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"Of course she's not running away," Whistler returned. "Just the same this cutter is sprinting like all get out," put in Torry. "Be a good fellow, Whistler. Ask Mr. MacMasters what it means." His chum did not feel that he could do this. There is, after all, a gulf between the quarterdeck and the forecastle.
Every man of the crew of the wrecked auxiliary steamer desired to get aboard the superdreadnaught if there was to be any fresh excitement. Whistler's chums urged him to waylay Ensign MacMasters for information. "G'wan, Whistler!" begged Frenchy. "You and him's just like brothers. Ask him if the old Kennebunk is running away from us, or if it's all bunk?" and he grinned at his pun.
"Whip up this old tub, Whistler. Let's start the engine." "Hold your horses," advised Morgan. "He knows we are aboard. We'll get there all right, give us time." The chaser was circling around, and finally headed toward them. The excited boys in the catboat saw Mr. MacMasters examining them through a glass. The S. P. 888 came to a stop near the usual mooring of the Sue Bridger.
Ensign MacMasters made no comment for a moment; then he got the full significance of Whistler's meaning and he briskly demanded: "Sure her casks were filled, Morgan, and not empty?" "She had a full cargo of something, sir," said Whistler, nodding. "And headed southeast?" "Yes, sir." Mr. MacMasters wheeled to speak to his navigating officer. In thirty seconds the swift craft started. "Hold on, Mr.
In time they raised the Capes of Virginia, and a few hours later steamed into the dock at Fortress Monroe. Grant, the injured fireman from the Kennebunk, was taken ashore and sent to the marine hospital. Ensign MacMasters had his full orders from the commander of the battleship; but he had a wireless message relayed to the Kennebunk stating his arrival.
After leaving the crew of the Hattie May to be picked up by the destroyer, the tender continued to run parallel with the coast. Land was seldom wholly out of sight, for Mr. MacMasters had orders as to his course, expecting to meet the superdreadnaught on that vessel's return from the south.
"Why, at the present time, freight rates are so high and wages so much advanced, that shipowners can find skippers and crews willing to take regular sieves to sea!" "She looks peculiar," Mr. MacMasters said. "If it wasn't for Grant, here, being in such pain, poor fellow, I'd throw a shell at her and hold her up.
It was more like a barracks than a home; and from the ancient and fishy smell about the place, the party from the battleship was sure that it had not long since housed fishermen and their nets. Mr. MacMasters and most of the others turned in at once for a nap; but Whistler Morgan was much too anxious to sleep.
Morgan told him what he knew of the bewhiskered man called Blake; and also of the little water wheel that was whirling under the waterfall at the Elmvale Dam, although really, it did not seem to him as though that little invention could have a serious connection with any alien-enemy activities. "I will report the whole thing," Mr. MacMasters said.
There was a quantity of small shipping in the place, and Ensign MacMasters did not want to take any chances of collision. So he hailed a fishing smack and put the four friends from Seacove aboard of her. "Good-bye, boys!" he said, as they went over the side into the smack. "We shall meet in a few days. You will get your notice by telegraph when to join the Kennebunk, and where.
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