Motor Matt in Brazil; or, Under The Amazon

by Stanley R. Matthews

  CHAPTER V.

  OFF FOR THE AMAZON.

  Motor Matt considered himself personally responsible for the safety ofthe _Grampus_. The boat had been placed in his charge by Captain Nemo,Jr., her owner, and the captain's faith in the king of the motor boyswas unlimited. Matt was to take the submarine to Mare Island Navy Yardand collect one hundred thousand dollars for her from the government.Those were his instructions, and the captain not only expected them tobe carried out to the letter, but he also expected to pay Motor Mattwell for doing it.

  All this responsibility, it may be, had got on Matt's nerves a little,so that he was apt to shy at imaginary dangers. But this fact in nowise interfered with his coolness and courage.

  The whole under part of the submarine's hull was filled with smoke--asmoke that had the acrid smell of burned gas. On hands and knees, Mattgroped his way through the haze, pulled a switch, and set an electricventilator fan at work. The fan soon cleared the ship, and the firstfigure Matt saw was that of the gasping Chinaman. He was on his kneesin the tank room. In front of him lay a twisted and broken gasolenetank--a small reserve reservoir sometimes used to help out the largertank when the fuel in it was running low. This auxiliary tank had notbeen used for a month, but had hung empty from a rack in the tank room.

  At the Chinaman's side lay a cigarette and a half-burned match.

  "What the deuce happened?" cried Glennie, creeping after Matt.

  "Your Chinaman tried to light a cigarette," answered the youngmotorist, quick to reason out the cause of what had happened. "He wasunder an auxiliary gasolene reservoir, and the match set it off."

  "Thunder, Matt!" exclaimed Gaines, who had dropped down below afterGlennie, "there hasn't been any gasolene in that tank for a month."

  "The vapor was there, all the same."

  "Nonsense!" exclaimed Glennie. "Vapor wouldn't stay in that tank for amonth. It would escape and find its way out."

  "Gasolene vapor is heavier than air," said Matt; "and it would remainindefinitely at the bottom of the reservoir. A little of it probablyleaked through the bottom of the feed pipe, so that the match set itoff. Luckily for the Chink there wasn't very much of it."

  "Gee, klismus!" babbled Ah Sin. "Me tly smokee, something go _boom_! Nolikee devil-boat!"

  "Have you any more cigarettes?" demanded Matt sharply.

  Ah Sin dug a handful out of the breast of his blouse.

  "Is that all?" demanded Matt.

  "No gottee allee mo'."

  "Don't strike any more matches," went on Matt sternly. "You're goingwith us to Para, and you're going to do the cooking. Take him in hand,Speake," he added to Speake, who had dropped down behind Gaines, "andshow him how we do that part of our work on the _Grampus_. Keep an eyeon him, and see that he doesn't blow up the boat."

  "Never did like a bloomin' chink, nohow," grumbled Speake. "If he gitstoo blame' troublesome, I'll break his scrawny neck. Come on here,yaller mug!"

  Speake made off forward, toward the torpedo room, and Ah Sin meeklyfollowed. Just then a thump on the deck, and a loud hail, announcedthat Dick had arrived with the gasolene.

  "Rig the hose, Gaines," called Matt. "Clackett, get the pump on deck.We've got to get the fuel into the tank in short order and then slantaway for the Amazon and Para."

  While Gaines and Clackett busied themselves, Matt and Glennie went upto the periscope room. Carl was just climbing the ladder to help Dick.Glennie, without further talk, picked up his suit case and went on tothe room that had been set apart for his use.

  "Dot ploomin' shink vill ged us all indo some hot vater," grunted Carl.

  "I guess not," returned Matt. "Speake is looking after him."

  "Vat iss a shink anyvay," went on Carl, "but some monkies mit der tailsin der wrong blace?"

  Clackett came with the pump and passed it to Dick, who was in the boatwith the barrel of gasolene. The pump was rigged, the end of the hoseclamped on, and Clackett and Dick got busy pouring the fuel through thehose and into the big tank below.

  While they worked, Clackett explained to Dick that they were to make aquick departure for the Amazon. Dick was disappointed, for he had hopedfor a night's shore-leave in Port-of-Spain, where he had some friends.When he learned that business of Glennie's had all to do with theirshort stay in port, Dick was inclined to be resentful.

  The ensign had not made much of a hit with Ferral--nor with any of therest of the submarine's complement, for that matter. Dick, however, didno more than grumble. If Motor Matt thought it necessary to pull outfor the Amazon in such short order, then there was nothing more to besaid. Matt knew what he was about.

  Dick alone, of all the submarine's crew, had been the only one to setfoot on shore. As soon as the gasolene was transferred, and the boatmanpaid for his services, the anchor was taken in and the _Grampus_ laidher course for the Serpent's Mouth and began her long voyage toward theAmazon. Dick took the wheel. Matt, studying the charts, gave him thecourse. Glennie came out of his room and watched the two lads whilethey were at work.

  Everything was going well, and the rhythmical hum of the motor echoedthrough the boat from the engine room. Glennie walked over and tooka look at the periscope. In the mirror were reflected the slowlyreceding shore line and the distant mountains that arose behind thetown.

  "You fellows seem to know your business," remarked Glennie.

  "Aye," growled Dick, "and we mind it, Mr. Glennie."

  The ensign turned from the periscope and went up on deck.

  "Why are you keeping the boat so high in the water?" he called down.

  "He knows so much, matey," said Dick to Matt, "why not let him figurethat out for himself?"

  "Because," Matt answered, shaking his head at Dick, "we can make betterspeed when we're riding light. Once out of the Gulf of Paria, though,the sea will probably be so rough we'll have to submerge."

  The ensign continued to ask questions and Matt continued to answer themuntil Speake announced dinner. The meal was served to the crew at theirdifferent stations, Ah Sin carrying the plates and the steaming cups ofcoffee.

  After the meal Matt went up on deck with Glennie, and Dick did thesteering from the top of the conning tower. The Gulf of Paria wasa great watery plain, over which the waters of the Orinoco spreadthemselves before mingling with the sea.

  The ensign, feeling that he was disliked, drew back into his shell andbore himself with a chilly reserve. Along toward three o'clock Mattrelieved Dick and sent him below to sleep. Directly after supper Dickwould have to relieve Gaines and stand his trick at the motor, and itwas necessary for him to get a little rest. Carl would also have torelieve Clackett, and, in order to be fit for his duties, the Dutch boyhad turned in immediately after dinner. He was sleeping on the floor ofthe periscope room, and Dick curled up on the locker.

  The afternoon saw the _Grampus_ well across the gulf, and by fiveo'clock she changed her course to south by east, leaving the denselywooded hills of Trinidad far behind with the coast of Venezuela inplain view to starboard.

  Ah Sin, having been duly instructed as to his duties, prepared thesupper on the electric stove, and served it. Speake relieved Matt atthe steering gear, and when Dick went below to take Gaines' place atthe motor, Matt sprawled out on the locker to catch his own fortywinks. A stiff sea was running, and the _Grampus_ was submerged to adepth that merely left the periscope ball clear of the combers.

  As the darkness deepened, Speake had Carl put the turbines at work,throwing out sufficient water ballast to lift the conning-towerlunettes clear of the waves. The electric projector was then turnedon, and a ray of light shot through the forward lunette and marked thesubmarine's path through the tumbling sea.

  For some hours everything went well. Then abruptly the motor beganto sputter and misfire, lessening the speed of the boat and throwingher--now that she was riding higher and with the top of the conningtower awash--more at the mercy of the waves.

  Loose furniture began to slam around the periscope room. Matt wasthrown from the locker, and
sat up, wondering what had gone wrong withthe motor.

  "What's the matter down there, Dick?" he called through the motor-roomtube.

  "I'm a Feejee if I know," Dick answered. "You'd better come down, oldship, and take a look."

  Matt was soon at his chum's side. His keenly trained ear was usuallyable to locate any ordinary trouble, but this time he was puzzled.The ignition was all right, and the supply pipe from the tank wasclear. Nevertheless the motor sputtered and jabbered with a wheezy butunsuccessful attempt to do its full duty. The platinum, in the bladeor spring of the commutator, will, in rare cases, get loose and causemisfiring, but that was not the cause of the present trouble. Anotherrare cause, resulting in similar symptoms, lay in the loosening of thecarbon pole in the cell of a battery. But, just now, the batteries werenot at fault.

  Finally, as a last resort, Matt examined the gasolene that was beingfed into the carburetor. A few drops in the palm of his hand arousedhis suspicions. The next moment the hydrometer test was made and waterwas found in the gasolene.

  "How did it get there?" demanded Dick. "The gasolene has worked wellenough all afternoon and so far during the night."

  "None of the gasolene you bought in Port-of-Spain has been used as yet?"

  "Not a drop."

  "Well, connect up the carburetor with the storage reservoir. If thereis a little water in the carburetor, it will soon work out. After that,empty this tank, strain the gasolene through chamoiskin, and then givethe tank a compressed-air treatment. I'll send Clackett to help you."

  "But how, in the name of sin, did water get in that tank?" cried theperplexed Dick.

  As Matt turned to crawl away, he picked up a six-inch ebony cylinder,about the size of a lead-pencil, from near the tank. It was a chopstick!

  "Has the Chinaman been here?" he asked.

  "Not that I know of," answered Dick. "Why?"

  "Nothing," said Matt, but he was doing some tall thinking as he steppedinto the torpedo room, aroused Clackett, and sent him aft to lend Dicka hand.