CHAPTER XXIII
ACROSS THE SEA
With one accord the hands of the captives sought their pockets.Probably the first thought of each one was a knife--a pocket knife. Butblank looks succeeded their first hopeful ones, for the hands came outempty.
"Not a thing!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "Not a blessed thing! They haveeven taken my keys and--my fountain pen!"
"I guess they searched us all while they were struggling with us, tyingus up," suggested Ned. "I had a knife with a big, strong blade, butit's gone."
"So is mine," echoed Tom.
"And I haven't even a screwdriver, or a pocket-wrench," declared theengineer, "though I had both."
"They evidently knew what they were doing," said Lieutenant Marbury. "Idon't usually carry a revolver, but of late I have had a smallautomatic in my pocket. That's gone, too."
"And so are all my things," went on his naval friend. "That Frenchman,La Foy, was taking no chances."
"Well, if we haven't any weapons, or means of getting out of here, wemust make them," said Tom, as hopefully as he could under thecircumstances. "I don't know all the things that were put in thisstoreroom, and perhaps there may be something we can use."
"Shall we make the try now?" asked Ned. "I'm getting thirsty, at least.Lucky we had supper before they came out at us."
"Well, there isn't any water in here, or anything to eat, of so much Iam sure," went on Tom "So we will have to depend on our captors forthat."
"At least we can shout and ask for water," said Lieutenant Marbury."They have no excuse for being needlessly cruel."
They all agreed that this might not be a bad plan, and were preparingto raise a united shout, when there came a knock on the door of theirprison.
"Are you willing to listen to reason?" asked a voice they recognized asthat of La Foy.
"What do you mean by reason?" asked Tom bitterly. "You have no right toimpose any conditions on us."
"I have the right of might, and I intend exercising it," was the sharprejoinder. "If you will listen to reason--"
"Which kind--yours or ours?" asked Tom pointedly.
"Mine, in this case," snapped back the Frenchman. "What I was going tosay was that I do not intend to starve you, or cause you discomfort bythirst. I am going to open the door and put in food and water. But Iwarn you that any attempt to escape will be met with severe measures.
"We are in sufficient force to cope with you. I think you have seenthat." He spoke calmly and in perfect English, though with a markedaccent. "My men are armed, and will stand here ready to meet violencewith violence," he went on. "Is that understood?"
For a moment none of the captives replied.
"I think it will be better to give in to him at least for a while,"said Captain Warner in a low voice to Tom. "We need water, and willsoon need food. We can think and plan better if we are well nourished."
"Then you think I should promise not to raise a row?"
"For the time being--yes."
"Well, I am waiting!" came in sharp tones from the other side of theportal.
"Our answer is--yes," spoke Tom. "We will not try to get out--justyet," he added significantly.
A key was heard grating in the lock, and, a moment later, the door slidback. Through the opening could be seen La Foy and some of his menstanding armed. Others had packages of food and jugs of water. Aplentiful supply of the latter was carried aboard the Mars.
"Keep back from the door!" was the stern command of La Foy. "The foodand drink will be passed in only if you keep away from the entrance.Remember my men are armed!"
The warning was hardly needed, for the weapons could plainly be seen.Tom had half a notion that perhaps a concerted rush would carry the dayfor him and his friends, but he was forced to abandon that idea.
While the guards looked on, others of the "pirate crew," as Ned dubbedthem, passed in food and water. Then the door was locked again.
They all felt better after drinking the water, which was made cool byevaporation, for the airship was quite high above the earth when Tom'senemies captured it, and the young inventor felt sure it had notdescended any.
No one felt much like eating, however, so the food was put away for atime. And then, somewhat refreshed, they began looking about for somemeans of getting out of their prison.
"Of course we might batter down the door, in time, by using some ofthese boxes as rams," said Tom. "But the trouble is, that would make anoise, and they could stand outside and drive us back with guns andpistols, of which they seem to have plenty."
"Yes, and they could turn some of your own quick-firers on us," addedCaptain Warner. "No, we must work quietly, I think, and take themunawares, as they took us. That is our only plan."
"We will be better able to see what we have here by daylight," Tomsaid. "Suppose we wait until morning?"
That plan was deemed best, and preparations made for spending the nightin their prison.
It was a most uncomfortable night for all of them. The floor was theironly bed, and their only covering some empty bags that had containedsupplies. But even under these circumstances they managed to doze offfitfully.
Once they were all awakened by a violent plunging of the airship. Thecraft seemed to be trying to stand on her head, and then she rockedviolently from side to side, nearly turning turtle. "What is it?"gasped Ned, who was lying next to Tom.
"They must be trying some violent stunts," replied the young inventor,"or else we have run into a storm."
"I think the latter is the case," observed Lieutenant Marbury.
And, as the motion of the craft kept up, though less violently, thiswas accepted as the explanation. Through the night the Mars flew, butwhither the captives knew not.
The first gray streaks of dawn finally shone through the only window oftheir prison. Sore, lame and stiff, wearied in body and disturbed inmind, the captives awoke. Tom's first move was toward the window. Itwas high up, but, by standing on a box, he could look through it. Heuttered an exclamation.
"What is it?" asked Ned, swaying to and fro from the violent motion ofthe aerial warship.
"We are away out over the sea," spoke Tom, "and in the midst of a badstorm."
Tom Swift and His Aerial Warship; Or, The Naval Terror of the Seas Page 23