The Perils of Pauline Part 50

The Ensign came to himself instantly. "Yes, of course. I put back only for an important message," he said. "My man got off, did he?"

"I think so."

"All right. Go ahead."

Catin, with that rare fortune which sometimes favors the wicked, had chosen precisely the right moment for his ruse. The crew of the submarine were all on deck save those in the engine room, and his quick pa.s.sage to the vitals of the vessel was unseen.

Once in the pump room, he hastily drew from under his coat the bomb placed in his hands at the conference of diplomats, wound its clock-work spring and laid it beside the pumps.

There was a strange look on the man's face as he did this--a look at once proud and pitiful. Catin had not sense of treachery or shame.

The deed in itself did not lack the dignity of courage, for, with the others, he was planned his own death. And while the others were to die suddenly, ignorant of their peril, Catin was to die in deliberate knowledge of it.

On deck Pauline was eagerly questioning an under officer about the torpedoes, when Summers came up.

"You'll have to come down and see for yourself," he said, overhearing her.

"First I'll show you the pump room--the most important part of us,"

he was saying as Catin, in the boat's bottom, first caught the sound of nearing voices.

Catin leaped up the steps from the pump room. He was in the nick of time. A large locker in the main compartment gave him refuge just as Pauline and Summers reached the room.

"The pumps are our life-savers," said Summers, as he directed Pauline down the second ladder. "If they go wrong when we're under water we can't come up."

"And what do you do then?" asked Pauline innocently.

"Oh, just-stay down."

Catin waited breathless in his hiding place until they returned. "By heaven, they didn't find it!" he breathed eagerly.

Pauline and Ensign Summers stood at the rail watching the foamy rush of a fast motor boat, when a hail sounded across the water.

A man was standing up in the motor boat and calling through a megaphone.

Summers raised his gla.s.ses. "Do you know who that is?" he asked laughingly.

"Of course not. What does he want?"

"It's Harry, and I suspect he wants to take you away from us."

Pauline uttered an exclamation of annoyance.

"Isn't he silly!" she cried, "One would think I was, a baby, the way he watches me."

Soon the voice of Harry could be plainly distinguished.

"Clear your ship; I am going to sink you," he called.

"Cargo too precious this trip; don't do it," answered Summers.

"Let me take the megaphone," demanded Pauline.

"What do you mean by following us?" she cried.

"I don't trust that sardine can, and I want a regular boat on hand when you are wrecked."

"I am very angry with you. It looks as if--"

Her words were drowned in Summers' laughter.

"Never mind. I know a way we can escape from him," he said.

"How?"

"Why, sink the boat."

"That will be splendid."

He stepped aside and gave a terse order. Delightedly, Pauline watched the brief, machine-like movements of the crew tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the deck.

Summers escorted her back to the conning tower. They descended.

Within a few moments the wonderful craft was buried under the waves.

"There he is--looking for us," laughed Summers, as he made room for Pauline at the periscope.

Amazed, fascinated, she gazed from what seemed the bottom of the sea out upon the rolling surface of the waves. Harry's motorboat was near and he was standing in the bow, scanning the water with binoculars.

"And he can't see us?" asked Pauline.

"Oh, yes, he'll pick up out periscope after a while. Shall we fire the torpedo at him?"

"Yes, please," said Pauline.

Summers' laugh was cut short. As if someone had taken his jest in earnest and really fired a projectile, the crash of an explosion came from the bottom of the boat.

"Stay here--" ordered Summers with a set face as he joined the rush of seamen into the pump room.

But Pauline followed.

An officer, with blanched face but steady voice, came up to Summers.

"What was it, Grimes?"

"It seems to have been a bomb, sir. There was no powder down there."

The face of the Ensign darkened with suspicion and alarm.

"A bomb? So they were going after us--the enemy! We'd better get right up and back to port, Grimes."

"I have to report, sir--the pumps are disabled."