Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 3, 2025
It was her southern, not her Teutonic, training probably that led to this. Whistler could not read German, and he did not know that any member of his party could do so. Nevertheless, he crumpled the bit of paper in his hand and thrust it into his pocket, biding his time until he could show it to Mr. MacMasters. It was ten o'clock before the stew was ready to be dished up.
MacMasters went outside to assure himself that nothing could be done toward searching for the rest of the crew of the auxiliary steamer before daybreak. It was as dark as Erebus without, and the gale still blew strongly off shore. The ensign politely asked the strange old woman what arrangements they should make for the night. "We don't wish to turn you out of your bed, you know, Ma'am," he said.
"Quite so. You boys are naval apprentices, but you were out fishing to-day," returned Mr. MacMasters, grimly. "There is an explanation for everything, my boy." They ran on for another hour, but more slowly. They did not raise a craft of any kind, and Mr. MacMasters lost hope. "I will put you boys ashore at Rivermouth," he said. "You can go home by rail.
Lightly the men and boys lashed to the rope were tossed by the surf rolling over and over, but still clinging to each other and to the hawser. Mr. MacMasters at one end and Whistler Morgan at the other managed to obtain a footing on the sand despite the undertow. They threw themselves upon the beach and clung "tooth and toenail" when the breaker receded.
MacMasters!" cried Torry. "We've got to get ashore somehow for supper, you know." The ensign smiled at him. "I am afraid you will have to remain aboard and help eat some of your own fish for supper. No time just now to put you boys on land." The S. P. 888 was shaking throughout her structure before she came square with the exit of the cove.
"And she knew too much about the steamer being mined in the channel over there," muttered Mr. MacMasters. "It looks as if we were watched by the spies and that she is in cahoots with them," Whistler suggested. "Humph! Maybe. You can't read this letter, I suppose, Morgan?" "No, sir. None of us boys read German. Not even Ikey, although he understands the language quick enough when it is spoken.
Ikey, starting from the order window with a tray load of food, nearly dropped the whole thing on the floor in trying to salute. "Ensign MacMasters!" hissed Torry for the benefit of the boys near, who did not know the officer. And over Ensign MacMasters' shoulder glowed the moon-like face of Seven Knott. "Keep your seats, men," said the ensign quietly, returning the salute in general.
"Ensign MacMasters is to be congratulated that he takes aboard the Kennebunk such an altogether admirable young man. You will hear from this, Master Morgan. You deserve the Medal of Honor and whatever other honor and special emolument it is in the power of the Secretary of the Navy to award." He turned to MacMasters: "And your boatswain's mate deserves mention, too.
"And somebody must have thought a deal of whatever's in the shack, by the size of the padlock on the door." There was a call to breakfast from the cabin just then. Whistler slipped aside and caught Mr. MacMasters' attention. "Something mysterious, Morgan?" asked the ensign, observing Whistler's expression of countenance.
MacMasters told me he read in an American paper that he just got hold of that they have arrested Franz Linder, the spy. He will be tried for blowing up the Elmvale dam. And I guess we had something to do to getting evidence that will convict him.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking