The Submarine Hunters, Percy F. Westerman [e reader comics txt] 📗

their backs to the window the change of colour passed unnoticed.

"Oh, that submarine business!" remarked Lieutenant Bourne modestly. "Just an ordinary occurrence, don't you know, except for one thing. I was officer of the watch at the time. We spotted a strafed unterseeboot flying a white flag. Have to be jolly careful, you see. Either give the thing a wide berth, and wireless the destroyers to take possession of the prize, or else cut the brute in two. Anyhow, something funny did happen. There were two fellows in mufti standing close to the skipper on the submarine's deck. Goodness only knows why they did it, but I saw one of them——"

"Cut the halliards and let the white flag down," interposed Vernon.

There was dead silence in the room. Only intense excitement was responsible for young Haye's lapse of manners. The words had slipped from him almost unconsciously. Ross barked his shin as a gentle reminder.

"By Jove! How did you know that?" demanded Bourne. "Shouldn't have thought that the yarn had had time to travel very far. Hope I haven't been boring you?"

Vernon took his courage in his hands.

"It was Ross who cut the halliards," he announced. "We were both on board, and jumped overboard just in time, and got hold of a lifebuoy dropped from the Tremendous as she passed."

"By Jove!" ejaculated the Lieutenant. "I am surprised. I wondered whether you were picked up. It was a jolly plucky action. But how did you get on board the unterseeboot?"

"Aye, out with it!" added the Admiral. "I heard that you were missing, of course, and also of your return. Truth to tell, I thought when I got your letter that the pair of you had been acting the goat, and had run away to sea and had thought better of it."

"We didn't run, sir, we were carried," explained Ross. "And Dr. Ramblethorne was responsible for it."

Admiral Sir Peter Garboard was not satisfied until he had heard the complete story of his young friends' adventures. When they had finished he turned to his nephew.

"Young Haye and his chum came to see me on a private matter," he remarked, "but I don't think they will object to your hearing what we have to say."

"Are you quite sure you won't?" asked Bourne, addressing the lads.

"Both Trefusis and Haye are supposed to be going in for Sandhurst," continued Sir Peter. "Although, candidly speaking, I don't see why a naval man should want to put his son in the Army."

"In my case it is only following a family precedent," said Ross. "For generations back the eldest son has alternately been in the Navy and Army."

"And in my case it is the force of circumstances," added Vernon. "When I was of the age to be sent to Osborne I was a puny little chap. The doctor wouldn't pass me."

"You've altered a bit since then, I can see," remarked Bourne. "You look as strong as a young horse now."

"Yes, I've grown out of my early ailments, I think," said Vernon.

"Pity the doctor hadn't passed you," said Sir Peter bluntly. "Ten or eleven is too young an age for any medical man to express a final opinion upon. I remember a fellow in the Service who was nearly blind on one eye and almost as deaf as a post. He got through the medical—influence, I expect. Anyway the Navy was none the worse for it. You'll remember him by name, Cecil: he was my secretary on the China Station. Funny thing about him was that he couldn't see to read red figures unless he looked through a green glass. Do you know that when I received your letter I imagined that your temporary disappearance had something to do with your running away to sea?" reiterated the Admiral. "The idea, I believe, comes to most boys almost as a matter of course; something like measles, in fact."

"Well, now we've had a taste of submarine work, we feel that it is high time we had a hand at helping to collar the German unterseebooten," explained Ross.

"I think it could be arranged," remarked the Admiral. "You haven't had actual experience, of course——"

"Eh!" exclaimed Bourne. "By Jove, Uncle, I should say they had!"

"From a strictly professional standpoint, I ought to have said, only you didn't give me time," added Sir Peter. "I'll write off to the Admiralty to-night and see if I can get you both into the R.N.R. You are too young to receive commissions as Sub-lieutenants, but no doubt you can be taken on as midshipmen. Stringent regulations go by the board in war-time. Isn't that so, Cecil?"

"They would probably be appointed to an armed liner for patrol duty," observed Bourne. "There are, I believe, no midshipmen on the trawlers and motor-boats in submarine-hunting."

"We must take what we can get," said Vernon, "but we would rather——"

"Yes, yes," interrupted the Admiral. "I know. You leave that to me."

Accordingly Ross and Vernon "left it to" the genial Sir Peter, with the result that within a week they were specially appointed as temporary midshipmen to the motor-patrol ship Capella.

CHAPTER XVI H.M.S. "Capella"

With the least possible delay the two chums joined the Capella at Southampton. She was one of an entirely new class of vessel, built for the express purpose of ridding the high seas of the presence of the modern pirates. Looking at her as she lay in the Empress Dock, there was little about her to attract the eye. A raised fo'c'sle and poop, and a low superstructure abaft the funnel, two stumpy masts and grey-coloured "wall" sides, gave her the appearance of a trawler. It was only when one had an opportunity of seeing her in dry dock, where her graceful under-body, with its fine "entry" and clean run aft, was visible, that any idea of her speed could be arrived at. Further details would be undesirable. Sufficient to add, to quote a Yankee journalist who had been given an opportunity of paying a visit to the Grand Fleet and inspecting the component units of the greatest armada that the world has yet seen, the class to which she belonged were "some boats". The exigencies of the hitherto unprecedented method of carrying out the naval side of the Great War had demanded the creation of large flotillas of small motor-driven hornets. In the initial stages the want was temporarily supplied through the patriotism of owners of private motor-boats. These craft, good in their way, were handicapped by a lack of uniformity. Nevertheless they served as an excellent training-school until the Admiralty with remarkable celerity produced the novel type of craft to which the Capella belonged.

The Capella carried a large crew in proportion to her size—four officers and twenty-four men. Her skipper was Stanley Syllenger, who held the rank of Lieutenant-Commander, R.N.R. He was a big, bluff man of about thirty-five, a strict disciplinarian, and a stickler for duty. He could be very outspoken when he wanted, which was fairly frequently, but withal he was of a thoroughly good-natured disposition.

There were two Sub-lieutenants, R.N.R. The senior was John Barry, a very mild type of young officer. He usually spoke in a very soft voice, except when occasion warranted, when he could bellow in a way that would take a stranger entirely by surprise. It seemed incredible that such a bull voice could belong to such a dapper little man as John Barry.

The other Sub was Noel Fox—a tall, deep-chested fellow of twenty, boisterous, and full of spirits. In five crowded years he had gained a good knowledge of three oceans, and a nodding acquaintance with the remaining two. Beginning his career on board a five-masted sailing ship, he had served in tramps, "intermediates", and mail steamers until the outbreak of the war, when he found himself appointed to an armed liner that abruptly terminated her existence by trying conclusions with a German mine.

Captain Syllenger and Sub-lieutenant Barry were pacing the diminutive quarter-deck of the Capella as she lay alongside the quay. The skipper had heard officially that morning of the appointment of two temporary midshipmen to the craft under his command. "Hanged if I can understand it, Barry!" he exclaimed in his outspoken manner. "What's the idea of turning the Capella into a nursery, I should like to know! These youngsters are somebody's pigeons, I suppose. The usual yarn. Influence up topsides does the trick, and we're saddled with two raw lubbers."

"There is no mention of their having had previous sea-service, sir?" remarked Barry. "But perhaps they'll turn out fairly smart."

"They will," added the Lieutenant-Commander grimly; "that is, if I have anything to do with them for any length of time. But, by Jove! here they are, unless I'm much mistaken."

Looking rather self-conscious in their brand-new uniforms, Ross and Vernon doubled down the steeply sloping gangway. As they came aboard, Syllenger noted with professional satisfaction that they both saluted the quarter-deck. The action showed, by one thing at least, they were not the greenhorns he expected to receive.

"You have had no previous experience, I believe?" he asked, after the midshipmen had introduced themselves.

"Very little, beyond knocking about in yachts and boats," replied Ross.

"That's something," decided the skipper. "A fellow who starts his career in a small boat has the makings of a good seaman. It is rare indeed that a man who goes straight to sea in a steamship makes a smart man in a boat. If ever you go on patrol duty you'll find your experience of value. By the by, I suppose you know our particular job?"

"Yes, sir," replied Ross. "Hunting submarines."

"Ever seen one?" asked Syllenger abruptly.

"Several of the D and E classes manoeuvring in Plymouth Sound."

"But a German one?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where?"

"We've both spent nearly a week on board an unterseeboot, sir."

The skipper sternly regarded the two midshipmen.

"Look here," he said. "If you think you've come on board to gammon me, the sooner you get that idea out of your heads the better. There's no room on the Capella for a pair of modern Ananiases."

Ross said nothing. From the outside left breast-pocket of his "undress" coat he produced a white foolscap envelope, bearing in blue the "foul anchor" badge of the Admiralty.

The Lieutenant-Commander took the proffered envelope somewhat suspiciously. He more than half expected that it was a letter of introduction from a high official at Whitehall, on the strength of which the two midshipmen felt inclined to "put on side".

Instead, he found that it contained an autograph letter from the Admiralty, thanking the lads for their bravery and presence of mind, whereby they materially assisted in the preservation of H.M.S. Tremendous and in the destruction of two of the enemy submarines. The document finished by congratulating Ross and Vernon on their escape from U75, and trusted that their career as midshipmen of the R.N.R. would be marked with success.

Syllenger read it through carefully and slowly, deliberately returned it to the envelope, and handed it back to Ross. Then he held out his hand.

"I'm sorry for what I've said," he declared simply. "Forget it, if you can. Come and lunch with me at one bell."

"Thank you, sir," replied Ross in answer to the invitation; then, after a pause, he added: "we didn't want to brag about it, but you made us."

"So I understand," said the skipper. "I've misjudged the pair of you, but the least said about my part of it the better, I fancy."

He hailed a couple of men, instructing them to strike the midshipmen's luggage down the companion-ladder. Ross and Vernon followed, to be introduced to their new quarters.

Owing to the Capella's shallow draught, the cabin space was rather limited. The Captain's quarters were a double cabin, comprising a state-room and sleeping-room, in a deck-house under the bridge. The two Subs had each a small "dog-box", as they termed it, aft on the starboard side. The engineer had a similar cabin on the port side. Adjoining his quarters was another cabin, which had hitherto been used as an overflow receptacle for officers' luggage. This had now been