanding a radius of 20ft., while in the place of a hook was a powerful electromagnet. The top of the hood of each turret was composed of plates of 4in. steel, each section being temporarily held by metal bolts. Round swung the crane, the current was switched on, and plate after plate was whipped off till the turret was ready to receive its pair of guns. These were then easily lowered upon the mountings that were waiting to receive them, and the roof of the turret was next replaced, men setting to work with electric welding machines to permanently seal the armoured slabs.

The work was still in progress when dinner in the ward-room was announced, and before this function Gerald and Jack were introduced to the other officers of the ship by Captain Brookes.

There were fifteen occupants of the wardroom, all told. Some of the officers Gerald had met before, namely, White, the surgeon, and Christopher Weeks, the young lieutenant who had escorted him to the captain's quarters. Taken together the officers of the _Olive Branch_ gave Tregarthen the impression that they were a genial, happy-go-lucky class. They spoke freely on general topics, but studiously avoided "shop," nor did they go into details concerning their past careers.

There was one exception, however.

The scientist, Taylor, who had charge of the laboratory and shell-filling room, was ever ready to let his tongue wag unrestrainedly in spite of the invariable snubbing he received from his messmates.

After dinner Gerald and Jack went on deck. Here strong arc lamps enabled the crew to continue their labours, for Captain Brookes was evidently in a hurry to get the work completed; he was here, there, and everywhere, testing circuits, examining the riveted plates, calling attention to this and that defect, and, in fact, an example of unflagging energy.

"What is this extraordinary hurry for, Mr. Sinclair?" asked Tregarthen of the navigating lieutenant, who had just been relieved on the bridge.

"Don't you know? Hasn't the captain told you the news? We've our first real business in hand. A wireless was received this afternoon that war is to be declared between two South American Republics within a few days. This is where we step in."

"How do they manage the wireless business, I should like to know," remarked Stockton, as the two friends gained the seclusion of their cabin.

"Really, I'm not surprised at anything in this ship," replied Gerald. "How is it going to end? The _Olive Branch_ cannot keep the sea indefinitely. She must take in stores, have her hull coated in dry dock, and undergo a periodical refit. It all costs money, and where does the money come from? Who is this Captain Brookes? A millionaire--a fanatic--or what?"

"I suppose---- Hallo, who's there? Come in." A timid knock at the door had interrupted Jack Stockton's sentence.

A fresh-complexioned round-faced little man edged cautiously into the cabin, and carefully closed the door behind him. It was Taylor, the scientist.

"Well, Mr. Taylor, what can we do for you?" demanded Gerald.

"Hush, sir, not so loud, I pray of you," replied the little man, anxiously, his closely cut greyish hair bristling in his excitement. "My name is Schneider, not Taylor.

"I am a professor of languages and sciences. You came from Poole, is it not? Zen perhaps you are acquainted with Colonel Mortebeque? I was at one time tutor to his son----"

"Look here, Mr. Schneider," broke in Tregarthen, impatiently. "I don't know Colonel What's-his-name, nor do I want to hear your personal history. Come to the point--what do you want with us?"

"Alas!" groaned the professor with a shudder and a curious grimace. "I have been trapped; brought on ze voyage under false representations. It was to be scientist zat I was brought, but ze Captain Brookes he would me make fill ze shells in ze laboratories. I like it not. He is pirate."

"Who says he is a pirate?" asked Gerald sternly.

"Me, I will not say it. But zen, he is a--a what you call it. Ah! I know--a wizard. You two are also in peril. Will you ask ze captain to let you go on land at ze first port we touch, and take me wit you? Zen we run away and be safe."

"Look here, Mr. Schneider, you've come to the wrong box. If you've any complaint, why not lay it before the captain himself? If as you say the captain is a wizard he might be listening now to what you are saying. You understand? Well, then, clear out."

"A bright specimen of a sneaking waster," remarked Jack, as the cabin door closed on the retreating figure of the professor. "I wonder if there's any truth in his tale, eh?"

"I don't think the skipper will go to that extent," replied Gerald; as he prepared to turn in. "Anyway, we're here, so let's make the best of things. By George! old chap, to tell the truth, I'm jolly glad we came."