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Updated: May 23, 2025
Tom, in the conning tower had a sight of the San Paulo as it drifted nearer and nearer under the influence of the mighty wind. As one bright flash came he saw Admiral Fanchetti and Lieutenant Drascalo leaning over the rail and gazing at the Advance. A moment later the view faded from sight as the submarine sank below the surface of the troubled sea.
"Have some sort of a court-martial, perhaps," went on the captain, "and confiscate our craft Then they will send us back home, I expect for they would not dare harm us." "But take our submarine!" cried Tom. "The villains " "Silenceo!" shouted Lieutenant Drascalo and he drew his sword.
A firing squad was told off in plain view of them, and the men were put through their evolutions by Lieutenant Drascalo, who had them load, aim and fire blank cartridges at an imaginary line of prisoners. Tom could not repress a shudder as he noted the leveled rifles, and saw the fire and smoke spurt from the muzzles.
In the rush of wind and the dash of rain the prisoners crowded to the accommodation companion ladder, which was still over the side of the big ship. No one seemed to be noticing them, for Admiral Fanchetti was on the bridge, yelling orders for the clearing away of the wreckage. But Lieutenant Drascalo, coming up from below at that moment, caught sight of the fleeing ones.
"Silenceo!" cried Lieutenant Drascalo quickly. "Dogs of Americans, do you wish to insult us?" "Impossible; you wouldn't appreciate a good, genuine United States insult," murmured Tom under his breath. "What I mean," went on the captain, "is that these people may carry the proceedings off with a high hand. You heard the admiral speak of a court-martial." "Would they dare do that?" inquired Mr.
But I take it you are acting privately, for you fly no flag, though you claim to be from the United States." "There's no place for a flag on the submarine," went on Tom. "What good would it be under water?" "Silenceo!" cried Lieutenant Drascalo, the admonition to silence seeming to be the only command of which he was capable.
Captain Weston leaped forward, and with a terrific blow sent Lieutenant Drascalo to the deck. "There!" cried the sailor. "I guess you won't yell 'Silenceo! for a while now." There was a rush of Brazilians toward the group of prisoners. Tom caught one with a blow on the chin, and felled him, while Captain Weston disposed of two more, and Mr. Sharp and Mr. Damon one each.
"And guard them well, Lieutenant Drascalo, for I heard them plotting to escape," and the admiral signaled to a younger officer, who was in charge of the men guarding the prisoners. "Lieutenant Drascalo, eh?" murmured Mr. Damon. "I think they made a mistake naming him. It ought to be Rascalo. He looks like a rascal." "Silenceo!" exclaimed the lieutenant, scowling at the odd character'.
"Now for the Advance!" murmured Captain Weston. "Come back! Come back, dogs of Americans!" cried a voice at the rail over their heads, and looking up, Tom saw Lieutenant Drascalo. He had snatched a carbine from a marine, and was pointing it at the recent prisoners. He fired, the flash of the gun and a dazzling chain of lightning coming together.
To be shot! Why, that's a terrible threat! The villains " "Silenceo!" shouted Lieutenant Drascalo, coming up at that moment. The Escape Events had happened so quickly that day that the gold-hunters could scarcely comprehend them. It seemed only a short time since Mr.
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