XI
JAWS OF DEATH
It was Michael Splendor whose reasoning finally calmed the girl's worstfears for Don and Red. It was a known rule of "Scorpia," he pointed out,that only agents who had to work in close contact should know eachother, even by sight. Therefore, dressed in seamen's uniforms, the twoyoung officers would run little risk of discovery until they actuallyboarded the pickup plane.
After that, things would begin to happen fast, with probably fatalresults to someone!
"You see, Mercedes," Don added, "we've simply got to capture that enemyship! It's bound to be armed with one or more machine guns. In any case,it would double our chances of beating off enemy bombers until our ownsquadron shows up. And, by the way--we've got just two hours now tosunrise. We'd better get started without any more delay!"
Returning on deck, the officers found Red Pennington just signing off acode conversation with Captain Holding in Washington. The IntelligenceOfficer had been routed out of bed and was personally directing thedespatch of fighting planes to the _Gatoon's_ rescue. It seemeddoubtful, however, that the squadron could arrive in less than threehours.
"We can only hope," Captain Riggs remarked, anxiously, "that somethingwill delay the enemy's arrival, too. The best I can do aboard is tomuster the crew on deck with loaded rifles. If the bombers try diving atus, our bullets _might_ take effect."
After a brief discussion, it was decided to take Don and Red in one ofthe lifeboats, about half a mile to leeward of the _Gatoon_, and theredrop them overside. The water was fairly warm off the coast of Haiti.The only real danger they would face, while drifting about on the black,mile-deep water, would be from sharks.
The question of uniforms was quickly settled, by new outfits drawn fromthe ship's "slop-chest." Don was to impersonate Corba, with the red andwhite rating badge on his blouse sleeve placing him as a Radioman, FirstClass. Red, being husky and heavily built, would take the part of the"gorilla" seaman, Mink.
The change of clothing was quickly made; but first, both young officersstrapped on pistol holsters under their blouses. The weapons themselves,fully loaded, were sealed in watertight oiled silk. Life belts, clumsybut buoyant, made their outfit complete.
Just before they took their places in the ready lifeboat, LieutenantAllen came hurrying from the engine room to report a piece of good luck.
"We've repaired the steam line, sir," he said, approaching CaptainRiggs, "and we had an easier job of cleaning out that emery dust fromthe machinery than I had expected. We'll be ready to get under way inhalf an hour."
"Splendid! Great work, Lieutenant!" cried the _Gatoon's_ skipper. "Thatgives us an extra chance in case we are bombed. A ship steaming inzigzag is a harder target to hit. We'll just drift until daylight; butsee that you have full steam up by then!"
"_Before then_, if you don't mind, Captain!" put in Michael Splendor,rolling his wheel chair up to the rail. "The steam winch will be neededto lower yon seaplane overside. 'Tis a heavy weight to handle bymanpower alone."
Captain Riggs muttered a brief consent, and turned to grip the hands ofthe two departing officers. Quickly, Mercedes, Splendor, and the_Gatoon's_ afterguard followed suit. There were no formal good-bys; butthe words spoken were packed with meaning:--
"Good luck, Don! So long, Red!"
"See you later, Commander!"
Expertly manned, the lifeboats touched the water with scarcely a sound.The boat falls were quickly released; strong arms pushed the littlecraft clear of the _Gatoon's_ looming side. Above, the dim blur of facesat the ship's rail faded from sight.
"Out ... oars!"
The coxswain's low spoken order came from the lifeboat's stern sheets.It was answered by the soft thudding of oars into rowlocks. Don and Red,in their seamen's uniforms, each gripped one of the long ash blades,"feathered" it by a drop of their wrists, and held it poised above theblack water.
"Altogether.... Give way!"
At the coxswain's word, six tough muscled bodies tensed; six oar bladeshit the water at the same precise instant. The little craft leapedforward like a startled fish.
Steering only by the light wind astern, it covered the half mile toleeward of the _Gatoon_ in about five minutes. As there was no moon theship could not be seen. Only the starshine, reflected from the ocean'sheaving surface, showed where water ended and air began.
To a landsman, it would have given a queer sensation; adrift in a smallboat at night, with nothing to see but starshine above or below; to knowthat a mile beneath that black water lay the hills and valleys of theocean's bottom; to think that, in just a minute, one would be _in_ thatwater up to one's neck, with the lifeboat pulling away, out of sight andsound!
Even the seasoned sailors in the boat with Don and Red must have hadsome such thoughts, though Navy discipline kept them from sayinganything. When the two young officers stood up in their life belts,ready to bail out, the coxswain alone spoke up.
"Is there anything else, Commander?" he asked huskily. "Sure you don'twant us to stand by for a while after you and the lieutenant gooverboard?"
"Of course not, Coxswain!" replied Don with a quiet laugh. "This isn't asea burial. It's just a job Lieutenant Pennington and I have to do.You'll probably be in more danger aboard the _Gatoon_ than we will behere. Steady, now! We're going over the bow."
"Aye-aye, sir!" answered the petty officer, with a catch in his voice."And here's wishin' you and the Lieutenant good luck!"
The lifeboat pitched and swung off as two heavy splashes sounded overher bow.
"Good luck to you, Coxs'n!" sputtered Red Pennington from the water."Sheer off now and head for the ship! They're showing a signal light togive you your bearings."
When the last faint splash of oars faded out, Don Winslow spoke.
"Feel lonesome, Red?"
A gasping breath from the darkness gave evidence of Red's position, evenbefore he answered.
"G-gee, Don!" he stuttered. "I wondered for a minute if you'd driftedout of hearing. Sound off again, Skipper, so I can paddle closer! I'dcertainly hate to float around here in the darkness and know I was allalone.... Say, where are you, anyhow?"
"Here!" answered Don, shortly.
"Huh? Where? I thought you were over _there_!" burbled Red Penningtonbetween frantic splashings. "Are you swimmin' circles around me,Skipper, or is it the darkness? Dawggone...."
"It's your life preserver, Red!" Don chuckled. "Don't try to swim fastin that thing, or you'll just spin round and round. Paddle over hereslowly, and I'll pass you an end of marline I brought along to lash ustogether."
There was some more splashing, and a final grunt of relief as Red foundDon's hand holding the length of tarred cord. For a while neither ofthem spoke. The feeling of being suspended in wet, black space ratherdampened the wish to talk.
An hour passed in gloomy, uncomfortable silence, before the first hintof daylight showed across the tossing wave tops. Little by little thenight sky paled, making the water look all the blacker by contrast.Then, a mile to windward, the two officers made out the ship they hadleft--a faint, gray shadow breaking a wave-notched horizon.
"We've drifted quite a distance, shipmate," Don observed, gazing towardthe _Gatoon_. "Too far for anybody on board to sight us! I supposethey're wondering whether or not the sharks have gotten us by now."
"What _I'm_ wondering is whether that Scorpion seaplane is going to spotus or not," responded Red Pennington. "And something else just occurredto me--Will the pilot have orders to pick us up before or _after_ theytry the bomb the _Gatoon_? We didn't think to ask Corba that one, didwe?"
"He might not have known, anyhow," Don shrugged. "Quit thinking up somany different kinds of hard luck, Red, and tell me how your appetiteis. I've got some chocolate and a couple of sea biscuits stowed away ina waterproof envelope. There's no telling whether we'll eat breakfasttoday...."
"Or be eaten _for_ breakfast!" Red cut in with a yell. "Look! Isn't thata shark?"
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Don Winslow of the Navy Page 11