Li Shoon's Nine Lives/Chapter 14

HE movements of the prowling party changed in direction. Twenty minutes later some thirty rebel soldiers, led by a young lieutenant, came out on the beach from a point to the northward. They marched down, halting on about the spot where the two Americans had captured the rebel outpost. With them was a figure more portly than is common in Mexico.

"You said there was an outpost here," hinted the voice of Li Shoon.

"They were posted here before dark," replied the lieutenant. "But they are new men, not veteran soldiers. It is plain that the rascals, finding it nearing daylight, decided that their duty was done. They have returned to Mattanegua, or else they have stolen into the woods to sleep."

The discarded half dozen rifles and bandoliers would have given a hint to the searchers, but fortunately Fleming, some minutes before, had crawled out and brought these things to the spot occupied by Carrick and himself. The two friends now listened and watched breathlessly, ready for any clash that might come.

"We are wasting time," said the lieutenant indolently. "Your Americano fugitives are making fast time through the forest, while we linger here. March!"

Away drilled the column, Li Shoon, despite his size, keeping tirelessly with them.

"There will be no more searchers here now," proclaimed Carrick, with a sigh of relief. "We must leave Li to attend to his affairs and give all our attention to our own. You might stay here, though, with the arsenal."

Exploring an inside pocket, Carrick, on the beach, brought forth a small electric flash light. Forming a shielding cone with his hands, the Hound flashed the light seaward just seven times. He waited a few seconds, then flashed the light seven more times.

After that he seated himself on the sands. Ten minutes went by ere he could discern any answer to his signals. Then something merely dark and vague appeared on the water beyond. That something came nearer and nearer, resolving itself into a swift launch, propelled by a noiseless petroleum engine. It glided in like a thing of mystery to where Carrick stood on the beach waving his arms. Some forty feet from the shore it lay to on account of shallow water.

"Who's in charge?" hailed Carrick, in a hoarse whisper.

"Kerrigan, sir. Are you ready?"

"More than ready!" came the Hound's heartfelt answer.

Over from the launch sprang two barefooted sailors, their trousers rolled up for wading.

"Take these rifles and bandoliers first," whispered Carrick. "They are souvenirs the doctor and I have been collecting to-night."

With Fleming's help the sailors carried the rifles and bandoliers to the launch. Then back they came, lifting the two adventurers and bearing them, dry shod, to seats at the stern of the launch. As the two sailors sprang in, the launch turned and put silently out to sea.

"And now," observed the Hound, producing pipe and pouch, "I propose to enjoy a smoke."

The doctor preferred to roll a cigarette. They lit up with shielded matches, keeping their faces turned westward that the glows might not attract attention from shore.

"Straight out for five miles," directed the Hound. "Then return to ship."

That was done. In a little more than an hour Carrick and Doctor Fleming found themselves ascending the side gangway of the Vulcan, while Captain Mulford stood on deck to receive them. The yacht lay in a little indentation of the coast line some miles south of Mattanegua. She had a single anchor out, at a spot where a curving, projecting, wooded arm of land served to shield her from direct observation from the sea.

"If you've no immediate instructions, sir, will you be good enough to come into my cabin?" requested Captain Mulford. By the time the two friends had seated themselves there the skipper handed Carrick a sheet of paper on which were written a lot of gibberishy words.

"What's this?" smiled Carrick, as he read: "'Quong hing lee sing chui mien sen'"

"That's a Chinese wireless, isn't it?" asked Captain Mulford. "Our operator took it down some time after you went ashore."

"It was intended for the operator on the ""Budsibu [sic]""," laughed the Hound, "and he received it, as I happened to hear. This wireless was sent from San Francisco probably, and I was behind its being sent. These words have a Chinese formation, but they're code, not straight Chinese. This code message informed Li that the Sea King, partially disabled, is coming up the coast, needing help, and the further information that she carries eight million in gold in her strong room. But the gold isn't there. The captain of the Sea King has his own orders, furnished in the navy code, and knows just what he is to do. Li Shoon will attempt to board him this coming morning, and we shall be at hand also."

After looking at his watch, Carrick exchanged a few words with the Vulcan's wireless man, next with a cabin steward on duty. Then he and Fleming went to their own cabin, where they lay down in their berths without removing more than coats and shoes.

At a few minutes after eight the wireless man knocked on the door. Springing up, the Hound threw the door open.

"The Sea King is wirelessing San Diego that her machinery is becoming more and more useless, sir, and to rush a tug to her," the operator reported. "Here is the message as I took it down."

"How far south is the Sea King?" Carrick asked, glancing at the paper.

"Twelve miles to the south'ard, sir, and making not more than four miles an hour."

"Has the Budzibu gone south yet?"

"She's not been sighted, sir, and must be still in Mattanegua Bay."

"There's time to spare, then," said Carrick to his friend, and hastened out to find Captain Mulford and give directions. On shore, in the top of one of the tallest trees on the projecting arm of land that hid the Vulcan, a quartermaster and a sailor kept vigilant watch.

His conference with Captain Mulford finished, Carrick returned to his cabin, selecting changes of clothing from the baggage he had brought on board. Then he hastened to one of the baths, the doctor to another.

Half an hour later, as they were dressing in their cabin, Carrick heard hurried steps on the deck overhead, followed by sounds of hoisting a launch that had been waiting tc bring the quartermaster and sailor back.

"The Budzibu has started south," said the Hound. "You may depend upon that."

Once on deck, however, they learned that Li Shoon's pirate craft had only appeared outside of Mattanegua Bay. The launch had returned to shore with Mr. Olney, third officer, who went to the edge of the land. It was an hour later when he reappeared, signaling for the launch. Olney came on board, reporting:

"The Budzibu is now steaming south at about eight miles an hour."

At a nod from Carrick the launch was once more hoisted on board. A machinist stood by the donkey engine, ready to begin hoisting the anchor as soon as the signal should be given. Just the barest glimpse of the Sumatran yacht was had after a while. Then she passed wholly out of sight. Carrick and Fleming now took up their post at the door of the wireless room. Another age passed ere the operator turned to say:

"Message flying."

His pencil traveled over the paper as he listened. At last he leaned sideways to hand Carrick this message taken from the air:

"The message came very weakly, sir," reported the operator to the flushed, frowning Hound.

"That's because Li Shoon doesn't want the message to travel far enough to attract any attention," Carrick answered.

Again the operator's pencil touched paper. He handed over the sheet, commenting:

"Evidently the reply from the Sea King."

This message read tersely:



"The Sea King's master will soon learn," was Carrick's grim word.

The answer flashed back:

Back from the master of the Sea King came the response:

Running forward, Carrick called to Captain Mulford: "Time to get the anchor up, sir, and be under way at once. Full speed south, and straight to the Budzibu."

In a wonderfully short time the Vulcan was under way, passing out of the little inlet and out upon the broad waters of the Pacific.

"See if there are any more messages, Fleming," called the Hound, but the chemist swiftly returned with a negative answer.

Racing like a deer, the Vulcan was destined to come up within effective distance within twelve minutes. And now an unexpected thing happened, for, at a nod from Carrick, Mr. Olney stepped forward with a letter which he handed Captain Mulford. That skipper read and was astounded.

"It's all right, Mr. Olney," he exclaimed, glancing up from the letter. "This order informs me that you're Ensign Olney, United States Navy, and that the five seamen you brought aboard are United States navy seamen. Further, that when you decide to take command of this craft temporarily, I am to take your orders until the crisis is over. Go ahead, sir. I shall be up on the bridge, prepared to cary [sic] out any order I may receive from you."

Under Olney's crisp orders the forward-hatch was thrown open, and tackle swung onto a 4.7 inch naval gun that all on, board knew was there, for the track had been laid on the deck days before. With precision the gun was swung upward and laid on the track. Olney's five naval seamen, aided by the yacht's sailors, pushed the gun to position over the port bow. All was made secure, the breech opened, and a shell rammed home. With closed breech once more, Olney stood by with field glass, while a naval gunner took observations through the sights.

"Three points to starboard, sir!" Olney shouted to the bridge. Afterward he added: "And now, sir, stand in more toward shore."

Every minute brought the Vulcan closer to the spot where the Budzibu lay to, while, half a mile to the southwest of her, the Sea King lay, motionless, on the waters. Two-thirds of the way from the Sumatran yacht to the liner, two launches rode the water. They contained a total of some fifty men, lascars and Chinese, as it afterward proved. Carrick and Fleming could realize the way the Sea King's decks would run blood to the scuppers if once this piratical crew got foothold on board.

So far the Vulcan had approached without discovery, so intent were all of Li Shoon's men on the eight-million-dollar prey that they believe the Sea King to be.

But now a man in one of the launches caught sight of the racing rescuing Vulcan, and stood up in the launch, signaling violently to the Budzibu.