Part 11 (1/2)

”Did you observe, sir? This thing glowed, while in the water,” declared the ensign, holding up a bottle of about a pint capacity, tightly closed with a rubber stopper. ”Yet when I got it in out of the water it stopped glowing, and looked as dull and dark as it does now. I believe it's coated with a transparent substance that glows only when the thing is in the water. Have I your permission, sir, to drop it in a fire bucket and see?”

”Go ahead,” Dave a.s.sented.

Phelps walked to a near-by fire bucket and thrust the bottle in the water. At first nothing happened. After a few seconds, however, the bottle began to glow dimly, then gradually increased in brightness until it became clear and mellow.

”That's enough for that,” Darrin nodded. ”Now bring it into the chart-room, Mr. Phelps, and we'll look it over.”

Their entrance awoke Dalzell, who stretched, then sprang up.

Dave hastily explained to his chum what had happened, at the same time going to the desk and turning on a stronger electric light.

Holding the bottle up against the light, Dave was able to make out what looked like a folded piece of paper in it, nothing else.

”At all events,” smiled Dave, as he seated himself before the desk and glanced through the bottle gla.s.s, ”I do not see any reason to believe that I shall set off any explosive by drawing out the rubber stopper.”

Nothing disastrous happened as the stopper was withdrawn. Holding the bottle up to the light once more, peering through the neck, Darrin saw that it contained only the folded paper. Careful work with a penholder consumed five minutes of time before the paper was pried out, whole.

Dave spread it on the desk before him,

”Phelps, you read German better than I do, I believe.”

”I can make a stagger at it, sir.”

”Look this through and translate for me,” Darrin requested.

Slowly, and with a good deal of care, Phelps translated in these words:

”U. S. Destroyer 'Logan.' 8.15 P. M. (Date) Longitude --; lat.i.tude --.

Course, west by southwest. Carries three times usual amount of ammunition. Speed, eight knots.”

The actual date was given; longitude and lat.i.tude were correct enough.

When Phelps had finished reading Dave Darrin leaned back in his chair, pain expressed in his face and eyes.

”A traitor on board! An American on this craft who has sold himself to the Huns! In the name of mercy how can such a thing be?”

CHAPTER VII

DARRIN HAS A SPY SCARE

”Tell the orderly to pa.s.s the word to the marine corporal to bring Jordan here,” Dave ordered, after a dazed instant.

That order was quickly obeyed. Seaman Jordan, shuffling his feet, his eyes roving s.h.i.+ftily, nevertheless maintained a half-defiant, half-injured air.

”Jordan,” demanded Dave, without a moment's waiting, as the man was placed before him, ”why did you drop this bottle overboard?”

”I didn't, sir.”