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Updated: May 3, 2025
Let the wind shriek through the wire stays and the waves roar and burst about and over the submarine chaser as they listed, none of these dangers equaled that of the depth charge which had run amuck. Seven Knott was brought to his senses in a short time, and, after staring about a bit, murmured: "Well, I didn't get it, did I?" "Not your fault, my man," declared Ensign MacMasters cheerfully.
And poor Ikey isn't here!" "Don't worry about that," advised Mr. MacMasters. Then: "I do not think any of the men can translate German. Of course there is probably nothing on this paper of present moment to us. "What we should do first is to find the rest of our crowd and get off this island. The Kennebunk will be coming back up the coast and we'll miss her altogether."
MacMasters made it plain to the boatswain's mate that apprentice seaman Morgan had saved him, as well as the rest of the ship's company, from disaster, and Hansie Hertig grinned broadly. "That Whistler he can do something besides make tunes with his mouth, eh?" he observed.
That had the upperworks of a wireless attached to it, I'm sure. The bolts are still up there. It is no flagpole." "Right again, Morgan," agreed Mr. MacMasters. "And that piece of a letter to Linder," the boy eagerly reminded him. "Don't you think with me, sir, that the old woman is linked up with the German spy system?" "It seems reasonable.
"I am glad to see you looking so chipper." He shook hands with them, in rotation, as they came over the side. But the chums did not forget to salute the officer. They lined up before him in a respectful attitude as Captain Bridger got aboard the catboat and shoved her away from the chaser's side. "I am only acting commander of this little knifeblade," said Ensign MacMasters.
Colodia!" yelled his three mates in wild excitement. "Hurray!" "Well done, Colodia!" echoed a voice behind them, and Ensign MacMasters appeared from the after hatchway, with the commanding officer of the S. P. 888 in his wake. Some of the chaser's crew were now approaching the scene from forward.
I have matches in a bottle in my pocket, and the bottle didn't get broken. Come on and find some dry wood. We'll have a fire. We may have to camp out here till morning." "Oh, Mr. MacMasters!" urged Whistler, who was loosening himself likewise from the rope. "Let us look for the fellows who were on the raft first." "Shout for them," advised the ensign.
Lend me a cigareet, will you, Rosy?" Rosy gravely reached into his blouse and brought forth a little package filled with tobacco pulp. "You're welcome, Jemmy," he said gravely. "Help yourself." "Begorra!" growled the Irishman, "ye might have kept thim dry." "That's a good word!" exclaimed Mr. MacMasters, briskly, struggling to rise. "We all need to get dry.
Ensign MacMasters was too busy to talk further with the four chums; indeed it would not be conducive to discipline for the commissioned officer to give the apprentice seamen too much of his attention. But Mr. MacMasters and the four Seacove boys had been through some warm incidents together; and there is always a particular bond between those who have been shoulder to shoulder in a good fight.
"She's a witch, and the banshees do her bidding," he whispered hoarsely. "Well," said Mr. MacMasters, much puzzled, "is there any place where we can get dry and get some food?" "I'll take you all to my cabin," she said. "That's what I come for." She turned around abruptly and strode back along the path. There seemed nothing for the castaways to do but to follow her.
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