by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XV A ROAR FROM THE DEEP
"It will be an hour or two before I can get out," Blackie said nextmorning, standing up to stretch himself before the fire. "I want to goover some maps Red McGee gave me. Lawrence can draw up a simple chartthat will keep us going right.
"MacGregor," he turned to the aged Scotchman. "How would you like to takeJohnny for a circle or two in the fog? You might discover some evidence.It's nets we want most. If we can discover some of those nets inside thethree-mile limit it will help a lot."
"Like nothin' better," said MacGregor. "Come on, Johnny, let's getgoin'."
MacGregor had spoken for both of them. Johnny was fond of the engineer.He was old, mellow and kind, was MacGregor. This, he had confided toJohnny, was to be his last year with the service. Another twelve monthsand he would be pensioned. "And, Johnny," he had added, "I'm as eager asany boy to have a part in something big before I am compelled to go."
"I hope you can have," had been Johnny's heartfelt wish.
So now, with the sun still low and the fog, it seemed, thicker than everbefore, they slipped out of the snug little natural harbor into the greatunknown that is any sea in time of fog.
Standing at the wheel, Johnny watched the dark circle of water aboutthem. Ever they moved forward, yet never did this circle grow larger. Itwas strange.
There was life at this circle. Now a whole fleet of eider-ducks, restingon their way north, came drifting into view. With a startled quack-quackthey stirred up a great splatter, then went skimming away.
And now a seal with small round head and whiskers like a cat came to thesurface to stare at them.
"Not worth much, that fellow," was MacGregor's comment. "Not much morehair than a pig.
"But look, Johnny!" his voice rose. "There's a real fur seal. His hide'sworth a pretty penny. Wouldn't have it long either, if those Orientalssighted him. We used to have a hot time with 'em over the seals. Had topay 'em to get 'em to leave the seals alone. That was a shame. Have to dothe same with the salmon, like as not. We--
"Look, Johnny! What's that?" His voice suddenly dropped to a whisper, asif he believed the fog had ears. "Right over to the left, Johnny. Ease'er over that way."
"Another seal," said Johnny.
"It's no seal," MacGregor whispered. "Johnny!" His whisper rose. "We got'em. It's a net marker. Inside the three-mile limit. An' it's none of RedMcGee's net markers either."
"That--that's right," the boy breathed.
"And there's the floats, Johnny! There they are!"
Sure enough, leading away into the fog was a wavering line of dots.
"We'll follow it," was MacGregor's instant decision. "See how much netthere is, then--"
"I'll follow it," Johnny agreed.
"Set the boat to go five miles an hour. I'll time you." MacGregor pulledout his large, old-fashioned watch. "Now we'll see."
For a full ten minutes, in silence, the two of them watched theapparently never-ending line of net floats appear and disappear into thefog.
"Near two miles of it," MacGregor growled. "And yet no end. No wondersome of our fine boys come in with empty boats. These Orientals, theyjust find a place outside where the salmon run an' head 'em off. They--
"Slow up, Johnny!" he warned. "There's the end. Shut off the motor."
The motor ceased to purr. Silence hung over the fog. A seal bobbed up hishead, then ducked. A large salmon, caught in the net close to thesurface, set up a feeble splatter.
"Ease about," said MacGregor. "I'll pick up that net with this pike pole.
"Now," he breathed, leaning far out over the rail, "now I got her. Now--"
He had succeeded in getting his hands on the marker when catastrophe camethundering up at them from the deep. A tremendous explosion sent thewater rocketing toward the sky. The prow of the _Stormy Petrel_ roseuntil it seemed she would go completely over.
Frantically Johnny gripped the wheel to save himself from being plungedinto the icy water. But where was MacGregor?
For ten tense seconds the boat stood with prow in air. Then with a slow,sickening swash, she came down.
"MacGregor!" Johnny cried. "What happened? Where are you?"
"Here--here I am!" MacGregor's voice rose from the sea.
"Johnny!" his voice was hoarse with emotion. "Shove off that life boat.Get her off just any way. There's a terrible hole in the _Stormy's_ side.She'll sink in another minute. For God's sake, be quick!"
Johnny was quick and strong. If ever his strength stood him in good steadit was now.
The life boat hung over the afterdeck. The knots of ropes that held it inplace were wet and stiff with fog.
"No time," he muttered. With his knife he slashed away the ropes. Theboat fell on deck with a thud. It was a heavy steel boat. To hisconsternation, he saw that it had fallen squarely between the heavyrails. The prow must be lifted. Creeping under it, he put all thestrength of his back against it. It rose.
"Now!" he breathed. "Now! And now!"
The boat was on the rail. He could fairly feel the _Stormy's_ decksinking beneath him. She was doomed, there was no doubt of that. Thoseheavy motors would take her down fast.
Once again he heaved. The life boat was now a quarter over the rail, nowa third, now half.
Leaping from beneath it, he executed a double movement, a shove and aleap. He was in the life boat. The life boat plunged, all but sank,swayed from side to side, then righted herself.
There was a low, sickening rush of water. Johnny looked. The _Stormy_ wasgone. In her place were swirling water and in the swirl an odd collectionof articles; a coat, a cap, a pike pole, and MacGregor's checkerboard.
"MacGregor!" Johnny called hoarsely. "MacGregor! Where are you?"
"Here! Over here!" was the cheering response. "I had to get away. Shewould have sucked me down."
Seizing an oar, Johnny began sculling the boat. In a moment he wasalongside his companion. A brief struggle and MacGregor, watersoaked andshivering, tumbled into the boat.
"John--Johnny," his teeth were chattering. "There--there shou-should bed-d-dry clothes in the stern."
Dragging a half barrel from the prow, Johnny pulled out shirts,underclothing, trousers, socks and shoes.
"Seems you were looking for this," he chuckled as he watched the pluckyold man disrobe himself.
"Johnny," said MacGregor. "In the Coast Guard service you are alwayslooking for it an' all too often you're not disappointed."
When, a few minutes later, after a brisk rub-down, MacGregor hadstruggled into dry clothes and had succeeded in lighting his pipe, hesaid, "Well, me boy, we thought we had 'em an' now they've got us. We'remiles from anywhere in a fog. And that's bad! Mighty bad."
"Do you suppose Blackie heard it?"
"What? The explosion? 'Tain't likely. We're all of four miles from there.Don't forget, we followed that net two miles. An' that explosion wasmuffled by the water.
"An' if he heard," he added after a brief pause, "what could he do? He'sfour miles away. No compass. An' no boat except maybe a fishing skiff.No, Johnny," his voice sounded out solemn on the silent sea. "For once inour lives we are strictly on our own, you and me.
"Well, me lad," he murmured a moment later. "They got us that time.Attached some sort of bomb to their net, that's what they did. Safeenough in a way, too, for how you goin' to prove it was their net? Yes,they got us. But you wait, me lad, we'll be gettin' them yet."