Navy Boys Behind the Big Guns Part 12

Torry increased the speed the very next moment. There were not many constables around Seacove, and the first five miles of the road to Elmvale was perfectly straight. The amber lamps of the car gave a good light ahead, and Torry was really a safe driver.

But he seemed reckless on this evening. Inspired by the same feeling that impressed Whistler Morgan, he felt that they could not get to Elmvale too quickly.

During the journey the older boys vouchsafed no explanation to the younger pair save that they had made an engagement with Mr. Santley at the munition factory over the telephone. In fact, they had no idea what they would do, or what they would say to Mr. Santley.

The car roared on, the dogs barked behind them, and finally they came to the slope leading down into Elmvale. Lights were already twinkling in the valley. But the mills were closed, and even the munition factory seemed deserted.

This time they did not take the Upper Road, but drove through the center of the little hamlet. The stores were open and there were lights in most of the cottages of the workmen. There were lively parties in all the long, barrack-like boarding houses. The town was wide awake.

Torry brought the car to an abrupt stop before the brick office building of the munition works. The place had been a mill before the war. The long, many-windowed buildings behind the offices covered a good deal of ground. There was a high stockade fence about the whole plant. An armed guard stood at the main door when Whistler ran up the steps. The other boys chose to wait in the car for him.

"I want to see Mr. Santley," Whistler said to the guard in khaki.

"The manager? I don't know whether he is here at this hour or not."

"I see lights in the offices yonder. And I have made an appointment with him."

At that moment the bolts of the big door were shoved back and a man looked out. Whistler Morgan did not know the manager of the munition works by sight; but the guard at once said:

"Here's a boy to see you, Mr. Santley."

"What is your name, young man?" asked the manager, eying the boy with interest.

Whistler told him.

"Dr. Morgan's son, from Seacove? Come in," and Whistler was ushered inside and the heavy door was again barricaded.

"We have to keep locked up here like a fortress at night," said Mr.

Santley. "Come in and let me hear what you have to say, young man. What do you know about Mr. Blake?"

"Did you know he had been out at sea on an oil tender to-day?" blurted out Whistler. "She was chased by a submarine chaser, but the tender escaped in the fog. Afterward she came into Rivermouth Harbor without her cargo."

"What's this? What's this?" demanded Mr. Santley. "Why, that has nothing to do with the factory."

They were in his private office. He stood with his hand upon Whistler's shoulder and asked the boy sternly:

"What have you to tell me about Mr. Blake, anyway? I don't want to hear a lot of inconsequential gossip. I am worried about the man."

"Yes, sir. So am I," declared Whistler very earnestly. "I've been worried about him ever since the other day when we fellows were over here trying to get some of the boys to enlist in the Navy."

"Ah, were you one of that crowd?" asked Mr. Santley.

"Yes, sir; and coming over here we saw that man Blake----"

He went on to tell the manager of the munition factory about how his suspicions were aroused and about the water wheel he had found at the foot of the dam, ending with a detailed account of the affair of the oil tender.

Mr. Santley's face expressed nothing but lively curiosity.

"And to-day you saw him on a boat that you think is a feeder for German submarines?" muttered the manager. "It is whispered that they are off this coast."

"We overheard this Blake and a man who I'm sure is captain of that oil boat talking in a restaurant to-night. They mentioned two-fifty which I believe is the number of the submarine off this coast. They spoke as though more were expected. The Germans are going to make a big drive on our shipping over here."

"You may be right, boy," agreed Mr. Santley. "That man Blake--well, he doesn't seem to be in Elmvale now."

"He came back on this evening's train," declared Whistler.

"Are you sure? I have been waiting for him to show up here," cried Mr.

Santley. "To tell the truth, young man, I have discovered some things here that I want him to explain. For one thing, I have picked up a letter in his locker which is addressed to him, it is evident, but not by the name of Blake. It is written in German and I want it explained."

"Oh, Mr. Santley!" cried Whistler, "I believe there is something wrong.

He told that Captain Braun, of the _Sarah Coville_, that his work was finished here. He was only returning for a particular thing to Elmvale."

"But he hasn't come here!" exclaimed Mr. Santley. "And he has some private property in the office."

"Maybe he isn't coming here," breathed the boy. "Maybe he is only going up to the dam!"

"To the dam?"

"That water-wheel business! It perplexes me," explained Whistler Morgan.

"We'll go up there and take a look!" exclaimed Mr. Santley, grabbing his hat and banging down the roll top of his desk and locking it. "You've got me all stirred up now, boy."

They hurried out of the office. Mr. Santley spoke in a low voice to the armed guard on the front steps.

"If Blake comes here, hold him till I return," he said. "Do you understand? _Hold him_--even if you have to knock him down and sit on him."

"All right, sir," said the man, nodding grimly.

Mr. Santley started down the steps after the excited Whistler, who was already getting into the automobile, the engine of which was still running. At that instant the night was as peaceful as could be. The valley below the high dam lay quietly under the light of the stars, and a pale moon was just rising above the treetops.

Then, with a shock which electrified the atmosphere and seemed to make heaven and earth tremble, a burst of flame rose at the foot of the dam, not more than half a mile away!

The glare of it blinded them; the reverberating explosion that followed almost immediately well nigh stunned them. It was Ikey, standing in the tonneau of the car, and pointing a trembling arm toward the dimly distinguished wall of masonry, whose voice was first heard:

"Look! Look! The dam's broke!"

A balloon-shaped cloud of smoke had risen above the wall of masonry.

Beneath it the dam crumbled, dissolved, and poured away into the bed of the river like the changing picture in a kaleidoscope.

CHAPTER X

AHEAD OF THE FLOOD

Each one in the little group at the main entrance to the munition factory had cried out--no doubt of that! Indeed, Torry said afterward that he forgot to shut his mouth until his jaws were positively stiff.